Chapter 4
Ava couldn’t believe he’d just walked away.
The moment his mouth had touched hers, her entire body had jolted like she’d been hit by a current.
Her lips parted in pure shock, a startled gasp caught in her throat, her brain stuttering to process what was happening.
For a heartbeat, she froze, wide-eyed, the world narrowing to nothing but the pressure of Luca’s lips against hers.
Then—heaven help her—she’d kissed him back.
Her fingers drifted upward in disbelief, brushing her lips as if she needed proof they were still there, tingling, swollen from the heat of him.
Not only had Luca kissed her, but she had answered him.
That realization made her heart race wildly, though it wasn’t guilt or regret burning through her—it was something far more dangerous.
Ava blinked rapidly, breath shaky, trying to steady the chaos inside her chest. But all she could feel was the molten heat that lingered on her mouth, spreading through her body.
She hadn’t meant to respond. She couldn’t have meant to respond.
And yet, her traitorous body had betrayed her completely, answering his kiss with a hunger she couldn’t deny.
The soft clink of silverware shattered the silence, snapping her head around. “Ma’am, are you finished with breakfast?”
She spun toward the voice, pulse still pounding in her ears. For a wild second, she half-expected Luca to stride back in and claim her lips again. Worse, some reckless part of her wanted him to. The thought left her swaying inside, off balance, her defenses slipping.
But she didn’t even like the man, right? She didn’t want to be anywhere near him.
“Ma’am?” the waiter repeated, polite but insistent. He stood by the door with military-straight posture, hands clasped neatly behind his back. “I can come back later if you need more time.”
Ava blinked at him, her mind still spinning so hard she could barely remember where she was.
Her gaze dropped to the untouched plate in front of her.
Waffles. Her favorite comfort food, the one thing that usually grounded her.
Maple syrup, golden and sweet… and here she was contemplating breakfast when she could still taste Luca Bernardi on her lips.
Ridiculous.
No—this wasn’t about food. This was pure, maddening sexual frustration, clawing at her, trying to trick her into soothing herself with sugar instead of acknowledging the truth.
If she let Luca in—if she gave him any room at all—he’d unravel her completely.
She’d end up spoiled, soft, probably a hundred pounds heavier and still begging for more.
Her lips curved despite herself. If I could have waffles every morning… maybe it would almost be worth it.
The thought snapped her back to the present with a jolt. She gave her head a small shake and turned to the waiter. “No, thank you. We’re done with the food.”
Still, her eyes lingered on the waffles with a flicker of longing, her stomach giving a small, traitorous flutter.
She could ask him to box them up, take them back to her office where she could eat them in peace.
It wasn’t as though she’d ever been allowed that kind of indulgence growing up.
Her mother had dismissed anything sweet or comforting as frivolous, unhealthy, a luxury Ava didn’t deserve.
But before she could open her mouth, the waiter was already clearing the table, whisking the dishes away with impersonal efficiency until every last trace of temptation disappeared.
Ava remained rooted to the spot, her feet glued to the carpet. The weight of Luca’s kiss—the memory of it—still burned on her lips, hot and forbidden. Irritated with herself, furious at her own lack of willpower, she forced her body to move. One step. Then another. Until she was out of the office.
The moment the doors closed behind her, she was greeted by Franco and Leone, both flipping magazines closed in unison. They stood the instant they saw her, flanking her with the practiced ease of men who had done it a thousand times before.
“All set?” Leone asked, his tone deliberately light, though his eyes searched her face with quiet concern as he guided her toward the elevators.
Ava nodded absently, her thoughts elsewhere, still caught up in the dizzying whirl of her emotions. What was she supposed to do now? How could she get rid of the memory of that kiss, of the way her body had reacted to him, when all she wanted was to stay in control?
Ava considered how to answer Leone’s question, her mind racing through the events of the last hour.
Her emotions were all over the place, but there was one thing she knew for sure: she wasn’t ready to discuss it yet.
In the end, she shook her head. “No. Nothing is set,” she replied, her voice steady despite the chaos in her head.
When Leone and Franco shot her curious glances, she simply shook her head again, silently signaling that they should wait until they were out of view of the cameras. It wasn’t a paranoid thought—everyone knew the casinos had cameras all over the place, including the elevators.
As they made their way to the parking garage, the familiar sounds of the bustling casino faded, replaced by the quieter hum of the garage. Ava couldn’t shake the feeling of being on display, like she was still under the watchful eyes of the casino’s staff.
Once they were back in the truck and pulling out of the parking garage, Leone glanced into the rear-view mirror, making sure the coast was clear. “Okay, we’re alone now. Tell us what happened,” he urged, his voice a mix of curiosity and concern.
Ava bit her lip, staring out of the window as the truck rumbled down the empty streets. “He said he’d protect me. But he wants to marry me.”
There was a long silence. The weight of her words seemed to settle in the truck, the air thick with her uncertainty.
After what felt like an eternity, Franco nodded thoughtfully.
“I think that’s a good idea.” He turned to Leone with a mischievous grin.
“What’s a maid of honor called when they are men? ”
Leone quirked an eyebrow, his lips curling into a smirk. “Gentlemen of honor,” he said, his voice calm, but there was amusement in his eyes. “But I’m the GOH. You’ll be just the bride’s gentleman.”
Franco playfully punched Leone’s arm, laughing. “I’ll be the GOH. You’ll have to settle for the lower status,” he teased, leaning back in his seat. “Just like always, I’m on top.”
Ava chuckled, oddly comforted by their playful squabble.
There was no doubt that, if she were ever to marry, these two would be by her side.
They’d been there for her through thick and thin, their bond forged in the fires of mutual understanding.
She didn’t have many female friends—just co-workers, and most of them weren’t people she felt she could rely on. But Leone and Franco? They were family.
She had even been a witness to their wedding, and it made sense that they would be by her side if she ever had her own.
But the real question remained—was she going to marry Luca?
Was that completely outrageous? They didn’t even like each other.
Granted, there was chemistry—the undeniable pull between them.
But attraction wasn’t enough to sustain a marriage.
“What’s the issue?” Leone asked, pulling her from her mental quandary.
Ava exhaled sharply, turning to face them. She gave them a more comprehensive version of the story, leaving out the kiss—the one part she wasn’t ready to explain just yet. But as soon as she finished, Leone shifted in the front seat, watching her carefully.
“And?” he prompted, clearly sensing her careful editing.
Ava folded her arms over her chest, looking out the window again. “And nothing. I told you everything he said.”
They pulled into her office parking lot and Ava leapt out like the seat was on fire, hoping to avoid further revelations. She wasn’t even sure she understood herself—how was she supposed to explain it to Franco and Leone?
“She’s trying to get away from us,” Franco said dryly. She heard both doors slam shut behind her, and she groaned inwardly. Her best friends weren’t about to let her escape that easily.
They waited until they were inside her office with the door closed, sparing her staff from the drama.
“Spill it,” Leone commanded, leaning against the wall with his arms folded, his grin already lurking.
Ava crossed to her desk, staring down at the neat piles of contracts, schedules, invoices, and staffing notes. Normally, the sight grounded her. Today it felt suffocating. She sank into her chair, leaning back with an exasperated sigh.
“That’s it,” she said flatly. “He’s giving me time to consider his offer. He said he’d protect me while I figured things out.”
Silence. Long, heavy, waiting silence. Ava didn’t even look at them; she could feel their eyes boring into her.
“What aren’t you telling us?” Franco demanded, narrowing his eyes.
“Nothing,” Ava said too quickly, flicking her gaze to the clock on the wall. “You know it all. Besides, I have a meeting in a few minutes. Do you really have time to grill me about something that may or may not have happened?”
Franco chuckled, turning to his husband with a knowing smirk. “He kissed her.”
Leone’s grin spread like wildfire. “Maybe a bit more than just a kiss?” he suggested, watching the color creep into Ava’s cheeks. “Definitely more than a kiss.”
Ava’s eyes widened, her face flushing red. “No!” she blurted, smacking her palms down on the desk as if the sound alone would erase their suspicions. “It was just a kiss!”
Leone tipped his head, unbothered. “A kiss that rocked your world,” he teased, leaning back like a cat who’d cornered a mouse.