Page 28 of Heaven Help Me

Papa uses the bathroom and I watch Valentina from the front window while I wait. She’s struggling to unfold herself from the back seat of my Mercedes. Five-foot-ten people don’t fit in the back of these little cars, no matter how much they claim plenty of room. Her skirt’s not helping—yes, she returned the scrubs and lab coat to the hospital. I swallow a startled laugh as she flashes the whole neighborhood as she tumbles out. I ignore the way my gut tightens at the brief glimpse of black lace.

After I get Papa settled in his chair and he assures me no less than ten times that he’s fine, I head out, slipping back into the driver’s seat. I lean my head back, eyes closed. It takes some repeated mental mantras and deep breathing to get my heart rate to slow with each exhale. Eventually I feel my shoulders drop away from my ears.

“You okay?” Valentina asks softly.

My eyes open but I don’t turn my head. I can’t look at her right now. My defenses aren’t rebuilt enough to handle her scrutiny.

“He gets tired after his treatments. Says he can drive himself but I found him a day after his first treatment still in his favorite chair. Hadn’t eaten. Hadn’t gone to bed. Hadn’t done much but shuffle to the bathroom. I told myself I’d never let him go to another chemo session without me. I’ll drop by tomorrow morning to check on him, and I have a church friend of his coming over tonight with dinner.”

“You’re a good son.”

It’s a simple statement, one I’ve heard before. It means more coming from her though. Compliments from people who already care for you seem jaded. Compliments from people who hate you carry a heavier weight, like it has to be true otherwise they wouldn’t have said it.

I don’t answer, just put the car in gear and head back toward my house. Lottie knows my schedule and will close up the boutique for me. She always does on treatment days. I think of the binder Valentina probably left in the storage room and decide I’m glad she left it behind. One night off from planning the Battle of the Boutiques won’t harm anything. She deserves one peaceful night.

I’m quiet on the drive over, too buried in worry about my father to try to be conversational. I’m at my front door, Valentina brushing against my chest as she sails through the door before I remember she’s with me. Fuck. I need to clear my head quickly or Valentina will eat me alive. The woman can smell weakness like a vulture circling weak prey.

She spins in the entryway and waits for me to shut the door. “Okay, spill. What’s on your mind?”

I sigh, yanking on my tie. I need a good night’s sleep. Everything will be better in the morning. “Not tonight, Valentina. I’m not in the mood to fight.”

She steps into my space, pulling the tie from around my neck and wrapping it neatly around her hand. “Then what are you in the mood for, ciuccio.”

My lips twitch at the nickname. The little seductress, using her sex appeal like a weapon. Thankfully, it doesn’t work on me any longer, and two can play that game. I slowly take off my suit jacket. I toss it over the back of the barstool, then unbutton and roll up my sleeves. She watches me the whole time.

“I’m in the mood for my girlfriend to make me dinner, feed me, then tuck me into bed.”

The vision hits me like a freight train. Hot, heavy, and devastating. We’re teasing each other, but we take the bait anyway. She lifts up on her toes and goes to work on the top button of my shirt, her hands brushing against my neck. Her perfume clouds my senses, making my body respond even if I wish it wouldn’t. The tips of her breasts skim my chest, the touch light, but weighing so much heavier in my thoughts.

She lowers her voice to barely a whisper. “How can you be sure the dinner isn’t laced with poison? Maybe I’ll be tucking you into bed for the last time.”

My fists spring open and land on her hips, holding her in place. I can’t take another press of her body against mine or she’ll feel what she does to me. I tilt my head as she gets the button undone and works on the next. “If you do it right, it’d be a good way to go.”

Valentina lets out a purr. Visions of naked skin, her long legs straddling my waist, my hands reaching up to fist her hair. Like it was all those years ago, but better. So much better now that we’re both older and far more experienced.

I have to put a stop to this before it goes too far. I’m not sure either one of us would survive another round in bed together. I let go of her hips to land a quick swat to her ass cheek, skirting the edge of playful and painful. I smirk down at her, knowing exactly how much she likes playing on that edge.

“Don’t tell Bettina about my father. Swear to me.”

She blinks, and I take it as a victory. She was lost in the same fog of lust I was.

“Why?”

I step back and toe off my shoes like the loss of touch means nothing to me. “Because she’d use it against me somehow. My father is none of her business.”

Valentina puts a fist on one hip, eyes crackling with energy I can’t seem to summon myself. “You need the money she offered for his treatments.”

I dip my head to confirm.

Valentina shakes her head side to side slowly, then drops the fist. “Huh. And here I was thinking you were some lazy asshole rich guy who only cares about money.”

I snort. “Wow. You really think highly of me, huh?”

“Well, you did tell everyone we slept together. Asshole behavior, for sure.”

Now it’s my turn to prop a fist against my hip. “I did not!”

Valentina squares up with me, back in my space. “You did too!”