Three
THREE
Molly
“What does that mean, Enzo?” I said.
I tapped my foot on my steps, annoyed that I was so close to my apartment and away from Enzo, but he’d found yet another way to slow me down.
I couldn’t help but think of my poor grandmother.
How many times in my twenty-five years had I cornered her with one scheme or another?
The woman had always said I’d send her to an early grave.
A piece of shit drunk driver had beat me to it, but I’d given it a good shot.
Hopefully Enzo wouldn’t be as much trouble to me as I had been to her.
“It means exactly what I said,” he said in that stupid deep, gravelly voice of his.
I raised a hand, at my wit’s end.
Between Fabiano and this crap with Enzo and the long day’s work at the shelter, I’d had enough of everyone.
“You cut me off before, so let me say this again loud and clear: I belong to no one. I don’t ever want to see you again. Have the night you deserve,” I said.
I spun on my heel and stomped up the steps, proud of myself that I didn’t look back.
I stepped inside of my apartment and dead-bolted the door.
I was proud of myself when I ignored Enzo’s persistent knocking and Hope’s phone calls.
I was less proud of myself now, three days later.
Because instead of putting out of my head and not giving him another thought, I was seated in the nicest dining room I’d even been in, wearing a dress I couldn’t afford—and told myself I fucking hated—with Enzo’s hand protectively wrapped around mine like I belonged to him.
“You gotta try the cutlet, Molly. It’s fucking amazing,” Enzo said.
As he spoke, his breath brushed against my ear, and he stroked his lips across my cheek.
It wasn’t a kiss, exactly.
Just another one of those innocent touches he seemed so content to give.
Always “accidentally.”
It hadn’t escaped me that they’d increased in frequency, and I was sure they weren’t accidental, not when his touches lingered.
Not when I knew that he knew how I reacted.
I smiled brightly, noticing that he smiled back.
His eyes—the most enchanting shade of golden brown—sparkled with amusement.
I kept a smile on my face as I leaned over, pushing my lips to his ear.
“I hope you fucking choke on it,” I said softly, ending with a light laugh.
Enzo turned his head, brushing his lips against my ear.
“I have something for you to choke on instead,” he said.
I smiled tightly, trying to ignore the way my stomach flipped with desire at his words.
When I pulled away, I met the gaze of a woman I’d been introduced to earlier.
Enzo had told me she was his aunt, but I couldn’t for the life of me remember her name.
She was maybe seventy with thick, dark hair threaded through with gray.
Her eyes reminded me of Enzo, but they exuded a warmth that felt like home.
She was also apparently Enzo and I’s biggest fan.
“Oh, to be young and in love again,” she said.
“Mona, you’ll always be young,” Enzo said.
Mona.
That was her name.
I’d have to remember that, though I hoped this would be the last time we met.
No offense to her; she’d actually been great.
But after I put in this appearance, I would make sure Enzo was nothing but a distant memory.
I shifted in my seat, trying to ignore the way my heart clenched at that thought or at the fact that I knew Enzo wouldn’t disappear so easily.
He’d been ever-present for the last three days.
Waiting outside my door the morning after all that crap with Fabiano.
At the shelter.
Walking me home at night.
Some part of me had gotten used to him, annoying as he was.
“Always so charming, Enzo. Tell me, how did you meet the beautiful Molly?”
Enzo chuckled, and I couldn’t help looking at him.
He looked…happy. And if I wasn’t seeing things, his elderly aunt made him blush.
“You know how it is, Mona. I was out and about. Saw her. Had to have her.” As he spoke, he stroked his fingertips along my shoulder, the shoulder that was bare at his instance.
His fingertips burned my skin with silent, insistent promise.
He’d insisted I come to this dinner and he had the dress and shoes delivered.
I’d said nothing, but it wasn’t lost on me that everything fit perfectly and the deep green silk perfectly complemented my skin’s dark hues and the cut of the dress made my curves look amazing.
Of course the jerk had great taste.
The dress was perfect, and when he’d seen me in it, a slow, satisfied smile had lit his face.
I smiled, suddenly feeling mischievous.
“Oh, that’s not how I remember it at all.”
I batted my eyelashes and could have fist-pumped when Enzo gulped.
Mona laughed, then reached across the table to pat my hand.
“We can never listen to men on these things. You tell me the tale, bella .”
Fuck.
I glanced at Enzo and saw he was smiling now—no doubt at my own discomfort.
My plan had backfired.
But seeing that flicker of panic on his face had been worth it.
I looked at Mona. “I was in trouble, and Enzo helped me,” I said simply.
It wasn’t exactly a lie.
She nodded. “That sounds like my Enzo. A little rough around the edges, but such a sweet boy. Now that he’s settled down, he’ll be even better.”
I watched her eyes as they lingered on Enzo.
The idea of him being “settled” was almost laughable.
Nothing about the man was settled.
He looked dangerous, and not just in the obvious way—the “I could fuck you up and not break a sweat” kind of way.
That was a given.
No.
He was dangerous in ways I couldn’t really fathom.
He scared me.
Embarrassing to admit but true nonetheless.
I talked a big game.
Hope had told me he was someone I could trust. But when Enzo waited outside my door and then later, when he’d showed up at the shelter and told me I’d find “appropriate attire” inside the package he’d left—I hadn’t even considered defying him.
It had been far too easy for me to go with the flow, and that wasn’t me.
But somehow, bending to Enzo’s will didn’t feel like surrender.
It felt like relief.
Felt like exhaling for the first time in years.
Felt like something I wanted more of.
And that?
That was more terrifying than the Genovese, the Morettis, or anything else.
I blinked when Mona patted my hand.
“Molly, you are beautiful, and you make my Enzo happy. If he gives you trouble, call me. I’ll straighten him out,” she said.
“I will,” I said.
Mona nodded, looking satisfied.
And I somehow managed to make it through the rest of the meal.
“See? You had fun,” he said after dinner as we waited at the valet.
“I didn’t say all that. But what I did say was that I would take the train home. You don’t need to take me.”
Enzo grazed his lips along my temple.
“You did well. Mona looks soft but she’s a savage. And she has an impeccable bullshit detector.”
“What does that have to do with the train, Enzo?” I said.
“Molly, you know you’re not taking the fucking train. Anyway, you felt safe with them. You feel safe with me,” he said.
I huffed, but didn’t deny what he’d said.
Because it was true.
Enzo locked his eyes with mine, grazed his lips along my temple as he pulled me closer, his hand centered possessively at the small of my back.
“But we really need to sell this,” he said.
I noticed when his eyes shifted and I followed his gaze to where it landed.
It was Fabiano.
His eyes were on mine, but everything about his posture told me I was secondary.
He was watching Enzo.
Waiting.
Enzo huffed, then flipped Fabiano off.
Then he turned to look at me and leaned in.
His kiss started like a whisper.
A breath.
Turned into a wave.
The rest of the world fell away, and my brain couldn’t hold anything but the feeling of him.
There was no Fabiano.
No restaurant.
No Aunt Mona.
Only Enzo.
His lips, warm against mine.
Then his tongue as he claimed my mouth.
His scent as it filled my nostrils.
The perfection of his body against mine.
And all I could do was receive it.
He claimed my lips thoroughly, kissing me like I was his to devour.
It wasn’t the first time I’d been kissed, but it may as well have been.
His mouth was the perfect balance of rough and reverent.
It short-circuited my brain.
I needed him closer.
I wouldn’t dare say it out loud—but my body spoke for me.
I kissed him back.
Because I wanted to.
Because I was ready.
He broke the kiss and stared down at me with eyes so intense I shivered.
“You still want to ride the train home?” he whispered.
Instead of answering, I got in the car.
As I watched him walk around the car, trying to process the moment I realized something with undeniable clarity.
I was in over my head, way, way over my head. And I didn’t care.