Chapter 11
Serenity
The next week blurred into itself with days filled with keeping Mattie caught up on his schoolwork, teaching him new things, and making sure he didn’t feel isolated even though we were quite literally isolated.
Between meals and playtime, and security checks that happened just out of sight, Mattie adapted faster than I expected.
It kind of broke my heart the way he so easily adapted without any pushback.
What had his life been like before this move for him to go with it this way?
I wondered if Enzo had grown up the same way, knowing danger constantly lurked all around him but never knowing why. Kids were like that, flexible and present, able to get lost in make-believe when reality pressed too hard.
The longer we stayed inside the house or stuck close to the property, the more Mattie and I found fun making a cardboard box into a spaceship, sword fighting with found tree limbs, and turning the backyard into an alien planet.
It was fun, even for me. Perhaps more so because I understood the danger very well.
He wasn’t just resilient; Mattie was also bright and charming.
He was so curious, so earnest in his quest for knowledge.
And unlike a lot of boys his age, he had no problems asking questions about anything he didn’t understand.
Sometimes I caught myself watching him when he was busy doing something else, my chest tightening with that longing I’d given up on ages ago. It surprised me.
I’d buried that ache years ago, back when Enzo’s desertion made me question whether or not I was worthy of love.
I spent years trying to survive that heartache, and when I did, I told myself love wasn’t worth the risk, which meant having a family was risky as hell.
It felt too risky and too foolish to even try.
But every single smile from Mattie warmed me in a way I wasn’t prepared for.
I often warned my girls about the importance of keeping some distance between them and their charges.
Getting attached was inevitable, but maintaining a solid boundary could make it hurt less.
That’s what I told them, yet here I was, feeling that wall crumble around me.
And in those quieter moments, I understood that instinct to protect better than ever. He wasn’t mine to protect, but now I understood Enzo, which only made me admire him more for doing what needed to be done, all just to keep Mattie safe.
Those feelings were damned inconvenient.
And dangerous.
“And what are we doing here?” Enzo’s deep voice was tinged with amusement as it sliced through my thoughts.
His tone was low and curious, and when I looked up, I regretted it instantly because he looked too damn good in his soft cotton t-shirt that hugged his biceps and sometimes pressed against the ridges of his abs.
His hair was slightly tousled, which told me his day wasn’t going as well as he hoped.
God, he looked so much like the man who’d show up at my apartment with a crooked smile and a paper bag full of groceries. The one who walked away.
I wasn’t sure if I preferred the expensive suits that at least served as a reminder that he wasn’t mine anymore or the jeans that hugged his thighs, hung low on his hips, and made me want to reach out and see if they were as soft as they looked.
It was unfair, and I tore my gaze away just as Mattie launched into a detailed explanation of what we were doing.
With his little hands holding his chin, he grinned.
“I said I don’t like apples,” he said seriously.
“But she said I couldn’t possibly dislike all apples, so now we’re taste-testing them.
” He stumbled over the last few words, flashing a proud smile when he got it right. Mostly.
“Interesting,” Enzo responded, his arms folded, his smile holding back a grin.
Mattie nodded his agreement as he gestured proudly to the kitchen island where eight small plates were lined up in a neat row, each plate containing four apple wedges.
“Want to test them with us? This is a fun test, and there’s no way to fail.
” His gaze flicked to me first for confirmation, and when I nodded, his smile brightened and his eyes turned expectantly back to Enzo.
“May I?” Those two words left Enzo’s mouth in a deep and rich honeyed tone that would’ve made me roll my eyes if it had been anyone else.
“They are your apples,” I replied, keeping my gaze fixed on the apple lineup instead of his too-handsome face.
Of course, he took the seat right beside me.
The chair scraped softly against the floor, and his arm brushed mine gently and accidentally.
My body reacted before my mind could catch up.
My muscles tensed and my breath hitched as I pushed to my feet quicker than I’d ever done before.
“Who wants something to drink?” I asked, too quickly.
My chest heaved, but I smiled harder as if that could make my behavior seem normal.
They both answered at once.
I walked away on shaky legs, grabbing three glasses and the carafe of juice from the fridge.
I finally caught my breath, took one more deep breath for good measure, and brought the drinks back to the table.
Mattie could hardly wait until the glass was set in front of him before he grabbed it and gulped down half the glass. “Slow down, tiger.”
He giggled, and that sound wrapped around my heart even tighter.
When I handed Enzo his glass, his fingers brushed mine. No, they didn’t just brush. They lingered. It was brief as hell, but my pulse spiked anyway.
His gaze met mine, steady and unreadable, and I focused very deliberately on not reacting. I paid attention to the sound of my inhales and exhales, focused on the rise and fall of my chest, the expansion of my nostrils—on any and everything that wasn’t Enzo.
It’s not him, I convinced myself. It’s the familiarity.
My breath shook, and then I gave myself an internal lecture.
This was exactly why I hadn’t wanted to take this fucking job.
Sure, years had passed, but it turns out there weren’t enough fucking years in existence to scrub away the effect Enzo DeRossi had on me.
Add in the day-in-and-day-out proximity of seeing him, and it was just a short little hop to blurred lines and an even shorter one right back to heartbreak.
I’d had my fill of that.
Once was enough.
I sat back down only when my body stopped buzzing, and even then, I focused on those apple wedges like they held the secrets to the universe.
Mattie sat tall in his chair, taking the task incredibly seriously. He bit into one wedge at a time, rating them with exaggerated expressions. “That one’s too sour,” he said of the Granny Smith.
Enzo agreed.
“I like them, and they go really well in pies.”
That perked Mattie right up. “Can we make a pie with them, Ren?”
“Maybe,” I answered before tapping my finger in front of the next plate.
“Super crunchy,” he said of the perfect red Braeburn. His eyes widened at the Ambrosia. “Tastes like candy.” And the Gala made him laugh. “It tastes like the color yellow.”
Enzo laughed. The sound was deep and completely unguarded. I really hated that the sound still did things to my body that nobody had been able to do with a touch. “I have my favorite,” he grinned at Mattie. “What’s yours?”
Mattie chewed his bottom lip thoughtfully. “This one,” he said, picking up another Gala wedge and popping it into his mouth. “I still don’t like apples, but I like this apple.”
That was something close to progress, I supposed.
The day passed easily after that. Lessons finished early. We spent time outside; the afternoon was warm and deceptively peaceful. Security remained invisible but always, constantly present—a quiet reminder that this calm had limits.
By evening, Mattie was yawning through dinner, and when bedtime rolled around, I leaned against his headboard with my legs crossed at the ankles and read his favorite bedtime story while he curled against me with Leo tucked under his arm.
Safe and sound. Before the second chapter began, he was fast asleep, his breaths deep and even, a small smile curving his lips.
I let my gaze linger on the rise and fall of his chest, the comfort and peace he exhibited even in sleep. There it goes again, I said to myself as that protective instinct flared up, sharp and slightly less surprising than the last time.
As I left Mattie’s room, my gaze landed on Enzo’s. He leaned against the doorway with his arms crossed, his expression softer than I’d seen on him except where Mattie was concerned. He said nothing, and neither did I.
What was there to say?
Instead, I retreated to my room, closed the door, and leaned my forehead against it for a long moment.
Boundaries, I reminded myself. You are allowed to have boundaries, Serenity.
I needed to turn that reminder into a mantra and repeat it every time thoughts of Enzo and more rose up in my mind. Or worse, my heart.
That’s what I told myself, but later, when I found myself in bed and unable to sleep, where did my thoughts go? Enzo, that’s where. In the quiet of the house with nature buzzing outside my window, I stared at the ceiling as my thoughts continued to betray me.
Enzo’s laugh. The warmth of his shoulder when he sat too close. The way my body lit up when his fingers brushed mine.
I rolled onto my side, irritation simmering beneath the awareness.
Stop it.
My body, however, had other ideas. Memory and muscle conspired in ways that felt unjust. I closed my eyes and tried to breathe through it, tried to redirect my thoughts to something else. To anything else.
Images intruded on a loop. Enzo as I remembered him: shirtless, with dark eyes that always saw too much of me and a thrilling smile.
Enzo with tears in his eyes the first time he told me he loved me.
The hunger that always burned dark in his eyes and flushed his skin when he wanted me.
The echo of old desires stirred, persistent yet unwelcome.
I shifted, something restless and uncomfortable stirring just beneath the surface.
My hand slipped under the blankets and into my panties, where I was soaked and swollen from just thinking about him.
My back arched as my fingers began to move against my slick clit before diving deep.
Enzo was right there, hovering over me with a sexy, teasing smile.
“You come when I tell you to,” he commanded.
I smiled, arching into my touch as he talked dirty to me, reminding me how much he loved it when thoughts of him soaked my panties. I was so close that every muscle strained toward pleasure, reaching for that elusive orgasm.
A low, mechanical hum tore through the night air, and it wasn’t my vibrator, which still rested inside my suitcase. My eyes flew open and I sat up straight, heart pounding as I glanced around my dark room.
The only thing I knew for sure was that the sound didn’t come from inside the bedroom. I got out of bed and tiptoed to the window, where moonlight had washed the grounds in a soft, silver light. I squinted to bring the faintest details into focus across the expansive lawn.
The hum was still there, and it was mechanical, not organic.
Every single nerve within me snapped to attention, and I looked closer, desperate to find the source of the hum before I overreacted.
Before I went someplace I shouldn’t.