Chapter 43
Chapter Forty-Three
Apollo
It’s two whole days before Rayna and I come down from our sex-induced haze.
I’ve come inside of her too many times to count, so many times that my balls are sore, and she’s walking like she’s been horseback riding all weekend.
She’s tired too, like she can’t help but sleep in and crave a nap.
I don’t blame her, I’ve been putting her through it.
She won’t be getting a break any time soon either.
Though our fuckfest has come to an end, our next project is going to occupy us thoroughly.
It’s time to get working on our house. Breaking ground started right after our wedding, and now that the foundation is beginning to take shape, there’s a million things to do and ideas to approve.
Rayna took some time to settle in after we returned from the hotel, catching up with Yordan, Jade, and Ana. But once she’s finished, I take her on a short walk out back to show her the progress that’s been made.
“Holy, wow.” I watch as she gapes at the construction before us, jaw dropping open. “I didn’t expect them to get this much done in two days. How many people are working on this?”
“Armani has the numbers,” I respond, shrugging. “I assume enough to have it done in the eight weeks they projected.”
“Two months?” Rayna sputters, her green eyes flaring wide. “They’re getting a six-bedroom, three-bathroom, mini-mansion built in two months?”
I’m starting to find it amusing when she doubts me, rather than irritating. I think it’s difficult for her words to put me in a grumpy mood when she looks so fucking pretty while she speaks.
“Construction is quite swift when you have unlimited funds and no hold ups with permits. They’ll be working in shifts, day and night, to get things done properly but quickly.
Furnishing will probably take a bit longer after, but with Armani at your beck and call, I’m sure it won’t be too much of a bother. ”
“Even as the winter months set in?”
“These are blue collar men from Philly, the cold won’t stop them.”
She huffs, rolling her eyes. “And the snow?”
“Easily removable,” I say, waving her off. “The shell will be done before we get any ice or snow, and having the roof up will make it a non issue.”
“You’re so extra,” my wife declares, hands on her hips.
“But you’re pleased, aren’t you?”
Smothering a smile, she can’t hide the flush in her cheeks. “I won’t pretend having a house of our own isn’t appealing. The family home is nice, but it’s crowded and chaotic and I miss having my own kitchen. Martha dominates this one, and I can’t even be mad at it. She’s a culinary goddess.”
“Mhmm,” I hum in agreement. “And the faster building is done, the faster you can have that new stove you picked out.”
We’ve been slowly discussing things that we want in the new house since we signed our contract.
Armani has given her countless catalogues to comb through and decide what she likes.
And of course, almost everything that she’s found the most appealing has been for the kitchen.
She wants to be able to make her pastries in peace while also keeping it functional for a family.
“Ugh, don’t remind me,” she whines. “I dream about that thing, I can’t believe you bought it with that price tag.”
“You love it.”
“So much,” she emphasizes.
A moment of tender silence passes between us. And I ruin it.
“Anything else you want to profess fondness for?”
She stiffens by my side, freezing up like a deer in headlights. “Ummm, the bathtub? Or the heated floors?”
Disappointment hits me like a punch to the gut, but I ignore the sting. I don’t know why I expected anything else.
“Rayna!” Yordan calls out from the main house’s backyard. “Dinner is ready, Martha made lobster!”
I need to speak with him about his uncanny ability to break up a private moment. It’s only beneficial to me when he isn’t cutting into my time.
“Right,” Rayna says, clearing her throat. “We should probably head back.”
“Should we?”
Her throat bobs and she bites her lip. “You’re not hungry?”
“My appetite isn’t currently for food.”
“Come on,” Yordan calls out again. “Your plate will get cold!”
“We’re coming!” she shouts back. Rubbing the back of her neck, looks up at me. “Is there something else you wanted to say?”
Not until I know you want to hear it.
“No,” I lie smoothly. “Let’s go before he comes over to drag us in.”
Dinner drags on for over an hour, with more conversations being had than lobsters eaten.
It’s maddening to be impatient when I have to smother it.
The last thing I need is for my father to ask questions if he picks up on my mood.
I’m meant to be in my post honeymoon glow, so God knows he’ll be suspicious if I’m snarky and trying to rush through the meal.
But as soon as everyone is done eating, he’s gone and I no longer have to conceal my eagerness to leave. I pull Yordan aside without a word, practically shoving him upstairs and into my office. We need to talk now, and without prying eyes or ears.
“Whoa, where’s the fire?” he bristles, stumbling into the chair next to my desk. “Are you good?”
I ignore his question entirely. “Tell me how to make your sister like me.”
“What?” Yordan gapes, shaking his head like he must have misheard me.
“Rayna,” I emphasize. “Tell me how to make her like me.”
“She does like you,” he replies, confused. “Dude, she married you.”
“You know what I mean,” I grumble, dropping into my seat across from him. “She tolerates me. Tell me how to make her love me.”
His brows jump up toward his hairline. “Do you love her?”
“I’m asking the questions here,” I warn. “And I’m growing impatient. Tell me what I need to know. She cares for me more than she’ll admit, but I need to do something to make it undeniable.”
Chuckling in disbelief, Yordan shakes his head. “Why should I help you?”
I pause, looking at him. “Repeat that.”
He holds up his hands, appearing far too smug in his mock defense. “You’re the one who told me never to do anything without incentive.”
“Is wanting your sister and your mentor to exist in a happy marriage not enough motivation for you?” I challenge, crossing my arms.
“I could be motivated further,” he replies, lips pursing playfully.
“Has everything I’ve given you not made me worthy of a favor?”
“You said that you were taking care of us without cost,” he replies slyly. “You wouldn’t be insinuating that was a lie, would you?”
Oh, this little shit…
I can’t tell if I’m pissed off or proud.
“You’ve become too bold, Yordan.”
He grins, taking it like a compliment. “Hey, you created this monster.”
Releasing a sigh, I can’t even be mad at the kid. “What do you want?”
“I want to go out, without Rayna tracking my every move.”
His answer is too quick, meaning he’s been thinking about it before today. Rayna doesn’t exactly track Yordan with a GPS, but she is always informed of his whereabouts.
I contemplate it and ask, “Do I even want to know why?”
“I’m seventeen, Apollo,” he replies evenly. “Rayna may always see me as her baby brother, but a man has needs.”
Jesus Christ.
That is not what I was expecting him to say.
“You’re sexually active?”
“Sexually active? What are you, my doctor?” He laughs, shaking his head. “I’ll repeat: I’m seventeen.”
He’s killed people, and he’s a made man now. I shouldn’t be surprised by his admission, but for some reason I am.
“Has Rayna had the talk with you?”
“I take it back,” he grimaces, pulling a face. “I’ll tell you how to win her over if we don’t have to have this conversation.”
“Deal,” I say immediately. “But you better wrap it up, every time. If you knock someone up before I’ve finished training you, I’ll put you in the ring with Armani and let him kick your ass. Rayna will probably take a turn too.”
He huffs. “I know about condoms, Apollo. I’ve been using them for years.”
“Years?” I groan. “Fuck, I don’t want to know.”
“Please,” he scoffs. “You have eight brothers who all grew up in this world with you. I can’t believe you find this shocking.”
“You’re more like my son than my brother, Yordan. I honestly forgot that you have hormones and emotions outside of angst and happiness.”
“You think of me like a son?” His tone goes from jovial to vulnerable in a second flat. There’s a hopefulness in his eyes that makes my heart fucking ache.
“Of course I do,” I say genuinely. “Mentoring you has been one of the most rewarding things I’ve ever done. I’m very proud of you.”
“Oh fuck,” he breathes, digesting my declaration. “Shit, how do you say things like that without getting choked up? That made me emotional as hell, goddamnit.”
He’s trying so hard to keep his face clear of reaction cues, and he’s failing miserably.
“You’re allowed to show emotion, Yordan,” I tell him gently.
“I’ve been trained to hide mine as the future Capo, but they still exist. You’re allowed to cry, from happiness or otherwise. I won’t judge you for it.”
“Oh, Jesus,” he sniffs. “There you go again. My dad would have never said something like that to me before. Made men aren’t supposed to cry.”
“Made men watch their friends die,” I start, trying to reassure him.
“They got shot, or stabbed, or tortured, or a million other things. Crying is inevitable for everyone. Even I’ve done it.
Cassio lost his first wife and his newborn son, you don’t think he cried?
Armani cried when he tore his ACL as a teen, and Matteo cried when he found out all of the bad things that happened to Jade. ”
“Well, when you put it like that.” He clears his throat, still trying to fight the emotion. “I think I have an idea, actually. Something you could do for Rayna to make her open up.”
I don’t care that he’s changing the topic back, I’m desperate for his advice. I need something to make her recognize what’s happening between us. Something to show her that we’ve grown past a marriage deal and reluctant friendship.
“Do go on,” I encourage, greedy for information.
“I’ll let you in on a little secret,” Yordan says, grinning.
“Rayna loves cats. Kittens especially, but cats in general too. Older ones, younger ones, fluffy ones, feral ones…She’s wanted one of her own since she was a kid.
” He sighs sadly. “She’s never allowed herself to adopt one because she didn’t want to risk it being hurt by all of the awful fucking people around us.
But yeah, get her a cat or two, and she’ll probably love you forever. ”
Sweet fucking irony.
“Are you seriously telling me that I’ve been calling her micina for months as a cheeky little jab at her being like a feral cat, and that’s what she wants more than anything? A fucking micina of her own?”
“Well, that’s either ironic or destiny,” Yordan says, amused. “But yeah, a cat or two would probably go a long way in winning her over. I don’t think you need to be too worried though, she likes you enough to have let you marry her. She’s planning to give you a kid, man.”
“Given that you’ve just told me that you’re a sexually active teen, I’m sure you know that there’s a difference between physical and emotional intimacy. Rayna is still guarded when it comes to opening up to me. She’d rather be naked in front of me than tell me how she feels.”
“Okay, ew,” he objects, face pulled into a dramatic grimace. “I did not need the gory details. Thank you for the nightmares.”
“That’s for attempting to extort me.”
“Lesson learned,” he grumbles. “But you’re still going to help me get some alone time soon, right? I was serious about that.”
“We’ll see.”
Fuck my life, I can’t tell him no.