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“I bet. Rocco Moretti is alooker,” she laughed, and I chuckled along, even though a stab of possessiveness rolled through me. “But so are you, Allegra. You could have any guy you wanted.”
“All I want is him,” I muttered.
“Then you need to tell him that,” she said, but after he’d left me all those years ago, I couldn’t imagine telling him the truth, risking rejection.
“I don’t know if I can,” I admitted.
“Cold turkey or telling him the truth. Pick your poison, Allegra.”
“You’re right,” I said with a sigh. “Thank you for talking with me about everything. And if you want to go out next weekend, give me a call.”
“You know I will,” she chirped, hanging up the phone.
I laid down on the bed facedown. I did feel a little better, but not much. I had to stay away from Rocco or tell him how I felt, and neither of those options seemed to make any sense to me. I had a lot to think about, but first I needed a shower.
Once naked and in the bathroom, I looked in the mirror, seeing the marks on my body Rocco had made. He’d left purple blossoms around my throat like a bouquet, fingerprint bruises on my hips and thighs. I bit my lip, trailing my fingers over the marks. I loved it when he marked me, because looking at them later just made me shiver.
I ran myself a hot bath instead of a shower, delving into the water. It felt amazing against my sore muscles. I’d been on the go almost constantly for a long time, and it felt good to just relax. But my skin still felt hot to the touch, like I was still coming down from making love to Rocco. My fingers trailed down between my breasts, dipping in my bellybutton, and then between my lower lips, pressing my thumb against my clit just the way Rocco always did. My head spun. I just couldn’t stop thinking about him. Maybe this was the way to keep my hands off him—taking care of it myself.
But my fingers couldn’t get as deep as Rocco’s, and my touch didn’t make me tremble all over. My own touch wasn’t enough. I needed Rocco, his scent, his warm breath on my skin, wanted him inside me. I moaned softly and managed to make myself orgasm, but it wasn’t enough. I wanted more, wanted to get out of the tub and go back to see Rocco, make love to him all over again, but I restrained myself. I sighed, staying in the bath for far too long, my skin feeling like prunes.
After I got dressed, I toweled off my hair and walked next door to Matteo’s room, peeking in through the half-open door. He said he wanted it half-open because he had nightmares. I thought about how I never wanted him to have the nightmares I’d had. I hoped he wasn’t having the ones from when we’d been taken, that he wasn’t traumatized. He seemed to be sleeping fitfully, and I bit my lip, looking in on him. I’d never wanted him to be part of this life. I knew something like this would happen once people knew he existed, knew he was my son. And he’d be in even more danger when I took over for my father. I loved my son more than anything, and I thought about what would be best for him as I stood there, watching him with a worried expression on my face. Would it be best to be friends with Rocco? That would give Matteo someone else to protect him, someone else to love him. I’d thought before that I wanted him to have all the love he could, and that was still the case.
I sighed, walking back to my room and lying down face-up on the bed. I didn’t know what I was going to do, what path I was going to take, but I’d do anything for Matteo. I’d do anything to keep him safe and happy, and if that meant being friends with Rocco, then that was what I would do.
It took me a long time to fall asleep, and when I did, I had dreams of Rocco and I at the creek all those years ago. I’d just drifted off when Matteo came stumbling into my room, crying. “Oh no, honey, what’s wrong?” I asked.
“I dreamed Papa got shot,” he said, and I bit my lip, not wanting to tell him that his father had indeed been shot and made it through. “I dreamed he died, just like Alberto.” Shit. He’d seen Alberto die, and I couldn’t make that any easier for him. He’d seen too much. My heart ached. This was exactly why I’d kept him hidden, why I’d tried to keep him from this life.
“Papa’s okay, baby,” I told him.
Matteo sniffled. “Can we go and see him?” he asked.
I bit my lip. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”
“Please, Mama. I was so scared,” Matteo whispered, and I couldn’t tell him no, not when he was looking up at me with those big green eyes, not after everything he had been through.
I took his hand and we walked to Rocco’s room. I knocked quietly on the door, but he was up in an instant, just wearing a pair of gray sweats. “Allegra?” His eyes looked bloodshot, like he hadn’t been sleeping at all. He looked down at Matteo and his face softened. “Matteo?” Matteo threw his arms around his father and Rocco patted his back, leaning down to get on his level. “What’s wrong, buddy?” he asked.
“Had a bad dream where you died,” Matteo explained. “Can…can we sleep here tonight?”
I blanched as Rocco’s gaze snapped to mine. I hadn’t expected Matteo to ask that, hadn’t expected any of this to happen. “Of course you can,” Rocco said, giving me a look that said that we had to, that our son needed us. And he was right, of course. Matteo needed his mother and his father after going through such a traumatic event, and we would be there for him.
Matteo crawled into bed and Rocco and I got on either side of him, putting our arms around him. He was a little too big to be sleeping with his parents, but at the same time, after what he’d been through, I couldn’t complain. With Rocco’s arm around him and my hand playing in his hair, Matteo was asleep again within moments.
“You can leave if you want to,” Rocco said softly, not wanting to wake Matteo.
I looked over at him in the dark. “I think I’ll stay,” I said, my heart feeling full at how well Rocco was taking care of Matteo. “In case he wakes up.”
Rocco hummed in the back of his throat and cuddled up closer to Matteo. His hand brushed over my hip and I didn’t pull away. It felt amazing to be with them both like this. I could think of a thousand times I’d wished I could have just this, just all three of us in a room together. Just me and Rocco taking care of our son. And now I had it. And I didn’t want to let it go.
28
ROCCO
I woke up the next morning with one thing in mind—Allegra. I’d made a decision about what I wanted, and I couldn’t wait to make it happen. After breakfast, I asked Romeo if I could talk to him alone. “Of course,” he said, leading me to his office.
I closed the door behind me. “I wanted to talk to you about uniting with the Gallos," I said. “I think we should all go to dinner at Enzo’s.”
