Chapter Twenty-Two
Pacino
Phoebe’s confession still buzzes within me, and I bounce between sympathy and anger. I want to hurt someone. Get justice for my girl. Do something to make it right.
But it’s not exactly something I can do when the asshole’s already dead.
With each passing day, Phoebe seems lighter. Brighter. She’s almost back to her old self, and I have to admit how relieved I am. I was scared she wasn’t going to pull herself from the darkness.
And having me take her in the dark alley beside the Seven Crows was fucking amazing. Not to mention what we did when we got home.
My girl seems mostly back, and I couldn’t ask for more.
“The guys did a good job fixing everything,” Phoebe says, looking around the bakery.
Even though I told her we could figure out something to give her some more time off, she insisted on getting back to work. And watching her float around reinforces how much she needs this.
Watching her work is hypnotizing. Being in her element has her shining even brighter, and it’s like watching someone dancing to music no one else can hear. But you know it’s a beautiful melody.
“They felt really bad about how everything happened,” I say, pulling her against me. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“I’m fine,” she says, smiling up at me. “You were right, you know. Telling you made it easier.”
I kiss her, cupping the back of her head as she melts into my chest. “You can tell me anything, Yellow Crayon. No matter how dark. I live in the dark.”
“See, I don’t think you do,” she says, resting her cheek against my chest as her arms snake around my waist. “I think you want to believe you do—and you used to—but you aren’t as much in the shadows as you think. Not anymore.”
“Because of you,” I whisper.
Last night, we had sex three times. This morning, we had lazy sex in bed and then moved to the shower for a second round. And I’m beyond ready for a third already.
The things this woman does to me. It’s no wonder I’m in love, and I just need to find the right time to tell her. Something in the back of my mind tells me to wait until I know the moment is here, and I decide to listen to it.
“You know what I would love to do,” I murmur into her ear.
“What’s that?”
“Taste my favorite dessert right here on this prep table.”
Bringing my hand between us, I slip it beneath her waistband and into her panties. I twist her clit between my fingers, and she gasps and braces herself on my biceps.
“Tucker,” she half scolds, half moans.
Biting my lower lip, I stare into her eyes as I slide further down and thrust two fingers into her while grinding my palm against her sensitive nub. She whimpers, her chest heaving as I quickly work her over.
I look over her shoulder at the monitor on her desk and smirk watching her from various camera angles while bringing her to climax. Her head falls back, and I kiss her neck as she cries out, her body shaking against me.
“Tucker!”
Her breathing returns to normal, and I pull my hand out, slipping my fingers into my mouth and sucking on them. Her jaw drops open, and I ache to have her on her knees just like this.
Pounding on the back door snaps her out of her trance, and we look at the monitor to see Sarah outside. I guess my hopes of having her on her knees while watching on the monitor is out of the question.
For now.
God, I’m fucking addicted.
“We never gave Sarah the lock code,” Phoebe says as she moves to the door. “But don’t think you’re not getting yours later when we’re alone.”
I opted for a keypad entry when we replaced her locks. Ryan won’t be sneaking in here ever again. Fucking asshole brother.
I always hated him. Even when I was seven, I begged my mom to drop him off at the fire station. I guess I knew from a young age how much of a problem he’d be.
“Oh, hey, Pacino,” Sarah says, giving me a knowing smirk as I pull Phoebe back against me. “Funny finding you here.”
“Is it though?” I ask her.
Sarah always rubs me the wrong way, but I think it was more because she and Scotty had something I used to. Now that I have it again, I find her more tolerable.
And she defended my girl. Against me, but she has loyalty. I can respect that.
“What’s your favorite dessert, Pacino?”
A smirk spreads across my face as I lick my fingers again, and Phoebe blushes as she pulls away. Yep, Phoebe’s my favorite dessert. So. Fucking. Sweet.
“Why do you ask?”
“Just wondering if we’ve ever made it,” Sarah says, her eyes widening. “Oh, gross! But also, get it, girl.”
Phoebe laughs uncomfortably and turns to me. “What is your favorite? Besides me, I mean. Are you a cake or cookies type of guy? Or maybe pie?”
“I was never a sweets guy until you. Mostly because you shoved those donuts down my throat when we first met.”
“She makes great donuts, doesn’t she?” Sarah joins in.
I laugh and nod. “Yeah, she does.”
“Don’t think you’re getting out of this,” Phoebe says.
Sighing, I think for a moment. “Um, when I was younger, my mom would make these carrot cake bars. I loved those. My brothers didn’t, so she made them for me.”
Mom. I haven’t thought about her in too long. Moving away from Vegas means I haven’t been out to visit her grave for longer than I’d like to admit. And I doubt Father keeps up with the maintenance.
“Walnuts or no?”
I frown and lean against the table. “Um, pretty sure no. God, it’s been so long that I don’t really remember. She died when I was twelve, and the last few years she was too sick to do much but rest in bed.”
Twelve. It’s the age both of us lost our moms. Another thing Phoebe and I share. We’re proof that going through traumatic situations can result in vastly different outcomes.
My phone chimes, and I see Capone’s name on the screen. “I gotta go to Velvet Desire, but Scotty will be posted up here to make sure nothing happens.”
“Do you think it will?” Sarah asks, her eyes wide.
She doesn’t know the full extent of what happened here, but she knows there was an attack on Phoebe that resulted in damage that needed repairs.
“No, my brother coming back here, especially with all of the businesses around you open, would be suicide. I have some of them keeping an eye on you, and they’ll let me know if anything suspicious happens.”
Looking relieved, Sarah sighs. “That’s good to hear.”
Phoebe doesn’t look relieved. In fact, she looks a bit sick.
“Hey, Sarah, can you give us a moment?”
Her eyes lock on Phoebe before she agrees, and then she slips out front. To do what, I have no idea, but it doesn’t really matter.
“It’s just business,” I say.
“Okay.”
Pulling her into my arms, I cup her face and tilt her head to look into my eyes. “That was Capone. We’re going together.”
Her jealousy is adorable. To have her worried about me going to see someone else makes me want to kiss her and never stop.
“He’s one of the others who gets to participate in the loophole to the rule, right?”
“Yeah.”
“You both could visit your… friend.”
Kissing the tip of her nose, I smirk. It’s kind of nice having her care this much about what I’m doing with other women. “I told Queenie I’m done with that. Capone might stay and get some affection from her, but I don’t need it. I need you.”
“But—”
“I don’t share. My girl or myself. I’m a really selfish man, Yellow Crayon. There’s only one woman I want.”
She smirks and points at her chest. “Me, right?”
Kissing her, I chuckle. “Only you. Most of our guys are on a run, so there’s only a handful of us left back. I made sure I’m one of them because this is my mess, and it’s my girl being threatened.”
“So why do you have to go to the brothel?”
“Because I know Ryan and my father. They won’t hesitate to target our businesses once I’ve stopped them getting to you. The tattoo parlor, pawn shop, and gym have people who can take care of themselves, but I cannot let our girls get hurt because of my family.”
Frowning, she nods. “I can’t really argue with that.”
“It’s not their fault I come from pure fucking evil.”
“How long will you be gone?”
“As long as I have to be, but I’ll make it as quick as possible. Then I plan to come back here and sit my ass in this store until you close up.”
“You don’t have to do that—”
“And then, when you’re done and Sarah’s gone, I plan to make that idea of eating my favorite dessert right here on this table a reality.”
A flush spreads across her cheeks and down her neck, and she bites her lower lip. Nodding, she smiles.
“Only you, Yellow Crayon,” I whisper after kissing her.
“Only me,” she says with a happy little sigh.
“Keep this door locked, okay? No risks.”
“So bossy.”
Winking, I open the door. “You have no idea.”
“I think I might.”
“I’ll be back as soon as I can. And don’t think you’re getting out of what I have planned.”
“Can’t wait.”
Me neither, baby. Me neither.