Total pages in book: 206
Estimated words: 192184 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 961(@200wpm)___ 769(@250wpm)___ 641(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 192184 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 961(@200wpm)___ 769(@250wpm)___ 641(@300wpm)
I held him tight, loving the feel of his muscular back and enjoying the scenery. It was a beautiful day. We drove about half an hour through the countryside, up and down winding country roads, and finally stopped at a little riverside park. There were picnickers, cyclists, fisherman, and hikers. He parked the bike and took my hand, helping me off, blocking the view of my undies as I was getting off the bike and ensuring my leg didn’t touch the hot exhaust pipe.
He walked me through a very picturesque area to a snack bar beside the river and asked, “What kind of ice cream?” His eyes were sparkling with mischief.
I blushed and looked up at a big whiteboard with a few dozen choices written in alternating orange and blue marker. “Blackjack Berry Thunder,” I said, with conviction.
He chuckled, “Two please,” he said to the older woman manning the stand and whispered into my ear. “That’s got to be the polar opposite of vanilla.” He kissed me behind the earlobe.
“Let’s just say my palate has gotten accustomed to more, err, flavor these days.” I flushed red, but stared at him challengingly.
He looked tickled pink; his eyes sparkling with mischief. “You ain’t tasted nothin’ yet,” he told me while kissing my knuckles.
Then the lady passed us our ice cream and Tommy paid. We strolled away, hand in hand.
“And maybe if I pick non-boring ice cream, maybe my life will stop being so darn exciting,” I added as we got to the riverbank.
Tommy sat on a large, smooth rock big enough to be carved into a bench and with some comfy grooves that’d serve well to sit on. I sat beside him. The ice cream was remarkably good. I stared at the water, deep in thought.
“Penny for your thoughts?” he asked.
I looked at him. He was smiling at me, licking his ice cream, looking gorgeous and carefree.
“How come you seem so calm and carefree?” I asked, then whispered, “We could’ve been killed this morning.”
He shrugged. “My life has been one long game of chess and almost never boring, Tia. When I give myself a chance to breathe, I breathe. That’s what today is about. Us taking a minute to breathe.”
I frowned. It sounded awful. “Your life always been like this? Your dad never sheltered you?”
He looked thoughtful for a second before answering. “Pop’s company has evolved over the years. I guess I evolved with it. I’ve been working for my father since I was fourteen. I’ve seen a lot, even before I started working for him. I’ve learned a lot. My sisters are a little sheltered, they know about Pop’s business, they know much less, but us boys…” He shook his head. “Constant chess game. I just make one move at a time and try to be as strategic as I can be.”
Clearly, it’d affected him. He had huge anger issues. He had to know this had something to do with it. I felt disdain for his father. What would Tommy be like if he’d had a normal upbringing?
“I’m sure your life experiences have taught you a lot, too,” he said.
I nodded.
“You haven’t had the easiest life,” he added.
“Yeah, true, but nothing like yours. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to the constant threat, the violence.”
“It’s not always this amped. And I have plans so that when I take over things’ll transition and eventually most of the risky stuff will be phased out.”
I felt a spark of hope, but it quickly extinguished as I recalled a scene in The Godfather when Michael Corleone’s wife talked about how the more legitimate he’d become, the more dangerous he’d become. I’d seen the movies so many times. What’d been apparent so far was that Tommy Ferrano did, definitely, have demons and that he had major mood swings. He was violent but he was also fiercely protective.
“You threw yourself on top of me this morning,” I said, “to protect me from the gunfire.”
“Of course, I did.” He was staring at the river.
“You came to Mexico yourself. You rescued me and then avenged me, well avenged yourself but I think me, too.”
“Yeah.” He looked across the river at kids skipping stones directly across from us. “I’ll always protect you. I won’t let anyone hurt you ever again.”
He glanced at me quickly and I saw something flash in his eyes. Pain, maybe.
“That you covered me this morning surprised me. You keep surprising me. You’re not very predictable.”
“I’m a bit like this ice cream,” he said, twirling the cone and assessing it. “A lot going on here with the berries and the chunks of white chocolate and dark chocolate. Each bite is different from the last.”
I giggled. “And I’m all vanilla, every lick exactly the same as the last?”
“No way.” He tugged my ponytail playfully. “You’re exactly the flavor I want. You’re delicious.”