Chapter 23

I busy myself around the house cleaning and straightening even though I don’t really need to. Brody was up at the crack of dawn and out the door before I could drag myself from bed, and now I’m left alone in my house to worry and fret and generally feel like shit.

Fortunately, my mother shows up before I can drive myself absolutely insane. We hug and I make her some coffee while she talks about Famiglia gossip.

“Everyone really misses Matty,” she says and sips from her mug as I lean against the counter across from her. “All the guys keep saying it. That young man really made an impression on everyone.”

“He had a lot of potential,” I say and look toward the back door. “That’s why we need to end this stupid war before we lose more good people.” I chew my lip, thinking about Brody out with my brothers making bad decisions and getting himself hurt. The worst part is, he’d never forgive himself for letting his family down if he got killed right now.

“I heard you and your husband are staying here for a little while.” Mom seems very casual about it but I can tell she’s fully invested in this conversation all of a sudden.

I start to pace, feeling too antsy to sit still. Damn this stupid energy. I need to go for a run or something. “Yes, Mother, my husband and I are staying here.”

“That’s very nice, darling, that’s all I wanted to say. How’s it going with him?”

I hesitate, which is a mistake, because Mother can read all sorts of things into silence just as easily as she can into an actual answer. “They’re fine,” I say, and it makes her laugh. “What’s so funny?”

“I saw the way you two were at the funeral. You seemed very comfortable with him.”

“I was in mourning. He was comforting me.”

“The way a husband should.” She crosses her legs. “He’s very handsome, you know.”

“Mom, seriously, I don’t want to talk about this.”

“Come on, Elena. We both know why you can’t sit still right now. You’re practically bouncing off the walls with worry.”

“That’s not true.” I start folding a blanket that was already perfectly folded. “Everything is great. It’s peachy keen. It’s stupendous.”

“He was out with Simon and Davide last night,” Mom says and looks at her nails. “Your father told me all about it.”

I sigh and look at the ceiling. Of course Dad knows, and of course Mom got all the gory details. “He’s helping. That’s all.”

“And you’re fine with that, right? Everything’s peachy keen?”

I throw up my hands in frustration. “No, okay, nothing’s keen or peachy or whatever, it’s all a freaking mess. There, are you happy?”

“Not really,” she says and gestures for me to come sit next to her. I flop down onto the tall chair next to her and lean my elbows on the island, putting my face in my hands. She rubs my back. “You like him,” she says. Not a question.

“I don’t know what I feel,” I admit, which isn’t a no. “But I know it sucks that he’s getting dragged into this fight too, and I know it’s all my fault.”

“He wants to help because of you?” Mom sounds surprised. “I assumed it was because Simon made him an offer.”

“No, it was Brody’s idea. He saw the way I reacted to Matty and I guess he figured getting himself murdered would be a great idea.”

Mom’s quiet and I take a second to gather myself. I’m way too emotional right now, and I guess for good reason. There’s a war going on, I lost a friend, and I’m worried about losing even more—all on top of dealing with a new relationship.

“I take it he cares about you too,” she says finally. “That’s a good thing, sweetie.”

“You can say that at his funeral.”

She sighs and leans her head on my shoulder. “It doesn’t have to come to that. Your father’s still kicking.”

“Dad’s not a good example. He got shot, got addicted to pain pills, lost his mind, and had to retire.”

“Fair point, but still. Your brothers won’t let him get hurt.”

I’m not so sure about that. Davide’s single-minded and all he cares about is taking the fight to Santoro. Simon’s the same way, and he’ll do anything to win. That means they’d happily sacrifice Brody without any regard for how it might make me feel or the obvious moral quandary.

“I wish I could change his mind,” I say, feeling bleak. “But he’s so stinking stubborn. I swear, that man prides himself on having zero emotions.”

“Everyone has emotions, dear, and I’m sure Brody has plenty for you. Just try talking to him. Whenever your father was acting like a bastard, that’s what I did.”

“Yeah? How’d that go?”

“Mostly not great, but at least it made me feel like I was doing something.” She hugs me tighter, and I’m not feeling comforted, not even a little bit.

I have the day to stew. I exercise, hang out with Emily, talk to some of the guards about Matty, and meet Brody back home when he arrives around six. He’s tired, and I pour him some wine and order some delivery for us, before springing my plan on him.

“I’ve been thinking about your problem,” I say, trying to sound very casual. He looks up at me with those pretty green eyes of his.

“Which problem’s that?” he asks.

“The problem that should matter. The Waterfront project.”

He grunts, head tilted to the side, and I can tell he’s already skeptical. “That’s one thing on my mind.”

I sit down next to him, crossing my legs in his direction, and he puts a hand on my knee. I like the way he does it, so casually, like it’s completely normal to touch me when I’m nearby. For a man who tries to keep his emotions as level as possible, he sure as hell likes to put his hands on me. Not that I’m complaining.

“I was thinking we could ambush O’Malley. I made a few calls and it turns out she likes to go drinking at this place called The Spotted Leopard. It’s like a cheesy Irish bar.”

“I know the place,” he says with a soft laugh. “It’s in my fucking territory. The owner pays my people tribute.”

“Perfect,” I say, sitting up straight. His eyes move to my chest and I like the hungry way he licks his lips. But he needs to focus. “Then we’ll have a great excuse to show up there while she’s slightly inebriated and hopefully in a good mood.”

He looks amused as he tilts his head to the side. “O’Malley plays straight, remember? What’s the point in ambushing her?”

“She’s a person like everyone else. All we need to do is find a little leverage.” I pat his cheek and he playfully bats my hand away. “Don’t worry, sweetie, I’ll take care of it.”

“Listen to you,” he growls and grabs me, pulling me into his lap. I laugh, pretending to struggle. “You’re taking care of me now?”

“Exactly, just let me do all the work. You’re all about the brute force, and that works in some situations, but this needs a gentler touch.”

His eyebrows raise. “Like with Omar?”

“Omar was a special case. He hates your stinking guts. And I still don’t know why, by the way.”

Brody smirks and leans forward, brushing his lips against my throat. The stubble on his face tickles and I stifle a moan as my hips grind against him, and yep, that’s his hard dick between my legs. I swear, this man is constantly erect. It’s kind of flattering. Although a little inconvenient.

“Tell you what. You get O’Malley on our side and I’ll tell you the full story. How about that?”

“I feel like you already owe me,” I say, releasing a little whimper as I grind into him. His hands move around to grip my ass.

“Best offer you’re going to get, baby.”

“Fine. Deal.” I bite my lip and let out a soft breath, and I’m about to lean forward and bury his mouth with mine, but there’s a knock at the door.

I freeze. For some reason, I feel like I’m doing something wrong. But he’s my husband, and so what if I’m sitting in his lap and we’re kissing? I’m supposed to want to be with him, right? I’m supposed to want his mouth on mine and his hands all over my body.

“I think that’s our food,” I say, trying to find the willpower to get up.

He doesn’t release my ass, and if anything, he tightens his grip.

“The food can wait.”

“You’re so damn eager, aren’t you?” I smile and can’t help myself. It’s so fucking hot how badly he wants me.

“I can’t help myself.” The way he says it makes him sound like he’s got a disease or something.

I pull myself away. My heart’s racing, and all I want to do is get back on him and ride his dick until I scream with orgasm. But there’s another knock, and I need to tip the delivery guy, and I’m not about to let myself get distracted.

Besides, maybe wanting me will make him think twice the next time my brothers try to put him in a dangerous situation.

“You’re a tease,” he says, sitting back with a smile on his face, looking at me through his eyelashes.

“And you like it.” I walk away, stomach doing that flip-flopping thing, and I definitely like it too.