Frisk Me

“Oh, that’s right. You finished a coaster once, didn’t you?”


His grandmother was already rolling up her yoga mat. “What color lipstick do you think I should wear? Classic red or shocking orange. I’m thinking orange. Also, have either of you seen my push-up bra? I’m worried I left it at Ned’s house.”

Neither brother responded, and Anthony very slowly turned his head to look at Luc. “She belongs in a home. One with bars on the window.”

“I’m beginning to think the Manhattan zip code isn’t worth this,” Luc muttered.

“Nothing is worth this,” Anthony said, watching in horror as Nonna made a puckering motion in the mirror and applied coral lipstick before trying to plump her nonexistent cleavage.

A knock at the door ended Nonna’s primping, but it launched Luc into a whole other kind of hell. One where the woman he wanted so much it hurt would be in his bedroom.

And not in the kind of way that would end with her on her back on the bed. Or on her knees. Or, hell, he’d take Ava Sims just about any way he could get her.

The sight on the other side of the door reminded him of every reason why he couldn’t back her against the wall and inch up her tight skirt.

It wasn’t just Ava.

It was Ava and two men with hefty cameras on their shoulders.

Luc nodded at Mihail. The other guy wasn’t familiar, but he stuck out a hand with a curt, “Tom.”

Finally Luc let himself look at Ava, but she’d already scooted past him and was laughing like crazy at something his brother had said.

Damn it.

Maybe Nonna was right; he should have put on his uniform.

For all of Ava’s posturing about how men in uniform didn’t do it for her, she was certainly doing an awful lot of simpering over his older brother.

As though reading his thoughts, Nonna caught his eye and made a pistol gesture with her fingers, mouthing get your gun, before doing some Wild West twirl thing and tucking it into her belt.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

“Thanks so much for inviting us to your home, Mrs. Moretti,” Ava was saying to a gloating Nonna.

“It was Luca’s idea,” his grandmother said, eyes all wide and innocent. “I just asked since he’s so shy.”

Anthony snorted and Ava arched a dark eyebrow. “Shy?”

“Luca, why don’t you show Ava your bedroom?”

“Sure. Nonna. Did you leave the condoms on the nightstand like I asked?”

“Luc!” Ava looked scandalized, but his grandmother hooted.

“I can show you my bedroom,” Anthony said, giving Ava a wink.

A wink.

Anthony was fucking winking now.

Luc dropped his chin to his chest in defeat. “Hey, Mihail?”

“Yeah?” The spindly cameraman paused in the process of setting up his equipment, looking surprised to be addressed.

“If I tell you where my gun is and how to get to it, do you think we could have a safe word, and if this keeps up, you put me out of my misery?”

Mihail reached into his pocket, fished out a yellow gummy worm, and chewed thoughtfully. The man actually looked serious.

“No guns,” Ava said in her bossy voice. “Anthony, stop flirting, Nonna quit interfering, Luc, remove stick from ass—”

“I don’t—”

Ava charged again, refusing to be interrupted. “For the next thirty minutes, I’m in charge, and you’re all going to be damn glad for that because I can get us out of this quickly. Okay?”

She looked expectedly around the room, waiting for someone to argue, but nobody did.

Luc wanted to argue, but he’d gotten kind of distracted by wondering if she was that bossy in bed, and how he would feel about it if she were.

Her eyes collided with his, and Luc decided. He would feel good about it. Very good.

She gave him a narrow-eyed look before clapping her hands together and starting to point every which way and shouting out orders.

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