CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

El

THE WIVES AS I liked to call them — were all intimidating in their own right — each of them gorgeous in their own unique way with their olive Italian skin and strong tempers. They were equally matched with men who loved them fiercely and would do anything — kill anyone — in their honor.

I didn’t understand that kind of love and a part of me was thankful, because if I did, I’d be insanely jealous sitting there with women who had it all — when all I had were emotional and physical scars.

“El,” Trace interrupted my morose thoughts. Her soft brown eyes locked on me. “What did you think of Chris?”

I think his name is Chris and he has a nice smile. “He’s… nice.”

And he was. There was nothing wrong with him physically and he kept a nice conversation even with Dante staring daggers at him from across the table, more than once I was worried Dante was actually going to leap across the dinner rolls and strangle Chris for breathing.

Dante hid his anger well — so I wasn’t sure what had snapped loose in his brain other than the fact that he didn’t like the idea of me being stuck with someone like Xavier again.

But Chris was my dead husband’s exact opposite.

Xavier had been covered in tattoos from his hands all the way up to his shoulders, he liked to inflict pain, and he got off from being in control.

Chris on the other hand, seemed like the kind of guy who would want sex in one position, with the lights off. It would be over in minutes and I’d probably be able to feign a headache at least every five to seven days meaning he wouldn’t touch me.

And if I pushed it further, I could probably escape without having to even share a bedroom with him.

Another prison where at least I was able to call the shots and didn’t have to worry about a man’s hands on me, controlling me.

Laughter sounded from the kitchen.

Mo rolled her eyes. “Tex is losing again.” She elbowed Val. “Your boy Dante is relentless.”

Val snickered. “I warned Tex last time not to get into a towel war with him, guy’s way too competitive to lose.”

“Take your shirts off,” Bee said under her breath and then looked over at me innocently. “Oh, I’m sorry did I say that out loud?”

“Can’t even blame pregnancy hormones anymore either.” Trace sighed happily. “But I know the feeling.”

More sighing.

The guys were a sight.

I didn’t blame them for wanting their husbands shirtless.

But it was Dante who took his off first.

I sucked in a dizzying breath as the wives gaped.

“That man just gets prettier and prettier,” Mo said in an appreciative voice. “Remember when he first got here? And Chase got pissed because Mil couldn’t remember her name?”

“You exaggerate.” Val laughed.

I turned back to them. “She seriously forgot her name?”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” Mo grinned. “Have you not noticed how dead sexy that man is? I’m pretty sure even Nixon was ready to force him into Frank’s house so he wouldn’t worry about Trace staring.”

Trace rolled her eyes. “I’ve got my man doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate whatever God did right with that one.”

“Amen.” Bee lifted her glass as they all fell into fits of laughter.

More yelling from the kitchen.

Tex charged Dante.

Dante laughed and dodged out of the way as more water went flying around the room, a dish fell crashing against the floor and then Nixon was attacking Phoenix who was already striping off his shirt to make a new towel like weapon.

It was complete chaos.

It was happiness.

Chris stood in the corner unsure of what to do with his hands. I mentally groaned and slapped a hand over my face as Dante moved casually through the kitchen, dripping wet all over the hard wood his blue eyes were so clear, so light, they sucked you in, mesmerized and held on for dear life.

“God that man’s abs,” one of the girls said behind me; I didn’t know who, I was too focused on abs.

On a smile that promised lights on.

And lots of dirty, sexy sex.

He stopped in front of me, droplets of water slid down his chest, across his perfect abs, and fell into the front of his low-slung jeans.

I gulped.

“Ladies, it seems I’m losing, I came over to…” He licked his lips. I could have sworn one of the girls sighed again. “Recruit.”

“In!” Trace jumped to her feet and then all the girls were charging into the kitchen amidst yells and cursing from the guys.

“You don’t play fair,” I said in a breathy voice that had me wanting to disappear into the couch.

Dante reached for my hand, the same hand Chris had kissed. He lifted it to his mouth and pressed an open hot kiss to my wrist, one where I could feel the swirl of his tongue, and the heat of his lips. His half-hooded gaze lifted to my face, he dropped my hand. “Never.”

I almost collapsed at his feet.

One kiss on the wrist and I was owned.

That’s all it took for a man like Dante to shatter your world.

He turned around and made his way back into the kitchen, rejoining the fights, and I watched every laugh, I watched as a room full of mob bosses, assassins, played with dishwater while the oldest of them all drank straight from the bottle.

I watched Family.

And for the first time since I was a little girl.

I hoped.

And I wanted.

Chris caught my gaze and slowly made his way over to me. “Can I see you again?”

Dante’s muscled body moved just past Chris.

He didn’t want me — at least not in the way he would need to want me… and I refused to be stuck in a situation where I fell in love with someone — only to have them tolerate me because it was their job to protect me.

Dante was a wild card.

Chris. He was safe.

So I nodded my head, and when Chris reached for my hand and held it, I let him.

Even when I could see Dante’s murderous expression across the room.

I wasn’t his.

I would never be his.

We both knew it.

We just had to accept it.

I hung my head and said softly. “Let me give you my number.”