Chapter 22
TWENTY-TWO
VANESSA
I hear the front door slam and jump slightly at the sound. When I turn, Mateo is walking in, his black hair tousled, the sleeves of his white button-down rolled up. He tosses his jacket onto one of the barstools and comes straight for me, cupping my face and pressing a desperate kiss to my lips.
“Well, hello to you,” I murmur.
“Hey,” he says, smiling down at me.
“How was Gino’s?”
“It was fine,” he replies, brushing it off. “But I don’t want to talk about your brother right now.”
Before I can say anything, his hands slide to my hips and turn me toward the counter. He lifts me up until I’m sitting on the cool white marble.
“This dress is killing me,” he says, eyeing my dark green sundress.
I yelp when he hikes it up, the back of my thighs hitting the cold surface.
My arms loop around his neck as he steps between my legs, his mouth moving over my neck and shoulders.
He slips the thin straps of my dress down and cups my breasts through the fabric, my nipples tightening instantly under his touch.
He tugs the dress lower, and my breasts spill free. He takes one nipple into his mouth while his hand works the other, making my back arch as I brace myself on the counter behind me.
When he looks up, his eyes are dark with desire, edged with something I can’t quite read. In one swift motion, he pulls off my panties and drops them to the floor. He unbuckles his belt, frees his cock, and pushes into me, stealing the breath from my lungs.
His rhythm is urgent, deep, and I can’t stop myself from moaning his name as he moves inside me.
His gaze locks onto mine, and it reminds me how deeply I’ve fallen for this man.
Sometimes he feels so closed off, but in moments like this he’s wide open.
The look in his eyes is all love and longing, like he doesn’t want this to end.
What we’ve built over the last few weeks goes far beyond sex.
We spend more time talking and watching TV than anything else.
The sex is incredible, sure, but the way I feel coming home to him makes everything else even better.
His voice pulls me out of my haze. “I really do love this dress on you,” he murmurs.
I giggle. “You do, huh?”
“God, yes.”
His thrusts quicken, and I feel us both tipping over the edge, coming apart together in the same breath. He pulls out and grabs a washcloth from one of the kitchen drawers, handing it to me. I clean myself up and slide off the counter.
“Even though that was insanely hot,” I say, “something obviously happened at Gino’s, didn’t it?”
“Yeah,” he admits, “but I don’t want to talk about it yet.”
“Yet?” I study his face. “Mateo, what’s going on?” “I just don’t want you to be mad at me for something I can’t control.”
“This has something to do with that deal, doesn’t it?”
“Yes.” He steps closer and gently backs me against the counter, kissing my forehead. “It’s not something I want to do, but someone has to. As the attorney, it makes sense for me to go.”
“Go where?” I ask softly, my hands sliding around his waist.
“Italy.”
“Italy?” I blink. “I thought you were joking yesterday. I wasn’t expecting it to be you.” I let go of him, the disappointment hitting harder than I expect.
He cups my face, his thumbs brushing my cheeks. “I know. I’m hoping I won’t be gone long.”
“How long?”
“We’re still figuring that out, but probably at least a few weeks.”
“Weeks?”
“Yeah. I’m hoping for one, but that’s not realistic.”
“Do you think I could convince you or my brother to let me go with you? I’ve never been to Italy.” I give my sweetest smile.
“I’d love to take you, but it wouldn’t be safe.”
“Then it wouldn’t be safe for you either,” I tease.
“Oh really?” He smirks. “And how would you argue that?”
“I have a few ideas, but that’s a conversation for another time.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m enjoying having you here, and I don’t want to think about you being gone,” I say.
He silences me with a kiss, desperate and deep, like he’s already afraid of leaving.
Arriving for my shift a few hours later, I can’t stop thinking about Mateo being gone for weeks. I can feel it in my gut that it’s going to be longer than either of us wants.
When I walk into the ER, Lauren is at the desk with her usual bright smile, but the second she sees me, it fades.
“Hey, Vanessa, you good?” she asks when I get closer. Lauren is one of those friends I can tell anything to. I have for the last two years, and she’s given me some of the best advice I’ve ever gotten.
“Yeah, I’m good,” I say, nodding, trying to smile even though it doesn’t quite work.
“No, you’re not.” She freezes mid-note, her pen hovering. “Is something going on with you and the new husband?”
“Everything’s fine,” I say. “He just has to go on a business trip that wasn’t planned, and they don’t know how long he’ll be gone.”
“Well that’s bullshit,” she mutters. “If Jordan had to take some surprise trip, I’d be annoyed.” She gives me a sympathetic smile.
Jordan, her husband, is one of the physiatrists here, and she’s shared more than enough about how hard their relationship has been at times.
“Yeah.”
“It’ll be okay,” she says gently. Right on cue, Jordan walks by, and they exchange one of those looks. I adore her, but the two of them act like teenagers whenever they’re in the same room.
“I’m probably just hormonal,” I joke weakly.
“Maybe,” she says, “but you two just got married. I doubt either of you planned on being apart this soon.”
“You’re right. Have a good night.”
“You too. And hey, if you need to talk, you know where to find me, okay?”
“Okay.” I smile softly as I take the charts from her.
The rest of my shift feels like autopilot.
I can’t stop thinking about Mateo leaving, or about how fast I’ve fallen for a man I’ve barely known for two months.
Loving someone who isn’t family is still so new to me that sometimes it feels overwhelming.
Every time I see him, it’s like the world slows down.
The way he looks at me, even when he’s busy, like I’m the only thing that matters.
He’s changed his entire routine for me, staying up while I work, filling the house with my favorite things, remembering how I like my steak and which trashy reality shows I secretly love.
When my shift finally ends, I walk outside to meet him at the car. One look at his face tells me something’s wrong. His hair is a mess, like he’s been running his hands through it all night, and his jacket is gone.
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
He leans down and presses a soft kiss on my lips.
“I was talking to your brother, and I’m going to need to leave tonight.”
“Tonight?” I shriek.
“Yeah. I know the timing is awful. I tried to push it to next week so we could go to the game together, but they’re pulling more shit over there. They’re asking for more, and we’re not giving it to them. They’re trying to squeeze everything they can out of us.”
We drive most of the way home in heavy silence. When we pull into the driveway, we both freeze. Gino is standing on the front porch.
Mateo gets out first and heads toward him. I’m right behind him.
“Gino, you have a key,” Mateo says. “Why are you standing out here?”
“I’m not staying long,” Gino replies. “I’m guessing you told her?”
“Yeah.”
“Good. Then, Vanessa, while he’s gone, I think you should stay with me.”
“Why?” I ask.
“He won’t be here, and even though you’re close, you’re not close enough for my liking. I don’t want to have to put one of the guys here when it’s easier this way.”
“You sound just like Dad.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“He always had to know where I was or who I was with.”
“That’s not what this is.”
“It sure feels like it.” I mumble.
“Look, I just need to know you’re safe.”
“I feel like there’s more to that.”
“There is,” he admits. “Dad did more damage than we realized. This deal is bullshit, and now I’m worried they might retaliate. Specifically against you.”
Mateo and I both stare at him.
“Why me?” I ask. “What did I do?”
“Nothing. But if they know who you are and that you’re married to him,” he says, pointing at Mateo, “they’ll use it. If they think we’re trying to screw them, they’ll come after one of you.”
“Great,” I mutter. “Have I mentioned how much I hate this whole mafia thing?”
“Once or twice,” Mateo says dryly.
Gino looks at me, his voice low. “Just promise you’ll stay with me while he’s gone.”
“Fine.”
“Be at my place at four this afternoon,” he adds, already heading back to his car.
Once he’s gone, we go inside. I head straight for the shower while Mateo starts packing. As the hot water hits my skin, that uneasy feeling settles deep in my gut. Gino isn’t telling us everything.
When I walk back into the bedroom, Mateo is sitting on the edge of the bed, facing the bathroom. I step between his knees, lift his face in my hands, and kiss him softly.
“I feel like Gino isn’t telling us everything,” I say quietly.
“I don’t disagree,” he admits, “but I think he’s just nervous about me going alone.”
“Alone?” I frown. “I thought someone else would be with you.”
“No. They said only one person could meet with them, and it has to be me.”
“Well, that just adds a whole new level of stress and bullshit.”
“Don’t worry about it,” he says gently. “Everything will be fine.”
But I am worried. I’m terrified something is going to go wrong.