I felt a surge of relief when I listened to my father defend Wolfe’s good character. After months of proving himself, Wolfe had finally earned the trust of everyone here. He really had busted his ass for this family, put his life on the line and cleaned up the bloody mess from our enemies. He’d kept my father and brother alive when they’d been outmaneuvered by Luigi Lombardi. He’d definitely earned it—and I felt a sense of pride.
“There’s a storm coming on the horizon,” my father said ominously. “I don’t know if it’ll be a lightning storm or a rainstorm… a blizzard or a tornado or volcanic eruption. But something is on the horizon, and we need to be ready for when it hits the shore.”
Dinner was ready, but Wolfe still hadn’t shown up.
We hadn’t actually talked yet today, but I assumed he would be there because he always came over unless otherwise stated. He hadn’t reached out and I didn’t want to text him and be clingy, but I also started to worry.
The anxiety finally got to me, so I texted him.I just want to know you’re okay.
The three dots didn’t pop up right away like they normally did.
Now I really started to panic. He was always responsive. I wasn’t worried he’d lost interest or decided to ghost me. I was worried he was bleeding by the side of the road. I wasn’t sure what to do. If I should call or text again. I decided to call.
It rang once before he answered. “Let me call you back.”Click. He hung up before I had the chance to say anything, and hedidn’t call me baby. His tone was totally different too, abrasive and hard, like I was one of the guys instead of his woman.
Maybe he wasn’t alone, and he didn’t want anyone to hear my voice.
I remembered he shared his location with me, so I checked his name and saw he was still near Port Gela. That was where the customs office was located, so maybe something had gone sideways.
It was about twenty minutes later when he texted me.It’s been a fucking day. Be there in about an hour.
It’s okay, I can see you tomorrow. I just wanted to make sure you’re alright.
I want my baby.
I’d never been in a serious relationship before, but even without having a comparison, I knew this was different. I knew men weren’t this straightforward and transparent. It didn’t matter how busy he was—he always took my calls. It didn’t matter how tired he was—he always made time to see me.
This man had ruined me for all other men, physically, emotionally, romantically…
I set the oven on low and returned the food to keep it warm until he came home. He probably hadn’t had a chance to eat, so he would be starving when he walked in the door. I checked his location to see when he was close, and once he headed down the dirt road to my villa, I set the table and poured the wine so it would be ready when he walked in.
The front door opened and closed. “I’m home, baby.” He always announced himself when he walked in, like he was afraid hemight scare me otherwise. He entered the room in a gray t-shirt and black jeans, hair tousled a bit like he’d been fidgeting with it in exhaustion. When his eyes reached mine, the clouds of fatigue started to dissipate as the sunlight broke through. A little grin moved over his handsome face. “Worth it.” He came to me, hooked his big arms around me, and pulled me close to kiss me.
I melted like a piece of chocolate on a warm tongue. Felt such an ease and a coziness whenever he walked in the door. The place had felt like home before Wolfe entered my life, but now whenever I was home alone, it felt like a strange place. It wasn’t complete without the sound of his footsteps on the stairs, without his body in my bed, without his clothes left on the back of the armchair.
He let me go and went straight to the table. Dropped into the chair and hunched over his food and started to eat without waiting for me to sit across from him because he was obviously starving.
I moved around the table and took a sip of my wine.
With arms on the table, he practically inhaled his food. “So fucking good.”
“You like salmon?”
“I like anything you make,” he said between bites. “I’m not sure what you do better. Cook or fuck.”
“Probably cook,” I said. “You’re the one who’s good at the fucking.”
He smirked before he finished his plate in a couple bites. “Is there more? I didn’t have lunch.”
“Yeah, in the oven.”
He carried his plate back to the kitchen and pulled out the casserole dish. He scooped more of the salmon onto his plate along with the gnocchi sauteed in a pesto sauce. He piled it on then came back to the table to continue to devour his meal.
“Something went down with the guys at customs?”
“Yeah,” he said. “Some of the federal guards were there, and I had to handle that.”
“You—you didn’t kill them, right?”
