Page 30 of Mafia’s Fake Bride

“I do when you’re with me, or I have someone else in the family with me, but on my own? I’ve spent enough time alone that I long for some company more than anything. And going to museums and shops is more fun when you have someone with you. I’m happy enough on my own, at home, but when I go out, I’d rather not be alone.” She looked a little embarrassed by her admission and looked away.

“It’s to be expected, I guess. Are you sure you want to join me at work, Marie?” He took a breath before he continued. “It would be alright if you didn’t, you know? Aunt Celeste wants a man to take over, even though you’re entitled to it, but if you want me to push I can. Or if you don’t want to take part in it at all, that’s fine too.”

“No, I don’t want to take it all from you, Matteo, and I’m not so afraid that I’d be chased away. I would like to join you though, be a part of it. Do something besides sit around all day shopping online or having lunch with the other ladies. I’m not the kind to sit around doing nothing, not for long anyway.”

Their food arrived then and they both dropped the matter as they focused on the delights that earned the restaurant its reputation. Matteo watched Marie, worried about her. She seemed to be doing alright, adjusting to life in a world that was completely different from her old one, in a new place with people she didn’t know. She had a slightly tired look around her eyes, a shadow beneath the lower lids that she hadn’t learned to hide with makeup yet.

He decided to let her rest tonight and not keep her up until the early hours. He delighted in her, in the sounds she made as he explored her body, but she needed some sleep. He barely tasted the food, he was so caught up in watching her, but she seemed to enjoy it. She smiled happily as she put her fork down a short while later, and sighed.

“That was incredible.” She wiped at her mouth with a napkin and put it down.

“It always is here.” He put his own fork down, done with the meal. He’d finished it all but had no memory of eating it. All he could remember was her, the way she ate so delicately. Her mother had taught her table manners, at least. She’d even been able to pick out the correct fork at his aunt’s at Christmas when the table had been decorated with an assortment of tableware. She was full of surprises like that, though.

“Do you want dessert?” he asked, his gaze on her chest. Maybe they could go back to the house for a quick… nap. He loved the way the panels of her red sweater opened when she leaned forward to reveal her enticing cleavage. His fingers itched to push those panels open and look at her beautiful body.

Then he looked up and saw her face, unguarded, and saw how truly tired she was. “Why don’t I drive you home, Marie? You look exhausted.”

“I’m just a little tired today, that’s all. We didn’t get to sleep until 3 am, you know?” A smile played around her lips, a delighted smile that held just a little hint of naughty promise.

“I do know, and you were amazing, as always.” He pulled her hand to his and signaled with the other to the waiter for the bill. “You took a taxi over?”

“Yes, I’m terrified to drive in this city.” She looked down, a flush of embarrassment heating her skin. “I know you got me the new car, but, I just can’t manage it.”

It was a small, red sports car, and she hadn’t driven it yet. He suspected she was afraid of damaging the thing, but he didn’t care, so long as she could be independent and didn’t hurt herself.

“We’ll go out this weekend and I’ll help you to get used to it. Don’t worry, you’ll soon be a pro at getting around traffic here.” He stood up as the waiter brought their bill over in a plastic folder and then left with a wish that they come back soon. Matteo nodded at the man, paid at the cash register, and guided Marie out to his car.

Once they were in, he leaned over to kiss her. She tasted of the wine they’d shared and mint. She’d snuck one in while they were at the cash register, he guessed. “You always taste so good.”

He murmured the words hotly against her lips, unwilling to pull away just yet. She pulled her face back to his and he knew it wasn’t just him that didn’t want the kiss to end. His hands were between her thighs, pushing up her skirt, and her breathing said she wanted him. The way she moaned when his fingers slid inside of her said the same.

There went that idea of letting her have a break, he thought, but the guilt washed away when she begged him for more. Letting her rest was going to be hard work, he thought with a chuckle as he gave her exactly what she wanted.

17

Spring was in the air and the world was coming back to life. That tended to happen in April, though. Marie looked down at the world below and saw splashes of pinks and white that weren’t snow. She’d been delighted when it snowed the day after Christmas, and then again on New Year’s Eve. By February, she was over her childlike excitement and saw each new flake of snow as the next drop of brownish-black sludge that it would turn to in the city.

Now, green shoots were poking up from the ground and flowers started to bloom. The world was about to bloom back into life. She sipped at her coffee and her thoughts drifted back, all the way down to the bayou, where crawfishermen would be busy trapping and families would be coming together to eat the fruits of that labor. Not that she’d ever taken part in such get-togethers, but she’d seen them from her car. Everyone smiled, laughed, and had a good time with each other.

It was a far cry from the city so far away in the north and from the family she’d found with Matteo. Matteo’s family had thawed towards her, a little, well some of them had. Celeste had only made an appearance in Marie’s life that one evening on Christmas day. Trina had become a fixture in her life, though, a constant that kept Marie smiling.

Matteo and his cousin made life easier up here, where everyone sounded strange, and even the food was different. There were plenty of restaurants claiming to make Cajun or Creole food, but it wasn’t the same. And she was starting to miss the quiet nights that weren't quiet at all. The road noise, the constant drone of a million machines, everything made a noise, a vibration, that came up through the floors and walls of the penthouse as a low but always present hum.

She knew it would be warmer down there, and she would be able to put away the winter clothes and break out her shorts and flip flops again. But would she? Matteo had chosen her clothes for her, basically. He’d given her a list of items to buy and had even shopped with her online to find appropriate apparel. It was only now, as she thought about her summer habit of flipflops and shorts, that she wondered if Matteo was… ashamed of her.

He was at work, at one of the warehouses possibly, and she was in the penthouse alone. She’d been happy to make sure she didn’t embarrass him in front of his family, that she looked the part of a woman he could be proud of, but now, she wondered if she’d have to buy new clothes to wear in the spring and then in the summer too. Would he let her wear her shorts or flip flops?

They still hadn’t said those three magic words, and she’d started to wonder if they ever would. Matteo would get this look on his face sometimes, a look that almost scared her because it looked like he was afraid. Helpless and on the verge of spilling all of his secrets. All those secrets that she could see on his face sometimes. She’d hold her breath until something in him would give, but it never did.

A wall would come down over those fascinating brown eyes, and he’d close off. The spark would fade from his face, that moment of absolute wonder would disappear, and he’d be the hard man that she’d seen him be around his aunt. The automaton that didn’t feel anything.

She knew she loved him, though. She felt it keenly sometimes, so sharp it almost hurt her, how much she loved him. It was the times when he’d turn away that she loved him the most because she knew it was hurt that made him turn away. It was fear and the past that he rarely mentioned that made it so very hard for him to let himself love her.

The fact that he never saw his mother, never spoke to her, that told her what she needed to know. The hints that his mother was an alcoholic that she’d picked up from Trina, suggested something even deeper about the entire thing. Celeste took over his upbringing and from the way Trina spoke about Celeste and how she’d raised him, Marie knew that his childhood had not been a good one.

It wasn’t easy to love Matteo but she’d known from the start that it wouldn’t be. Sometimes, he’d disappear for days, no explanation at all, but he’d come home eventually. All he’d want to do when he made it back was hold her. He’d come into the house, take her in his arms, and just stand there wrapped up in her. That’s how she knew he loved her, every now and then he showed it, even if he didn’t say it.

He made an effort to make her laugh when he knew she was down. When he could see the past was tormenting her, he’d do something for her like take her out for ice cream or to get cheesecake. He didn’t see shopping as a treat, and she was glad about that, she didn’t much like how much money he’d spent, even if he had bricks of it stacked in a safe at a bank. He didn’t use his money to show affection, he used it to give her the things he saw as necessities. He used his humor, his kindness, and the way he always talked to her like he saw her as a person.