By the end of our gun range time, Rosa decides on a Springfield 9mm, a .38 revolver, a lady smith, and a Colt for Pablo. Looney happily packs away the weapons, quietly adding silencers to the haul.
Rosa doesn’t complain about using the new shiny card with her name on it as she pays, and I sigh inside with relief as she puts it in her purse. While my wealth isn’t neverending, I can afford to give my wife whatever she wants or needs.
“There are custom holsters down the street at Nancy’s place,” he says. “She’s a seamstress. Tell her I sent you.”
“Thank you,” Rosa says warmly. Ciro picks up the bags, and my omega’s gaze barely shifts from Looney. My brother was rocked when the scent match hit him last night, and he sat outside drinking on the porch until it was time to leave for a morning run. I’m surprised no one mentioned the alcohol he was expelling from his pores.
There’s no greater regret than knowing you didn’t do enough for your scent match, and he’s feeling it two times over. He’s still not over the guilt with Pablo.
If he doesn’t snap out of this and start doing something to help me win the girl over, I’m going to need to force his hand. Maybe I’ll leave him in a room with her and let them figure it out.
I can dig myself from my hole, as long as my brothers also do the work.
We walk out of the shop in a group, and I gallantly take Rosa’s hand and place it over my arm.
“Nancy’s shop is a block away from here,” Dario says helpfully. “Can we escort you?”
He’s playing into our plans to keep the peace well. We can’t lead them anywhere, as they have their own minds. All we can do is suggest.
I need more practice at this. He’s better at playing peacemaker than I am.
“We can do lunch afterward if you’re hungry,” I add. I’m not sure what her appetite is like lately. It was shit while she was with us.
“I’m not,” Rosa says with a sigh. “I’m officially put off the grab and go item I’d typically drink if I was running around doing errands.”
“May Don Accetta roll on a spit for that,” Ciro growls.
“Now all I can think about is a pig roast,” Verona laughs. Rosa’s lips curve up slightly, and I wish more than anything I could hear her laugh easily.
Verona’s dress gets caught on a wire as we pass a fence, and Ciro drops to his knees to free her. My eyes shoot up to pan around us, looking for any trouble, something I’ve become more accustomed to while I was doing dates out with Rosa.
Depending completely on others to protect you is how you end up dead.
“Freedom,piccola,” Ciro says, standing.
“I’m not all that little,” she says, wrinkling her nose as she looks up at him.
“Most people are for us,” he says, winking.
I’m not the only one who sees her intake of breath, and she turns away to continue walking, galvanizing our group to move with her.
Forced proximity may be how we win over Rosa and Verona. My current work is tied up and finished while our men get settled in their new housing, and I am hiring people to take over things in Michigan that I trust. Rome wasn’t built in a day, andneither will my empire as I shift my residence for several months out of the year.
I’m already looking for property to buy. I have a lot of shit to clean up in my life and businesses, but I need to take it one step at a time.
“It’s a small place,” Rosa says as we arrive. “Let’s not overwhelm her. I’ll pop in and see if she can accommodate a few custom holsters. I loved the ones I had before.”
Pushing the door to the quaint seamstress’s shop, she leaves us outside as she enters.
“Her father used to lavish attention on her, even though it had a heavy price tag attached to it,” Verona says, sitting on the bench in front of the store. “What is the price for your attention, boys?”
Her fingers play with the remote in her hand and Pablo watches her nervously. Leaning forward, he kisses her temple, murmuring something to her before he follows Rosa inside. Ugh, I can’t even be upset that he left us to answer this.
Dropping to my haunches, I trust Dario to watch my back since he’s standing in front of me. Ciro also shifts so we can maintain our bubble of privacy and safety.
“Nothing.” Verona scoffs at my words, crossing her legs in her flowy flowery dress.
“There’s always something, Nicolai.”
