Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 56742 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 284(@200wpm)___ 227(@250wpm)___ 189(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56742 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 284(@200wpm)___ 227(@250wpm)___ 189(@300wpm)
“True,” I admit, “but I don’t want her to choose me just for my name. I want her to feel how I do.”
Luca sighs. “So you want her to have known that you were her future husband the second she saw you? That she was going to be the mother to your children? You want all that?”
I grind my teeth, saying nothing. I get his point. It’s an unrealistic expectation. Luca must sense my mood because he doesn’t say anything else. We drive in steely silence.
“Boys,” Mom says, rising from her chair in the living room when we enter.
I was going to see my woman first, but clearly, Mom has other plans. She has a frantic expression on her face, flustered, as though she’s been waiting for us. Dad sits in his wheelchair, hunched slightly forward, eyes slowly pulling shut as though he’s barely keeping himself awake.
On the armchair facing away from us, a man sits, but I can’t tell who it is from here.
“Mom,” I say, taking her hand and kissing her cheek.
“Hey, Mom,” Luca says, doing the same.
“Look, our new business partner is here,” Mom says with forced excitement.
Russel Greene stands, his hair slick with product, his grin wide and implying a lot. He’s alone, surrounded by our men, in the presence of the Marino brothers, yet he looks confident and happy to see us.
“Fellas,” he says, walking forward and offering his hand.
“Russel,” Luca replies in an unreadable tone, shaking his hand.
I shake it too, reluctantly, to keep up appearances, but I hold on to his hand for a moment longer before letting go. He tilts his head at me, a real shit-eating grin on his face.
“Shall we go into the dining room?” he says as if he’s in charge.
“I’m going to get changed first,” I say, giving Mom a look, but she’s too busy fluffing a cushion that is clearly already fluffed enough. She’s just giving herself something to do so she doesn’t have to meet my eye. “And say hello to my girlfriend.”
Mom gasps. “Your girlfriend?”
“You didn’t know?” I say, talking to Mom but keeping my gaze on Russel. “Scarlet Smith is my girlfriend now.”
Russel flinches at Scarlet’s name. He couldn’t make it any more obvious if he tried. “Scarlet… Smith?”
“You know her?” Luca says.
“I… no, no.”
“A bit weird of you to repeat her name ominously like that, then,” Luca comments.
“No, it’s not that,” Russel rushes to say. “I just expected a Marino to be with an Italian, that’s all.”
Hmm. It’s possible. Highly, highly unlikely, but that may be what he meant.
“Excuse me,” I say, turning and walking down the hallway.
I knock on Scarlet’s door.
“Yes?” she calls. Even her speaking voice is more angelic than any other woman’s.
“It’s me,” I tell her.
“Two seconds.” She opens the door and walks into the hallway. She’s wearing a polka-dot dress that shows off her thick, gorgeous legs. Her hair is wavy down to her shoulders, and she’s applied light makeup. It’s like she’s highlighting her natural beauty instead of covering her face. “Mom’s sleeping again. Is it okay if she skips dinner?”
“That’s fine,” I tell my woman. “I’ll have Sebastian bring her something when she’s ready to eat.”
Looping my arms around Scarlet’s waist, I pull her into a hug. She makes one of her cute, captivating noises when I lean down and press my lips against hers. We kiss deeply, passionately. I can feel the hunger in her.
I don’t mean to get carried away, but before I know it, I’ve got her pushed against the wall. I tell myself I’m listening out just in case somebody walks by, but that’s crap. I’m completely lost to my woman. I slide my hand down her body, getting closer to her hip, knowing it would be damn perfect to indulge in her curviness. Squeeze her hips, her ass, her thick, beautiful legs.
She puts her hand on my chest and pushes softly. “Elio,” she whispers breathily.
I glance up and down the hallway, making sure we’re alone, keeping my hands on her hips. There’s something addictive about holding her like this. I’m obsessed with her. Hungry.
“Just so you know, I told Mom you’re my girlfriend,” I say.
She gasps again, her hand tightening on my chest, her fingernails pressing through my shirt. “Really? Why?”
“Because you are,” I growl, pushing my lips against hers again.
We’re lost to the world for a minute or so. She smooths her hands around my neck, clinging tightly, making the steamiest moaning noises. It’s almost enough to make me snap. I should think of her dad, of everything she’s been through. Or maybe what Luca said. Any woman would jump at the chance, but when I’m kissing her, it’s like nothing else exists.
“If I’m your girlfriend,” she says, breaking off the kiss, “I think… uh… you should know something.”
I brush the hair from her face, savoring the moment—the way she tilts her head, the smile that passes across her lips. “Nothing can change how I feel about you,” I say, getting dangerously close to telling her everything, unleashing it all.