Chapter 12 #3
‘You hit the jackpot, brother,’ Bishop added, reclining into the leather armchair.
A barrage of questions hit me from every angle.
I shut them down one by one; however, inside, my ego was riding high.
When she returned minutes later in oversized gray sweatpants and a plain white tee, her hair piled into a loose bun, my heart lurched.
The hell?
This unexpected reaction to her was happening more often now, every time I saw her.
At breakfast, when I picked her up at work, and even over dinner, I got gut hits I didn’t see coming with her.
I’d tried ignoring them, but shit was getting worse.
I had to admit to myself, Sofia was one hell of a stunning woman.
She appeared casual, comfortable, and so freakin’ alluring that my cock throbbed.
Damn.
In no time, Sofia had six hardened men taking orders from her.
She shut down the pizza delivery, marched us into the kitchen, and turned the island into an assembly line.
The heat in the room spiked as the aroma of searing beef, braised tomatoes, and garlic filled the air.
She whipped up an Italian feast from scratch: braciole simmered in thick ragù, crisp panzerotti, and golden polpette.
Angel was on onion duty, Bishop mashed garlic, and Levi stood over the hot skillet flipping meat.
Banter flew across the marble counter while the guys tried teaching her Australian slang over the sizzle of the pans.
‘You need to learn proper English, Sofia,’ Angel said, handing her a bowl of herbs. ‘When Jude acts like a chode, you tell him he’s being a bloody drongo.’
Sofia paused, her brow furrowing as she worked her mouth around the words. ‘A bloody dingo?’
The kitchen erupted into rough, booming laughter.
‘Close enough!’ Deacon growled, with a grin. ‘He acts like a wild animal half the time anyway.’
‘No, I mean drongo,’ Sofia corrected, a smile hitting her face as her eyes cut to mine. ‘Though dingo fits him when he hasn’t had his espresso.’
I huffed a quiet laugh, pulling a sip from my cold beer with my eyes locked onto her.
She moved through the chaos with total control, dodging stray napkins and ignoring the roar of the crowd from the flat-screen as the Titans fought for a first down.
She set out platters of meat, grilled polenta slices, garlic crostini, and bowls of her fiery Calabrian chili oil, feeding us like kings.
By the fourth quarter, with the Titans driving down the field on a late two-minute drill, the boys were dead set on her.
Sofia stepped into the pantry for extra napkins, and Angel dug his elbow into my ribs.
‘She’s ace, Jude. You let this one slip because of your stubborn ego, you’re the biggest fool in Tennessee.’
‘She’s a keeper, brother,’ Levi muttered, his gaze fixed on the game screen as the quarterback lined up under center. ‘She’s got class, real heart, and that laugh kills me.’
I kept my mouth shut, eyeing my unlikely wife as she stepped out of the pantry, chuckling at one of Reign’s jokes.
The ring on her finger caught the overhead light, and a sudden knot hardened in my gut.
I wanted her.
Yet Abby’s ghost still held a vice grip on my heart, leaving me torn between the safe comfort of my past and the dangerous, living fire right in front of me.
Once the game ended and the guys finally piled back into their trucks and rumbled away, Sofia began stacking the plates into the dishwasher.
I took one straight out of her hand, my calloused knuckles scraping hers.
‘You cooked. I handle the mess.’
She surrendered the dish with a smile, slipping onto a counter stool while I loaded the washer.
‘Your crew is wild, Jude,’ she said, eyes on me. ‘They talk so fast, and they look like members of an outlaw motorcycle club, but they’re solid.’
‘They’re sold on you,’ I said, closing the distance between us.
Driven by instinct, I hauled her off the stool, pulling her flush to my chest and locking my arms around her.
‘Thanks for tonight. You were a fucking legend.’
Sofia went still for a beat, caught off guard, before relaxing and resting her forehead right under my collarbone.
We fit together almost too well.
Her heat burned through my cotton tee, driving a surge of wild electricity straight down my spine.
I cut the embrace short, shoving myself back as a sudden knot tightened in my throat.
‘Plates are in. Pots are next,’ I gritted out, grabbing the dish soap and cranking the brass faucet to drown out the thud in my ribs. ‘Get some sleep.’
Her gaze held mine for a long, quiet second before a soft smile hit her lips.
‘Good night, Judah.’
The way she said my name with her Italian lilt almost made me lose my damn mind.
She slid off the counter and walked out.
I stared at her tight ass as she left me alone in the dead quiet of the kitchen, staring down into the sink while a scorching ache tore through me.
I wanted her back in my arms, needing her heat, and the force of that truth hit me like a solid fist to the gut.
This was dangerous and so not the plan.
I was meant to be her protector, her safe harbor, not a man losing his grip on his own boundaries to a woman he promised to shield.