18. Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Eighteen
Rory
As good as the food was, I couldn’t eat it. My stomach was full of knots at realising what I’d done, allowing her back with her grandfather.
You’d think I’d be concerned about what had happened this afternoon with Zeke, but that was the least of my worries, and if I were honest with myself, I’d enjoyed it. A little too much, actually.
“Tell me about Isadora. How long have you known her?” I trusted the welfare of my daughter with her while she was in Italy. It was only fair that Zeke told me about her. He had promised after all.
“Not long. I met her on my first trip to Italy when I took on the job.”
“So, how do you know you can trust her with my daughter’s safety?” I’d known her a long time, and although she was a good personal assistant, I wasn’t sure how that translated to being Carlotta’s protector.
“It’s a long story, Rory. I’m not sure…”
“She’s looking after my daughter. I think I deserve answers.”
Zeke’s cutlery landed with a clatter on his plate, his meal half eaten. He wiped his mouth on the napkin and threw that down too.
He looked pissed, but I didn’t give a shit. This was my daughter we were talking about.
“How much do you know about her?” He turned the question on me.
“I know she’s Ernesto’s assistant. She was a good friend to Mia when she was alive, and she’s always got on well with Carlotta. I’ve never had an issue with her.”
“She doesn’t just work for Ernesto. She has another employer, one far more dangerous than him.”
“What?” My heart stuttered. “I don’t understand. Is my daughter safe?”
“More than you know. It’s nothing bad. I promise you that. I actually know her other employer. He’s not a bad bloke, I guess.”
His apparent ambivalence didn’t give me confidence.
“We should get her out of there now.” I stood, ready to go find her and bring her home.
“We shouldn’t. Let her have her time with her grandfather. Trust me, Rory. I know you’re concerned, but you’ll worry yourself into an early grave. You think this is the end of the world, but Carlotta is protected.”
“Jesus, Zeke. This is my daughter’s life we’re toying with.” I buzzed with annoyance.
“I care for Carlotta and would never put her life in danger. I promise you that she is safe. Tomorrow, we’ll see for ourselves and put your mind at ease. Now, please eat. You need to be strong.” He picked up his fork and ate.
“I need to know I can trust you.”
“I give you my word. I will never let you or Carlotta down.”
Despite him not answering the questions I’d asked, only leaving me with more, I did trust him. I felt it in my bones, deep in my gut, and he’d promised we could go see her tomorrow.
With my appetite completely gone, I excused myself and went back to the bedroom. This wasn’t going well. Since Mia had died, my life had been one shitshow after another. Carlotta getting sick, Ernesto’s irrational behaviour, the move to London and her accident, and now this.
Life never went to plan. I understood that, but couldn’t I at least catch a break and have time to come to terms with everything.?
Not to mention this newly found attraction to men. Well, not men. Just Zeke. Since our first encounter, I’d looked at others but felt nothing of what I felt when I saw him. It had blindsided me, that was for sure.
From widower to almost lover. It had all happened so quickly, but at the same time, it had crept up on me. I’d gone from enjoying his company as a friend to sharing orgasms with him.
I’d never thought of myself with a man. Not that I was against it. I just never imagined it would happen to me. And honestly, I had no complaints.
He’d awoken something inside me, a yearning to do all the things. I wanted to experiment, and while we were here, it seemed like the perfect time to do that.
Of course Carlotta was important, and I’d do everything in my power to ensure she was safe and well, but there’d be times it’d be Zeke and me. How would that play out?
What was it about him that made me feel this way? Since the moment I’d seen him, however long ago it’d been, the compulsion to be near him had been mind-boggling. Was it fate or coincidence he’d been brought into our lives?
The questions were never-ending, and they didn’t stop there. I overthought every decision I’d made since leaving Italy earlier this year.
Were memories of Mia affecting any chance I had of happiness? But then would she want me to mope around for the rest of my life, never finding love again?
I knew in my heart that was not what she would have wanted because it was not what I would have wished for her. She’d have told me to throw caution to the wind, live the life we’d been denied.
And what of Carlotta? But then I remembered the picture she’d drawn and how she’d not batted an eyelid at the suggestion that Zeke and I could be something more.
My own insecurities, my fear, were holding me back. But fear of what? Letting myself love again?
So much to think about. It was overwhelming.
I lay on the bed, my head buried in the pillows, his scent all over them.
Confusion filled my head.
“I know it’s all been a bit much for you lately.” Zeke’s words startled me. I’d not heard him approach.
“You could say that. Since Mia died, it’s been a whirlwind, and I’ll admit I don’t know what I’m doing half the time.”
“You’re doing the best you can. It’s all you can do. Carlotta is well cared for. She loves you. You have to be content with that.”
“I feel like I’ve let her down. I moved to London because I thought it was the right thing to do. What if it wasn’t? What if I should have stayed here in Italy? She would never have been injured. She’d have been safe.”
The bed dipped as he sat next to me and took my hand. I let him.
“It was the right thing to do. Trust that the decision was the right one. Ernesto would have meddled in everything you did. He’d undermine you and would raise Carlotta how he wanted to, not how you and Mia had planned to. Never doubt your decision.”
He was right. Mia would have hated it if we’d stayed put when our plan all along had been to move away from him. To make a life for ourselves without his interference.
“So what’s next? What do we do? I’m tired of thinking.”
“Then don’t think. As for what’s next, we’ll go see what’s happening tomorrow. I still think it’s best we stay out of sight. How would Carlotta react if she thought you didn’t trust her?”
“It’s not her I don’t trust. It’s that bastard.”
“I know. I don’t trust him either, but with all of us watching her, we can keep her safe. Now, are you going to come and finish your dinner? I can warm it through in the microwave.”
Surprising both him and me, I brought his hand to my lips and kissed it. “Let’s go finish dinner.”
I slipped on a shirt and joined him at the table. The food was good, and once I started eating, I finished it in record time.
“Tell me about your family.” It was only fair. He knew all about mine.
“Not much to tell. I have a brother, Mal. He has a husband, Jason, and they live on the south coast. My parents don’t live close. I see them occasionally. Mal and I share a house and a dog, and we have a housekeeper called Mrs Gold.”
“Is that it? What do your parents do? I know Mal runs a funeral parlour.”
“They’re retired and travel a lot.”
Was he being vague on purpose?
“What about partners? Married? Engaged?”
“Yes, I’ve had partners, but no one important. Never been married or engaged. I used to think that wasn’t me, but the older I get, the more I’m thinking I should settle down. Some things have changed lately.”
What did that mean? But before I could comment further, he spoke again.
“It’s not what you think. I’m not cheating on anyone. I just see Mal and Jason and what they have. It’s… nice.”
Despite my earlier nap, I yawned. Something to do with the fresh air, good food, and even better wine.
“Sorry. You’re not boring me. I’m just tired.”
“Then get some sleep, and please stop worrying. I’ll see you in the morning.”
I stood. “I wouldn’t mind if you joined me.”
I said no more and went to the bathroom. I peed, washed my face and hands, brushed my teeth, and got ready for bed. Would he join me?
He clattered about in the kitchen, and I waited. When he didn’t appear after fifteen minutes, I turned onto my side. I guess I was sleeping alone.
A rustle behind me woke me, and a muscular arm encircled my waist. “Hmm, you’re all warm.”
I smiled to myself and nestled into his front. Any indecision I’d had was wiped out, and I drifted off to sleep, safe in his arms.
I stretched out on the bed, my legs getting tangled in the sheets. Not exhausted as was usual, I felt rested for a change. Muted sunlight filtered through the sheer curtains. It was morning, but how early I wasn’t sure.
The bed dipped, and I froze, not used to having someone in my bed. Images of yesterday flooded my mind. Zeke kneeling, straddling me, his cock mere inches from my face. I’d never seen a dick so big. Not that I’d tell him, mind. He had an ego big enough for both of us.
A heavy arm draped over my chest stopped me from moving.
“Where you going?” a muffled voice asked from beneath the sheet.
“Nowhere. I just woke up. It’s early, though, I think.” I rubbed my eyes and yawned.
“Stay.” I had no problem with that and settled in next to Zeke. How on earth had I got here?
“I can hear you thinking from here. What is it?”
“This and that. Carlotta, you, then you again. What have you done to me?”
“Is this a bad thing?” I had his full attention now, and he sat up next to me, the sheet falling from his body, exposing his taut muscles.
“No. I’m…what I’m trying to say… Fuck. I’m messing this up. This isn’t a bad thing at all. It was unexpected, shall we say? I’d never once seen myself lying in bed next to a man. Other than the best man on my stag do. That’s a whole other story.”
“So, you’re not going to kick me out?” A sleepy Zeke was a sexy-looking Zeke. I’d be a fool to kick him out of bed.
“I don’t regret a moment of what happened yesterday. I enjoyed it and wouldn’t say no to a repeat performance.”
“I can get behind that, but first I need to pee.”
He hopped out of bed and strolled into the en suite bathroom. I admired his body, the way he moved, like a panther, supple and fit. So very fit.
I’d never looked at another guy the way I looked at him. Long, muscular legs, a tight arse, broad shoulders that tapered to a narrow waist. And veins. Jesus Christ, the veins on him. Who thought they’d be such a turn-on?
We had another five days before we returned to London, and it was either going to be the best decision or the worst mistake of my life.
I checked my phone. Six a.m. Too early for breakfast but never too early for coffee.
But before I could move, the door to the en suite opened. I gasped, feeling sure my tongue was hanging out.
Fuck, he looked good. My eyes were automatically drawn to his half-hard cock. Even semi-erect, it was bigger than most.
“How the fuck does that fit in the tight leather trousers you wear?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” His trademark smirk made an appearance.
“Actually, I would.” The longer I gazed at his cock, the harder it became. I gulped, and my arse clenched.
“Well, normally, it’s not hard when I get dressed. I think it likes you.”
“Since when did it have a mind of its own?” I snorted.
“Okay, I’ll rephrase that. I like you, and this”—he gave it a languid stroke—“this is the proof.”
“You’ll poke someone’s eye out with that if you’re not careful.” How on earth did he manage with one that size?
He threw his head back and laughed. “Not the first time I’ve heard that.”
“It’s impressive. I’ll give you that.”
“I never do things by halves.” By now, he’d pulled on a pair of shorts, barely concealing the hard-on he was sporting.
In a way, I was grateful, but I was still a little unsure about what we’d done yesterday. Not that I’d tell him that, and it definitely didn’t mean I didn’t want to do it again, especially with him.
“Coffee?” Without waiting for an answer, he left the bedroom and me alone with my thoughts of the day ahead.
It would be eventful, one way or the other.