8. Eva
8
EVA
R omeo knew exactly what he was doing, volunteering me to drive Liam around. He’d heard me complaining about Liam being here and doing nothing, just a lazy guest. It was just one way that I’d brainstormed to get the man away, but my cousin twisted it all. He’d tossed my complaint back in my face, implying that I hadn’t been doing anything lately. Suggesting that I chauffeur Liam was merely adding fuel to the fire, rubbing salt in the wound.
Ass.
That was the only reason I relented and agreed to spend time with the one man I’d rather avoid for the sake of my sanity. It was why, ten minutes later, I was buckled into my SUV while he rode next to me. I hated being a passenger princess. I loved the independence of driving. I wasn’t ever truly independent, always with guards nearby, but I preferred being behind the wheel myself.
“You didn’t have to take me,” Liam groused, staring out the window.
“I know I didn’t have to. No one makes me do anything I’d rather avoid.”
Shit. Fuck. I shouldn’t have said that.
“Really.” Liam faced me, deadpan. “Then I’ve been reading you wrong all along. It seemed to me that you’d rather walk over hot coals than have my company.”
“Just shut up.” I didn’t want him calling me out for avoiding him. I didn’t want him to point out that I’d run from him after that closet incident, either.
“Pull over. I’ll call an Uber or something.”
“No.” I pressed the locks to double-check they were on.
“Why? Why force yourself to put up with me?”
Because I can’t stop thinking about you!
“Why force me to put up with you, for that matter?” He shook his head. “I’m sure you’ve got better things to do than drive me around.”
I narrowed my eyes, keeping my focus on the road. “What the hell does that mean?”
“It means exactly what I said. Don’t put yourself out on my account. I’m sure you’ve got a busy day of acting like a spoiled brat.”
“Are you suggesting I don’t have a job? Nothing to do?” That really burned. If I hadn’t been brooding and moping about not having a purpose or something to concentrate on, his words would’ve gone in one ear and out the other. But I had been thinking about that, wishing I had a job to preoccupy myself.
“Don’t put words in my mouth.”
“Don’t try to insinuate and put words in my mouth, either.”
He scowled, confused with my comeback that didn’t really make sense. “The only thing I’d think about putting in your mouth is—” He caught himself, tilting his head to the side and squeezing his eyes shut. “No. I’m not going there. We’re not going there.”
My cheeks heated up. I felt the flush spreading over my face. As odd as it was to be blushing, I couldn’t get past the blatant appeal of what he’d stopped himself from finishing.
He wanted to cram his big cock into my mouth? To fuck me there?
Please. Fuck yes. Please.
“Why are you like this?” he asked, looking out the window again.
“Spoiled?” I huffed, needing this bitter bickering more than the lead-in to seductive thoughts like sucking on him. “I’m not spoiled.”
“Yeah. Sure. If you grew up in a home like that mansion, with multiple pools, staff, and no job, I fail to see how you escaped being spoiled.”
“I’m not,” I insisted. “It’s all part of the projection of power. The Constella Family is wealthy and influential, and with those conditions, we represent that status of life.”
“Fine. Whatever.” I waved it off. “I wouldn’t understand it. I grew up modestly. Like Tessa.”
“She never calls me spoiled.” I hated that his opinion of me mattered so much. I truly wasn’t, though. “I may wear designer and have professional stylists, but it’s because that’s the position I am in. I am expected to look the part of a Mafia princess?—”
He chuckled wryly. “Princess. Yeah, you act like one.”
“But the things and materials don’t matter.”
Looking me up and down, he studied me. “You’d be just as happy to be poor and without all the leisure?”
I sighed. With the right person, yes. “It’s never been an option. I was born into this life.”
“And it molded you into an icy bitch.”
At a red light, I glowered at him. “You’re an ass.”
He shrugged. “I’m just calling it like it is.” Shifting in his seat to face me, he crossed his arms and settled in to chat. “Does Tessa say you’re an icy bitch?”
“No.” But she did admit that I was a bratty diva once .
“Does Nina?”
“Not really.” But Uncle Dante called me out about not welcoming her at first.
“So it’s just me. I’m the lucky one to get the difficult version of you.”
“No. I—” I pressed my lips together and exhaled hard through my nose. “Maybe.”
He huffed. “Nice.”
“You inspire me to be combative.”
He shook his head. “No. It’s not just me. I overhear you arguing with everyone in that house.”
“I’m not a pushover.”
“Except in a closet. With me.”
Oh, damn you. I cleared my throat and refused to respond.
“You bicker with Romeo.”
“He’s more like a brother than a cousin. Siblings bicker.”
He smirked. “And Franco. I’ve caught you arguing with him.”
“Fine!” I flung my hand in the air. “I’m argumentative.”
“Why? Why do you ice everyone out?” When I didn’t reply, he added, “Why act like such a bitch to me but want to drive me around? Make up your mind, Eva. I’m not pursuing you. I’m not asking you for a damn thing.”
That’s the problem. He dismissed me. He was fine with cutting me out of his life while I needed more than a closet quickie. Liam Gray was simply too different, too far from what I was used to that I couldn’t be done with him yet.
“Because I’ve been raised that way.” I sighed. “I’ve only had Uncle Dante. He’s a tough man, and he’s raised me to be tough.” I also never had much of a maternal role model to soften me out. With Uncle Dante’s expectations, to raise me as a strong woman in the Mafia, I grew up knowing I’d need to be firm. And at times, that equaled being cold.
“Not that tough.” He almost smiled, looking back out the window. “He surprises me the most. Every morning, I see him in the kitchen making breakfast. I mean, the guy is loaded. He’s got chefs, maids, housekeepers. But he’s the one in there personally making his fiancée breakfast in bed.”
“That’s what impresses you the most about Uncle Dante?” I almost laughed. It was so simple.
“It’s what makes me think he’s more than a cold-blooded Mafia boss.”
I rolled my eyes. “He goes out of his way because he’s that obsessed with taking care of Nina. It’s all her doing.”
He furrowed his brow. “He worries that someone would poison her?”
“No!” Now I did laugh. We all trusted the staff on the properties we owned. They were like extensions of family. “He wants her to know that he cares. That if he’s bringing her breakfast in bed, that she can know he made it, thinking of her.”
“Huh.”
“Where to?” I asked, enjoying this chance to be with just him. To talk. I wanted him, but this was nice too.
He typed in an address on the navigation. “Target.”
“Why not have it delivered?”
He shrugged. “I’ve never shopped for this kind of stuff before. I figured it might make more sense to see it in person.” He glanced at me, brows raised again. “If you’re too busy, I’ll find another ride.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “Are you trying to get rid of me?”
He shook his head, but the slow, appreciative look he gave me suggested he’d rather do something else with me.
“I said I’d drive you. And I will. Not because I don’t have anything else to do.”
“Suit yourself. And I’m hardly in any position to judge you for being unemployed. I am too.”
“By choice?”
He shook his head. “No. I need to figure something out soon.” After he shifted in his seat, I realized he was uncomfortable. Not necessarily physically, but maybe with the idea of finding work. “Although your uncle wants me to work for him now.”
“So I’ve heard.” I knew he had to notice me glancing at him, but he didn’t take the bait and make eye contact before the light turned green. “Are you considering it?”
“I’m not crazy about the idea of being one of many working for another institution.” He shrugged. “I wanted out of the military to do something else for my life.”
“To march to the beat of your own drum? Something like that?”
“Yeah, I guess. I was just tired of the same old, tours one after the other. But that was before I found out about Olivia.”
I’d been dying to learn more about how he came to be a father. I hadn’t asked Tessa or anyone else out of the fear that I’d look too curious about Liam. “If you were overseas for so long, how…?” I shook my head.
“Olivia was the product of a one-night stand. Her mother was someone I met in a bar while I was serving. And she passed away from a drunk driving accident.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Me too. I wasn’t close. I don’t think she even gave me her last name when we hooked up. But she apparently knew who I was, enough that she had me listed as an emergency contact at the daycare she dropped Olivia off at.”
“Wow.” That seemed so impersonal.
“It was just a hookup.” He rubbed his face. “Cheryl, the daycare owner, contacted me and explained it all. According to her, Pamela thought I was a military man who wouldn’t have the time for a baby, and she’d rather raise her how she saw fit.”
“That’s still cruel not to inform you. She’s your child.”
He nodded. “I understand her perspective.”
“ Is she your child?” Olivia looked like him, but still, I had to wonder.
“Yes. Cheryl insisted on a paternity test when I showed up. She watched over Olivia until I came. It was either I man up and take my daughter or let her go through into the system, and I’d be damned if I did that to my flesh and blood. My grandparents stepped up to raise me when my parents bailed on me, and I couldn’t consider abandoning my kid, even if she was a complete surprise.”
Now it made sense, how overwhelmed Liam looked all the time. He’d had a lot put on him quickly and so unexpectedly.
Once we arrived at Target, we went through the list that I’d noted on my phone.
“How can she not have any toys?” I asked, trying to puzzle out what some of them did. All the labels were helpful, indicating what ages the items were intended for and what skills they helped to foster, like fine-motor movement or eye coordination.
“Cheryl said Pamela was a very strict vegan, ‘crunchy’, and eco-friendly parent. No plastic at all. No artificial anything, at all.” He shrugged, looking as lost as I felt at the array of toys and gadgets.
“So… what, wood blocks?” I picked a package up.
“I guess?” He grabbed a stuffed animal of a dog. “This can’t be so bad?” He peered at the label.
“Maybe next time, you should bring Olivia shopping and let her point at what she wants.”
He cringed. “Fuck.”
A parent pushing a shopping cart gasped and covered her toddler’s ears. “Mind your language!” she scolded him.
I covered my hand to block my gesture from the kid and flipped off the woman. “Mind your own business.”
Liam smirked and shook his head. “I’m assuming Olivia’s too young to repeat what I say.”
“Yet,” I added.
“Yeah. Yet. But that reminds me that I need a car seat thing. And a stroller. And…” He whooshed out a long breath. “This will take a while.”
I held my hand out. “Let me see that list.”
He gave me his phone and I skimmed the list. “I can help.”
His expression was unreadable, but I noted the hint of disbelief. “You? Because you’re an expert with thirteen-month-olds?”
“No.” I crossed my arms. “No more than you are. We can figure it out together.”
And so we did. We shopped and deciphered the best we could. He seemed quicker at understanding all the safety abbreviations and icons on the stroller, high chair, and other odds and ends, but he deferred to me about the color coordination and practicality of clothes and outfits.
For hours—most of the afternoon and into the evening—we teamed up against our cluelessness and tried to get all the basics for Olivia. As long as we didn’t talk about ourselves or get too far off on a tangent of why we wouldn’t budge on any one of our particular opinions, it wasn’t that hard to get along with him. To partner up. To while away the day.
“Damn. We missed dinner,” I said as we took all the purchases to the car after a couple of hours at another store.
He frowned, glancing around as we walked to the car. “Yeah. Sorry.”
I furrowed my brow. “Okay. That’s not the first time you’ve acted like this. What’s wrong?”
I’d noticed him getting tense and more alert when we went from one store to the next. I dismissed it as nothing more than being super aware of his surroundings, but I wasn’t imagining how much closer he stood to me now.
“I think…” He turned his head slightly to the left but his eyes tracked something to the right.
“Huh?” I looked forward, trying to understand what he could be looking at in the reflections of any of the car windows in this lot.
“I—” He growled, reacting too quickly to finish speaking. With a firm shove down, he covered me and forced me to duck under him.
I dropped beneath him and sucked in a breath to hold as his hard arm snaked around my waist.
“Stay down!” He rolled as he ordered it.
We slammed to the ground together, stopping the momentum of our roll against a parked car. With him shouting in my ear, it was harder to hear the shot from afar.
As I looked up, sheltered by his body over mine, I stared at the bullet hole in the window of the car.
The bullet that would’ve gone right through my head if he hadn’t pushed me to safety.