Chapter 21
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Deuce
I’ve brought dates around for special dinners or events, but I’ve never had all my friends over with a girlfriend by my side.
I probably should have before now if the warm feeling spreading in my chest is any indication.
Amidst the conversation and good-natured ribbing that always happens with this group, I find myself watching Valentina.
I know her body language better than anyone.
She started off her normal guarded self, but now she’s laughing so hard her eyes are doing that squinty thing.
She leans in close and says something to Mary London, which sets the girls off again.
She’s having fun.
And it doesn’t involve bloodshed.
It’s like she’s turned a corner. Discovered something new about herself. When Betsy hands her Harlow, she doesn’t freeze like a deer in headlights. She just tucks her into her chest and lets the little girl play with her hair.
“Okay, little lady, it’s time for bed,” Silas says to his daughter, standing and grabbing empty beer bottles to throw in the trash.
I stand too, taking the bottles and throwing them away in the kitchen. Guests don’t clean up on my watch. Harlow shrieks when Betsy tries to pull her out of Valentina’s arms, a clear sign the poor thing is overtired.
Mary London stands and yawns loudly, putting on a show for Harlow. “Goodness gracious, I’m so tired I’m fixin’ to fall asleep standing up! We need to get to bed so we get our beauty sleep, girls.”
Harlow calms just enough to wrinkle up her face. “Booty?”
Rhett grins down at Harlow. “That’s right. How do you think your auntie got so pretty? She gets a lot of good beauty sleep.”
Betsy and Silas shoot the couple a thankful glance as Harlow slides off Valentina’s lap and marches to the door.
We all say quick goodbyes with hugs and promises to get together soon.
Valentina and I watch them go from the open doorway, my arm slung around her shoulders like a real couple. Valentina sways.
I stare down at her, assessing. “How many beers did you have?”
She leans her head back on my arm. Her eyes are hooded, a sure sign she’s either drunk or finally relaxed. Can’t say that I’ve ever seen her relaxed, so maybe that’s what this is?
“A few. I’m just…”
I turn into her, keeping her leaning against me.
Her arms snake around my waist. Fireflies dance in the front yard and I should probably get this door closed or we’re going to have a mosquito problem inside the house.
I don’t do what I should, choosing instead to stare into the eyes of this extraordinary woman.
“You’re just what?” I ask softly.
Her smile amps up slowly, her thumb absently stroking across my back. “I had fun tonight.”
Now I’m grinning too. “Yeah? Made some true friends?”
Her smile dims a bit, and I want to kick myself for it. “Yeah, I think I did. But I’m also wondering if I’ve wasted my whole life by not doing it sooner.”
I move her inside the house and shut the door, threading my fingers through hers and tugging her back into the living room. We both have a beer we didn’t finish. She kicks off her heels and sits down. I sit right next to her on the couch, my arm around her and our beers in hand.
“If there’s one thing I’ve learned in life, you can’t sit here and judge who you were yesterday. You did the best you could with the information you had and the circumstances you were in. The mafia life just doesn’t lend itself to friendships.”
Valentina takes a long pull of beer, then holds the bottle in her lap and picks at the label.
“I guess I’m just questioning who I am now.
I retired from all that, but then lived in limbo ever since, never choosing anything different.
I went to my workouts, the shooting range, and hung out by myself.
I didn’t know what I was missing until I came here. ”
I nod, understanding completely, though my heart breaks for her.
“I know what you’re talking about. Thankfully, I had my father.
He always showed me a different path. Even from a young age, I knew there was a different way to live.
You didn’t have that. Bettina was all you had and that lifestyle was all you knew. ”
“It made me good at what I did,” Valentina says matter of fact. She’s not bragging. She was good at what she did. But it doesn’t sound like she was ever happy.
“Being good at something doesn’t automatically lead to happiness.”
Her nail picks harder at the label on the bottle. “I don’t know whether I was happy or not. I was just doing what was expected of me. I mean, what really makes a person happy?”
“A purpose bigger than them. A safe and loving home life. Friends. Family.” I shrug. “My father seems to think love is what makes a person happy. You ever been in love?”
Valentina stiffens. Even her fingers stop peeling that label. “This is probably the beer talking, but yes. I have.” She turns her head and holds my gaze. Always so brave, my Valentina. “Once. When I was seventeen and stupid.”
It hits me like the first humid day in spring. She’s referring to me. Has to be, right?
I let that information roll around in my brain for a few seconds of tense silence.
And then I pull her into me and kiss her.
She comes willingly, her lips moving under mine like she and I have always been planned in some cosmic way.
Like our feelings for each other at seventeen were always going to lead to this.
Like we’ve been living our lives apart, just waiting to be joined again, everything dull and gray until fate brought us back together.
We could choose to finally live in the chaotic crash of color.
“Come to bed with me,” I beg against her lips. “I want to try something I’ve never done before.”
Valentina pulls back and glares at me. “I’m not doing any weird shit tonight. I’m too tired and too buzzed. Plus you confiscated my knife.”
I’m grinning like a fool, putting our bottles of beer down on the coffee table and pulling her to her feet. “Trust me.”
Valentina sighs, like trusting me is the hardest thing she’s ever done. And that might be accurate. I know trust doesn’t come easy for her, but I also know that she and I can’t be anything more if we don’t have trust between us. I want more than anything for her to be able to truly trust me.
I walk us through the house, shutting off lights and locking doors, before I take her upstairs to my bedroom.
I get her standing by the bed, ripping my polo shirt over my head and tossing it to the ground.
My shoes and socks are next. I snap the belt when I get it off, which makes her eyes widen, but I toss it to the ground too.
Then I stand before her, feeling like I’m contemplating taking a leap off a tall building.
My hands skim up her arms before cupping her cheeks.
She’s so fucking pretty. Prettier than she was at seventeen when she turned heads everywhere she went.
“I, too, loved someone once and only once.”
Her eyes harden. I can see her actively working to build walls around her, so I amend my statement quickly.
“I was in love with you my entire teen years.”
Her gaze darts back and forth across my face, judging if I’m telling the truth.
I feel it when she accepts my words. Her whole body relaxes, as if in a sigh of relief.
She’s spent her whole life being on guard.
I want to take that responsibility from her and just let her choose to be soft if she wants.
She’s never been able to make that choice before.
“Make love to me, Valentina.”
Her hands come up to circle around my wrists and I think for a moment that she’s going to pull me off of her. Reject my plea. Choose to keep her guard up. Choose to remain hardened to everything life has to offer.
But then she pulls one hand away from her cheek and kisses my palm. I feel that kiss all the way to my toes. Not just in a sexual way. I feel her surrender to me. To an us. And I don’t take it lightly.
“I don’t know how.” Her hot breath fans my palm.
I move even closer, inhaling her scent. “I don’t either. We’ll learn together.”
She tilts her head and stares up at me. “We know how to hate-fuck really well.”
I’m hard as steel in these stupid khaki shorts. “Yes. Yes, we do. Now get undressed while I run you a bath.” I step back, forcing myself to release her.
She’s surprised, but lets go of me too. I walk to the bathroom, pausing to make sure she’s getting undressed. She waves the back of her fingers at me as if to say “hurry up.” It’s so Valentina to be sassy even while being vulnerable. It’s part of what I love about her.
I get the bathtub filling with hot water and dump in some bath salts I’ve had for ages.
Probably a gift from someone that I never used.
When she enters the bathroom, she’s entirely naked.
I finally get to see those breasts of hers without her trying to cover them up and I realize with a sharp inhale, they were worth the wait.
They’re bigger and bouncier than when she was a teen.
Maybe a C-cup, with dark tan nipples that are beaded already.
I go to her, unable to stay away, my hands immediately cupping her breasts.
“See?” I say in a husky voice. “This is why we need to learn how to make love. Twice we’ve fucked and I never got to see these beauties.”
She laughs softly, then pops open the button on my shorts. “I rode that dick twice and didn’t get to see the full package.”
I cough a bit as I choke. Shit, if she keeps talking like that, I might not make it through lovemaking. When hard and fast is all you know, slow and controlled seems impossible.
“Get in the damn bath, woman.”
She pulls away but her eyes are flashing with mischief. “Nuh-uh. I think that’s part of hate-fucking.”
I rub a hand across my forehead and try to focus. “You’re probably right. Sorry. Old habits die hard.”