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Nico’s car had been idling in front of my parents’ place for a solid two minutes now, while he sat in the driver’s seat, tense and silent. I reached for my door handle, but he pressed the lock button before I could open it.
“Nico, we can’t sit in here forever,” I sighed.
His gaze met mine. “Screw the parties. Let’s go home. I’ll fuck you nice and slow all night long.”
Amusement bubbled up my throat. “You have a romantic way with words.”
He ran a hand across his mouth. “Who did you say was taking you?”
“Dominic, and the two men you’re secretly putting outside the club.”
A small smile pulled on his lips. “You’re nosy.”
“You talk loudly on the phone.”
“You got money?”
“Yes.”
“Your cell phone?”
“Yes,” I said, “though I don’t know why I needed a new one.”
He lifted a shoulder. Maybe it had been easier to buy a new one than to go home and get mine. We hadn’t been back to the house today, having stayed at the penthouse until now. I still had to find something to wear tonight, though most of my clothes were here at my parents’, anyway.
Benito came out to stand on the porch and Nico’s eyes narrowed on him. “You gonna break the news that we’re married?”
“Yes, I’ll make sure everyone knows I’m legally bound to Nicolas Russo.”
His amused gaze came my way. “Never thought my wife would have such a smart mouth.”
“Is it disappointing?”
His hand slid around the back of my neck and pulled my face to his. “There could be worse things.” He kissed me deep and slow. “You gonna have a fun time tonight?”
“Maybe,” I whispered against his lips. “But I’ll be missing you more.”
“Damn,” he drawled. “You’re sweet when you aren’t stealing from me.”
I flushed. “Are you going to let me get a job and pay you back?”
He laughed. “Do you know how much you stole? It would take you twenty years at best.”
“Well . . . I’m not going anywhere, am I?”
His gaze burned. “No. I think I’ll keep you.”
“Nico . . .” I swallowed. “I really am sorry about the money—”
“Don’t be. I’m impressed,” he said, amusement coating his voice. “There might be a little Russo in you yet.”
I knocked softly on the doorframe and cleared my throat. “Hi, Papà.”
He glanced up from the paperwork on his desk with an unreadable expression. “I hear you’ve gotten married.”
Everyone on the block must have heard it with how loud Mamma had screeched when she saw my ring. It wasn’t an ecstatic screech either—more like a horrified acquiescence.
I shifted in the doorway. “Yes.”
