Let Me Love You

I shook my head. “Feds don’t usually get called in to murders unless they happen on federal land or are somehow connected to . . . well, FBI things.” I wasn’t too privy to the inner workings of the Bureau, and I didn’t care to know. The feds weren’t cool with people like me who took justice into their own hands. “So no, Hudson couldn’t help in that department. He just wanted justice for Bianca. And he believed the court trial was bullshit, too.”

“But he’s not in the FBI anymore, right? I mean, I don’t think an agent would own a bar.” She shrugged. “But what do I know?”

“No, he, uh, quit shortly after we killed that man. He was pretty messed up about it.”

“But you said you and your brothers were arrested. Not him?”

I looked back at the front porch, and my mom waved us over as Izzy appeared at her side. And God, she resembled Bianca more and more. It fucking hurt to look at her sometimes.

“No,” I said, clearing my throat, “he wasn’t identified as being part of it, and we sure as hell didn’t give up his name. Probably part of the reason he felt guilty and quit the Bureau.” I didn’t know all the details because he’d always been much closer to Constantine. “We should go in. They’re waiting.” And with that, I shut off the engine and grabbed our suitcases that I’d crammed behind our seats since sending those guards home.

Once outside, it dawned on me Maria was still hesitant to go in. She was a horrible liar, which was an admirable trait in my opinion, so she was clearly worried about how to answer any questions she knew would be waiting for her.

She spun around, knocking into me, and I let go of the bags to catch her forearms, forgetting we had eyes on us. “What story did you give them as to why I’m here?”

“I gave them the partial truth. I explained your ex has Chiara until Sunday, and it’s hard on you, so you asked if you could join me on my trip. I guess they don’t need to know that Thomas is a psycho and his plans changed, and you’re here just to be a stubborn pain in my ass now.”

“I detect no sarcasm where there should be at the end of that sentence, mister.”

I couldn’t help but smile at that, damn her.

“And if I’m a pain, then good. Maybe you deserve it.” Worry lines cut across her forehead as she asked, “You didn’t tell them that we’re . . . well, you know?” That innocent tilt of her head as she searched for the words had my heart beating harder yet again.

“That we’re friends, colleagues, neighbors?” I arched a brow. “My mom is old-school, sweetheart. If I tell her I’ve had my hand and mouth between your thighs, she’ll have a heart attack.”

She pulled her arm back and playfully whacked my chest, and I deserved that. But it was worth the smile on her lips and the fact she appeared to shed some of her nervousness.

Her eyes narrowed, and she surprised me by saying, “There you are.”

“Huh?”

“This you. This you is the one I know and love. The one Chiara adores. I can see you now. Lost you here and there since last night, but I . . .”

My world basically flipped off its fucking axis and I stopped hearing anything she’d said after love. She probably meant it as a friend kind of thing, but I didn’t care. It was the first time she’d tossed that word my way, and I’d latch on to it and save it for when I started to lose myself all over again and needed to find my way back to her.

But hell, she was right. Standing there with her on my parents’ driveway, the ground wet, gray skies and all, I could be whoever she needed me to be. And for a few seconds, I nearly considered letting the police handle Bianca’s case.

“Can you do me a favor?” I reached for her hand, forgetting our audience again, because maybe there was hope for me after all. Maybe she was right, and she had the power to ground me. Keep me from falling too far. Too dark.

“Anything,” she murmured.

“Remind me of who I am from time to time.” I squeezed her hand. “The man you see. The one you think I am, at least.”

Her eyes became slits, as if somehow my words nearly drew tears from her. “I’d happily remind you every hour of every day.”

“Are you two coming or what?” Izzy called out, breaking us from the moment, and she waved as if we didn’t see them waiting for us. And for whatever reason, they both seemed to sense it was better not to come to us.

“You ready?” I let go of her.

“I can do this,” Maria said under her breath.

“I got you,” I promised. “Always.”

“And here I thought I came to New York to have your back.” Only half her mouth smiled that time. An awkward but adorable one.

“Maybe it can go both ways?”

“Only a ‘maybe’?”

I grabbed our bags and tipped my head, motioning for her to walk. “I’m a work in progress,” I admitted. “I’m trying.” And I really was.

“Finally!” My mom tossed her hands in the air as we approached, and then she eagerly pulled Maria in and squeezed her.

I set down the bags inside the foyer. “Come here, you,” I said to Izzy and gave her a big bear hug, because it’d been too damn long since I saw my little sister. I swallowed. My only sister now.

Izzy squeezed me right back, holding on longer than I expected. I spied Maria doing her best to answer questions my mom was rapidly firing her way.

“Where’s everyone?” I asked, rescuing Maria from my mother’s inquisition. Giving one last squeeze, I released my sister, who immediately walked over to Maria and embraced her.

“The boys are in the study downstairs. Your father got tied up with something in the city. He promised he’d be home before dinner, though.” Mom grabbed hold of my forearm and pulled me tight to her side while patting my arm like I was five. “What’s up with the extra security Constantine hired? We expecting trouble?”

I knew my brother already gave her a reason why he had the extra security detail at the estate, but Mom was trying to entrap me. Ensuring Constantine had told her the truth. Knowing our history, I didn’t blame her.

I looked back and forth between her and Izzy, trying to remember what Constantine had told me over the phone. “Homeland Security,” I sputtered at the memory, finally jarring it loose from my brain. “DHS said there’s been an increase in threats against some of New York’s wealthiest families, and he’s overly cautious. I’m sure there’s nothing to worry about, Ma.”

Her brows slanted. Nope, she wasn’t buying our bullshit, but she wouldn’t want to worry Izzy, and with Maria in her presence, she wouldn’t press. “Well,” she said, eyes on Maria, “I’m putting you in Enzo’s old bedroom.”

“Maria and I are sharing a room, huh?” I pulled my arm free from Mom’s so she could swat me like I knew she was about to, and yup, right on the arm like my teacher used to do at Catholic school with the ruler. What could I say? I had a mouth on me back then.

“No, she’s a Romano, silly. She’s staying alone.” Mom dragged out her last word for extra emphasis. “You’re staying in the guest room with Alessandro.”

“Like hell I am,” I grumbled, feeling like a teenager again being back in this house.

“I put bunk beds in there, you know, in case anyone ever gives me grandkids one day.” For whatever reason, Mom’s Italian accent always became ten times thicker whenever talking about babies.

“Good luck with that, Ma.” Izzy suppressed a chuckle with the back of her hand, and Mom elbowed her in the side.

“Well, there will certainly be no baby making happening while we’re all in this house the next few days, which is why Pablo, whenever he gets here, is staying out in the pool house,” Mom went on, pointing a finger Izzy’s way while closing an eye.

“Pablo?” I held up a hand, shooting my sister a confused look. “Like, as in Picasso?” I couldn’t help but tease.

Izzy rolled her eyes. “Don’t start. Alessandro has already spent an hour giving me hell, and Constantine’s been abnormally silent, even for him, which speaks volumes. So not you, too.” She looked at Maria as if she’d assist her in the boyfriend department. “He is an artist, though.”

“Oh, fuck me. This is too good.” I slapped a hand to my chest, not realizing how much I needed the comic relief with so much shit going on.

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