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“Nic!” I squealed back as I flipped Gabe’s son upside down and made him squeal louder. “Where have you been this morning,ometto?”
“At the dentist,” he shrieked as I lifted him up higher by his ankles. “See?” He smiled, showing off his teeth. “Dr. Gallo says my teeth are perfect,” he explained, sounding a little odd since he kept right on smiling, making sure I got a good look at his pearly whites.
“I agree with Dr. Gallo,” I said as I lowered his feet to the ground.
He smiled even bigger, pleased with this assessment. “I have to go tell Bob,” he said right before he shot off up the stairs, apparently, on his way to tell his pet skunk all about his visit to the dentist.
At the same time, his mother, Cait, came in through the open door, smiling, if looking a little exhausted.
I couldn’t blame her. I wasn’t exaggerating when I said that boy was a ball of energy. I don’t think he ever slowed down.
“Buongiorno, amica,”I said, giving her a one-armed hug. “It sounds like it was a successful checkup.”
Cait smiled and nodded. “Nic didn’t like the dentist in Colombia much. He said the man never smiled and he smelled like old markers. I don’t even know what that means.” She laughed.
The sound was lighter now than it had been not that long ago when I’d met her. To say she’d had a hard life was kind of like saying a guy on death row was having a bad day. After being ripped away from Gabe five years ago, he’d found her—and his son—just a few months ago. The reunion had done wonders for all three of them.
“But I imagine you didn’t stop by to get the scoop on Nic’s dentist,” she said.
“As glad as I am his new dentist doesn’t smell like old markers, I’m afraid not. I have to go talk to Freya, but we need to arrange a girls’ night. I’ll check back with you in a bit?” “Sounds good.” Presuming the sky didn’t fall and no cartel assholes threw a monkey wrench in the plan.
I hightailed it out of there thirty seconds later, wondering what Brute was up to as I revved the engine of my cherry-red BMW and headed in the direction of the Lucianos’ estate. He’d said something about church. Not the religious kind, but the kind where the members of the Old Dogs sat around a table and hashed out club business—which could mean anything from discussing monthly dues to retaliation plans.
It wasn’t difficult to picture Brute at the head of that table, gavel in hand, every man in the room paying careful attention to every word he spoke.
“I just know I’m not finished with you yet, and I don’t think you’re finished with me either,”he’d said, and just like then, the words sent a tingling shot of arousal through my body. He was right; I wasn’t finished. But this was uncharted territory. Uncharted, dangerous territory.
Somehow, the Lucianos’ gray stone estate appeared right in front of me. Apparently, I’d been driving on auto-pilot. I pulled into the driveway and shifted the car into park. There were no other cars in the driveway, but that wasn’t much of a surprise. The Lucianos had a five-car garage attached to the house and a separate garage behind the house for the cars they collected. There was a jet black Lykan HyperSport in there that had had me drooling on more than one occasion.
I climbed the front stone steps and was just about to knock when the door opened. Aurelio stood there in one of his “Mr. Rogers” cardigans, smiling at me.
He wasn’t the doorman, but he was the kind of man who made himself useful in whichever way the opportunity arose.
“Good afternoon,SignorinaAgossi,” he greeted me.
I rolled my eyes at him. “It’s Greta, and you know it, Aurelio.”
“Of course, I do,” he said with a sly smile as he stepped back, letting me into the marble-floored foyer. “Perhaps, if I use the title enough, you’ll start acting like it.”
Fat chance.“You know me better than that.”
‘SignorinaAgossi’ sounded elegant, like my mother had been; soft-spoken, with her dark hair always carefully swept up in elaborate up-dos and her clothes always wrinkle-free. Somehow, she could play with me at the park and never get a smudge of dirt on her. I, on the other hand, came home more often than not with grass-stained knees, dirt-covered clothes, and a ponytail full of leaves.
“I do, indeed,” he said, nodding. “And knowing you so well, I believe there’s someone here you’d be happy to see.”
An image of Brute flashed behind my eyes, but I shoved it away.Time to stop acting like some lovesick puppy, dumbass.
Aurelio stepped back, nodding toward the front parlor, off to the right of the foyer. I peeked around the corner, not sure who he could be referring to, and caught sight of Enzo Luciano and the man standing with him. A tall man, two years younger than Deo, with short, blond hair. Not buzzcut short, but the kind of short that still felt really funny if you ran your fingers over it.
“Cielo,” I cried and ran across the room.
He scooped me up and swung me around in a ridiculous hug.
It was only when he put my feet back down on the floor that I realized I was probably interrupting something here.Oops.
I ventured a quick glance up at Enzo, but he didn’t look pissed. More amused.
I took a step back from Cielo and plastered a polite, apologetic smile on my face. “I’m sorry,SignorLuciano. I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
