Page 280 of Cara & Gian: The Guzzi Duet

Had he been just a few minutes later …

“Mook, Daddy!”

Gian looked to Marcus. The toddler pointed firmly at the fridge, wanting what he wanted, and he didn’t want to wait one more minute. His oldest son was like his father in that way.

Had Gian second guessed himself back then, he would not have what he had now.

Gian didn’t regret any of it at all.

He quickly got his boy’s drink set up in a sippy cup, and set Marcus into his high chair so he could watch one of his favorite cartoons. Satisfied that his boy and his mother were thoroughly distracted, Gian headed back upstairs.

He should let Cara sleep.

He should …

Gian had other plans. Now that his twins were born, he could finally get Cara down the aisle, as she had promised him all those months ago. The problem was, he had been overthinking this for too long. When to ask, how to ask, and all of that nonsense.

He realized one morning, while Marcus cuddled into his chest, and Cara fed the twins, that it was all rather obvious. Their best moments, and their best conversations, always happened in bed. He didn’t know why, but it was true.

Gian didn’t think this would be any different.

At some point, Gian stopped caring about what others thought—and their fucking opinions—regarding his unmarried state, his children born out of wedlock, and how it made him appear as a boss to other families.

Fuck those families.

Gian was too busy raising his own family to play into other people’s politics. Besides, his ability to run a criminal organization was only dependent on his capability to keep control of the men, not which woman wore a ring and had his last name.

Although, he was working on that, too.

Just not to please anyone else but himself.

And Cara.

Slipping into their master bedroom, Gian found his wife was still sleeping happily. On the bedside table, the baby monitor lit up with the rhythmic sound of the twins’ breaths.

Seeing Cara curled into the blankets on his side of the bed, holding tight to one of his pillows, made Gian pause. Instead of waking her up like he had planned, he sat down in one of the rockers in the corner, and simply watched his lover.

Marcus was fine with his grandmother.

The twins were okay.

He had time.

They so rarely had time lately.

As he watched Cara, her dreams flickering behind her closed lids, Gian found his peace. Too often, his days and duties and stresses got away with him, and he forgot about the important pieces in his life that brought him happiness. Beautiful things like Cara.

Gian hadn’t realized it, but he’d pulled the small velvet box from his slacks pocket, and was flicking the lid open and closed. Why he was fidgeting, he wasn’t sure. He wasn’t nervous, but anxious.

The two-carat ruby, set atop a crown of diamonds on a white-gold band, rested inside the box, nestled amongst a velvet bed. He thought, when he had found the piece, that it fit Cara better than any other ring could. Certainly, better than normal diamonds, or something else of equal flashy appeal.

Red, like her hair and her lips.

Red, like the color of her passion and her love.

Red, like the hurricane they were together and apart.

Red was the color of all extremes, both good and bad. It was the color best described by the strongest human emotions—love and anger. Red was the color of blood, of a man’s heart, and he thought if it were possible to see inside his soul, it would be a crimson shade, too.