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Because I was made for this life—I knew that. I felt that in my bones. But choosing the mafia over Willow? Choosing anything over her after experiencing even a glimpse of how soul-destroying life was without her?
“I’d disappear with you today,” I said gruffly, honestly.
But from the understanding swirling in those green eyes and the gentle curl of her mouth, my answer hadn’t surprised her. It was almost as if she’d wanted me to know, without a doubt, exactly what she meant to me.
“I can handle you and your life,” she said firmly, a gasp of surprise bleeding into a needy whimper when I crushed my mouth to hers to taste the claim. Taste her.
All vanilla and lavender and mine.
“I love you,” I breathed against her lips before parting them. Slowly. Teasingly. Nearly groaning when she fisted my shirt in her hands and drew me closer as I swept my tongue into her mouth.
The kiss nothing less than a slow, seductive dance that promised carnal endings.
Tipping her head back, I deepened the kiss as I knelt on the bed. Towering over her and loving the way a shiver rolled through her when I began laying her down. But then her back hit the bed, and her subdued hiss fanned across my lips as she tensed beneath me.
“Shit.”
“I’m fine,” she hurried to assure me, but I slowly shook my head. Letting my mouth brush across hers a few times before I placed my hands on either side of her and shifted away.
“You aren’t,” I argued, a wry grin tugging at the corner of my mouth when I added, “Conor even warned me against this exact thing.” A laugh worked up my throat at the frustration that crossed her beautiful face, and I hurried to steal another quick kiss. “I have something to show you anyway.”
“I don’t want it if it means we’re leaving this spot,” she said when I pushed from the bed.
My next laugh was louder as I carefully helped her to her feet. “Trust me, that’s the last thing I wanna do. But I also don’t want Conor to kill me because he has to fix your stitches again, and this is one of my favorite things.”
“Sandwiches?” she teased when I began pulling the comforter off the bed.
My head listed because there would be sandwiches there, but that wasn’t it. “Not quite.”
“Blueberry scones?” she tried again, not nearly as confident as before.
“Mini blueberry scones,” I corrected, feigning offense that she hadn’t noticed, then gently pressed my hand to her back and led her to the door. “And again...not quite. Just wait.”
“Okay, but can I change if we’re leaving the room?” she asked, pulling from me just before I reached the door.
I turned to take her in, my stare slowly drifting over her as she nervously smoothed her hands over my shirt she was wearing—one I’d helped her into just before she’d crashed last night. She wasn’t drowning in it or anything, but it fell just right to give the illusion she wasn’t wearing anything underneath. Not that the stretchy shorts she had on covered much of anything other than her ass...but she was dressed. She was in my shirt. And with her hair a fucking mess and her lips even poutier than usual due to sleep, I wasn’t sure she’d ever been more beautiful than at that moment.
By the time my stare locked on hers again, a soft blush was filling her cheeks and she was fighting a smile.
“Don’t,” I pleaded softly, then reached for the door handle.
“Okay,” she said just as softly, that smile breaking free as she passed me on her way into the hall.
“There’s this thing we do—my family,” I added as we walked. “Maverick and I started it after joining them, and it’s continued ever since. I mean, it changed a little when everyone started having kids, but it’s generally the same. And it’s usually at our main house, but...” I worked my jaw a few times, still struggling to come to terms with everything that happened in the past week. Everything we lost.
Death was a part of this life. I’d known that from the beginning.
Shit, death had even been a very real part of our lives before Maverick and I were brought into the mafia. It’s why Maverick asked if I was alive before every battle we went into. He wanted to give me that second of pause to feel the oxygen going in and out of my lungs and to remember who I was. He wanted me to do everything to ensure I came out on the other side the same.
But Dare had given Maverick and me a home when the rest of the world had abandoned us. The Borello house had been the place we’d hidden out, living with Sofia, for so long before we’d felt confident enough to start going out in public again.
She’d become a second mom to us. She’d been a mom to all of us.
To have our mother figure and that haven—that symbol of our second chance at life—taken away in one fell swoop? To lose Jess right after? It hit so damn hard.
“Anyway,” I went on, clearing my throat as I did. “I was so fucking restless waiting for any word from Autumn or the orders from Dare that we could finally go get you that I nearly left a dozen times anyway. But I knew I’d fuck things up even more, so I focused all my energy into creating the room so it would be ready for when I got you back. Because I was getting you back.”
“Creating what room?”
