Page 6 of Sicilian Savior

“Um, no. I’m not,” she responded quietly.

“Oh. I see,” I said, then cringed over the pathetic tone of my voice.

Who had this woman turned me into? Some pimple-faced teen sad the girl he asked to prom said no? This wasn’t me. I didn’t do sappy and sad. I didn’t do longing and lust. Those words weren’t even in my damn vocabulary. Yet here I was, feeling like I’d been punched in the gut since I’d have to wait longer to see her again.

I had no idea why Lucia was having this effect on me. I’d met plenty of hot women in my life, but the moment I’d clapped eyes onto her, she’d consumed my every thought. Her face. Her smile. Her body. Her eyes. Her scent. Like she’d cast some crazy spell over me the day we’d met.

It should have pissed me off, and a few years ago, when I was still active and couldn’t have any attachments to anyone or anything that lasted longer than a night, it would have pissed me off. But now that I was retired, for the first time in my adult life, I started to let the thought of having a woman of my own enter my thoughts. It seemed foreign to me to imagine coming home to one, but the thought of seeing Lucia’s face every night sparked something inside my chest and refused to leave.

“My car wouldn’t start this morning, so I’m stuck at my house today,” she went on. “I’m not even sure if I can get to the store tomorrow either. I’m trying to get ahold of a repair guy to take a look, and I can’t afford a cab ride back and forth to town right now. You have a key, though, right? You can just let yourself in.”

“Your car won’t start?” I said, my voice lifting more than it should have. “What’s it doing?”

“It just clicks when I turn the key.”

“Probably your starter. I can come and take a look if you want.”

A long pause while I held my breath. Please say yes.

“I, uh... I don’t know if it’s a good idea for you to come to my house.”

What the hell was up with this woman? You’d think I had three heads, talons, and fangs by the way she appraised me like I was a predator. I mean, she wasn’t wrong. I’d been a predator of sorts, but not the kind who would ever hurt a woman. In fact, I’d been the kind of predator who’d protected people like her. In my past, I’d done whatever it took to save the lives of innocents. I’d been the kind of predator who’d stalked and slaughtered other predators. But unlike them, I was an apex predator and the last one standing. Always.

But for some reason, I put her on edge. Maybe she was particularly intuitive and could sense the danger lurking just beneath my surface. But my intuition, honed through training and years of experience, told me something else caused her to behave like skittish prey. Something else hunted her and made her suspicious of everything around her... including me.

I chuckled to set her at ease. “Lucia, are we back to you thinking I’m a serial killer again? Because I swear to you that I don’t kill stranded women on Thursdays. Oh shit. It’s Wednesday. You’re not safe,” I joked.

I heard her soft laugh.

“Let me come and take a look at your car. I’m extremely good at fixing shit. With any luck, I can get you up and running without it costing you a penny.”

“Really?”

“Yes. Really. Just text me your address, and I’ll head your way.”

She breathed into the phone for a few long seconds before answering, “Okay. I’ll text you the address now. Thanks, Knox.”

My stupid, obnoxious heart leaped at the words.

“Great. I’ll be there soon.”

We hung up, and I stared at my phone, waiting for the address to pop up. After a minute, I started to worry she’d changed her mind, but finally, my phone dinged. I read the text and started my Harley, and within thirty seconds, I was heading her way.

When I got to her place, I slowed down as I pulled into the driveway. Christ, this place was in as rough of shape as my uncle’s. The paint was chipping off, the wooden steps looked rotten, and the railing from the porch tilted at an angle that suggested if anyone leaned on it, they’d end up ass over teakettle in the weeds below.

But as terrible as the house looked, when I saw her step out onto the porch, it morphed into the most beautiful place I’d ever seen.

Good God, man. Get your sappy shit together.

I killed the engine and climbed off my bike. Lucia stood on the porch with her arms wrapped around her waist, wearing leggings and an oversized off-the-shoulder jersey shirt. Her dark hair was knotted up into a messy bun, and like the other day I’d seen her, she had little makeup on. But she may as well have been standing there in a couture evening gown with how my body tightened like a bow about to snap.

“Hey.” I ran a hand through my windblown hair to smooth it while I walked toward her but stopped before I got too close. My instincts advised me to approach her with caution. Treat her like a timid, wild animal. Slow. Steady.

“Hey.” Her full lips lifted in a half-smile. “Thanks for coming all the way out here to help me. You didn’t have to do that.”

I lifted a shoulder and let it drop. “Ah. I love working on cars. I used to do it for fun. Happy to try to help.”

“There’s Ethel.” She pointed to the maroon four-door sedan that looked like it’d seen better days a decade ago.