Gabe fished around in the nightstand and came up with an empty box. “Shit. Hang on. I have one in my wallet.”
Talk about a buzz kill. I pulled the sheet to my chin and tried really hard not to think. Unfortunately, it didn’t work.
He returned and waved the foil packet like a victory flag. “Add condoms to your grocery list.”
“You’d better check the expiration date on that thing.” I was only half teasing. He and Leo had both said he hadn’t dated anyone since Chantal.
He flipped the light on, studied the wrapper, and grinned. “It’s still good.”
“But you’re not.” I licked my lips and motioned to his less-than-ready appendage. “Come here, let me help you.”
As if by magic, the mere suggestion of a blow job hardened his cock before he’d slid between the sheets.
“You were saying?” Suited up and ready to go, he crawled on top of me.
The world seemed to hinge on my next breath, his next move. We stayed still for a heartbeat. In torturous slow motion, he pushed his hips forward and sank deep inside me.
I clutched his shoulders and bit my lip to keep the moan building in my throat from escaping. I felt him everywhere—his soapy scent, his still damp hair, his hard chest, and soft hands. It was overwhelming. He was overwhelming.
I couldn’t focus on my pleasure and look at him at the same time. I closed my eyes and turned my head.
“Look at me,” he whispered.
My breath caught when I met his gaze. Gabe Marchionni, one of the strongest men I knew, had tears in his eyes.
This time he looked away.
Rather than telling him I understood, that I was in this with him, that he was my first and my last love, I wrapped my hand around the back of his head and pulled his face to mine.
“I love you.” Gabe nuzzled against my cheek, thrust a few more times, and released a shuddered breath. “I’ll never let anything happen to you.”
“I love you, too.” My voice cracked. We’d said the words before, but this time I felt them in my soul. Heaven help me, I can’t imagine my life without him.
Our bodies still connected, he rolled us to the side and cocooned me in his arms. For the first time in a long while, I felt cherished.
Ryan opened the bedroom door. “Aunt Maggie. I need you.”
My heart jumped into my throat. I scrambled to make sure all of the important parts were covered. “What’s the matter?”
Gabe mumbled something about locking the door.
“I had a bad dream. Read me a story.” He rubbed his eyes.
“I’d love to. Go pick out a book and get in bed. I’ll be right there.”
The boy nodded and shuffled back into the hall.
I waited to make sure he’d gone and slid into my robe. “Stay here. I’ll be back in ten minutes.”
“Make it five.” Gabe rolled over and hugged my pillow. If I had to place bets, I’d wager he’d be fast asleep before I made it to Ryan’s room.
The boy sat in his bed with his favorite book in his lap. I eased in beside him and read about a little bird that lost his way home. When I’d finished, I leaned over to kiss the top of his head and smelled chocolate.
I sniffed again. “Why do you smell like cake?”
“Because I ate the icing.” He squirmed away, but I pulled him close.
“How much did you eat?”
“Cocoa and I ate it all,” Ryan whispered. “Then she threw up all over.”
I bit my lip to keep from laughing. “Oh my. Then what happened?”
“Zach hurt his ankle, but he still made me take a bath.” Ryan folded his arms and stuck out his lower lip.
I poked his side until he giggled. “I don’t think you got it all off. Did you use body wash?”
“There isn’t any, and Zach wouldn’t let me use the shell soaps.”
The pieces of the puzzle clicked into place. “Which tub did you use?”
“The one with the fancy towels.” He yawned.
I stood and pulled his Spiderman comforter to his shoulders. “Goodnight, sweetheart.”
“G’night.”
The closer I came to the bathroom, the greater my sense of doom. I opened the door and the aroma of chocolate almost knocked me over. It looked like Willy Wonka had set up shop. Brown goo covered the floor and walls and tub. No amount of bleach would save the pretty white guest towels.
I smiled and closed the door. Mr. Wonderful didn’t have things as under control as he wanted me to believe. He didn’t do a better job at parenting than I did. He faked it better.
29
Gabe
Three weeks had passed since the last time I’d heard from Chantal. Her radio silence should have been a good thing, but I didn’t trust it. She still hadn’t signed the damned papers. While I didn’t want to believe Chantal had tricked me into knocking her up to extort money, it made sense. One thing I knew for sure, women like Chantal didn’t give up easily.
In four days, the clock would run out on whatever game she was playing—four freaking days until the judge ruled on my petition for full custody of Ella.
“Maggie, we’re late for work.” I’d paced a rut in the kitchen floor waiting for her.
“Sorry, I was working on my novel and lost track of time.” She handed Ella to Hildie, who I’d begged to come help with the kids.
Hildie smiled, but I didn’t. Maggie looked like hell. Her skin seemed paler or maybe it was the dark circled under her eyes. She’d lost the little bounce in her step—even her hair seemed to slouch. With Mardi Gras season in full swing, we’d worked long hours and the days between now and Fat Tuesday would be even crazier.
“Why don’t you take the night off?” I pressed my hand to her forehead, but she batted it away.
“I’m fine. Let’s go.”
“You might want to change your shirt.” I motioned to the spit-up on her shoulder
Maggie groaned. “Dang it.”
Hildie said, “I always think it smells like week old alfredo sauce.”
Maggie choked out a laugh and went back down the hall to change.
I texted Jessie to let her know we were running late.
“Okay, I’m ready.” Maggie returned to the kitchen wearing a long-sleeved T-shirt with the bar logo.
We kissed the kids and headed for the car.
“Are you sure you aren’t coming down with something?”
“Gabe, seriously, I’m fine.” She checked her reflection and sighed. “You’re giving me a complex.”
“I worry. Sue me.” I turned off the highway and navigated through the Quarter. “I spoke to Santiago today. The judge still hasn’t made a final ruling on your case.”
Her eyes went all sort of watery.
“Babe, don’t cry. It’ll work out in our favor.”
“I hope so.”
“We’re going to be busy tonight. I’ll be behind the bar with you and Jessie.”
“Okay.” She gazed at my mouth and licked her lips.
“Don’t look at me like that or we’ll never make it inside.” I pulled into a spot in the alley behind the building.
“Maybe that’s my evil plan.” She hopped out of the car before I could reply.
“We aren’t that late.” I moved behind her and slid my hand under the front of her shirt as she punched the code into the keypad.
“Five minutes won’t hurt anything…”
I pushed her through the door with every intention of bending her over my desk. Unfortunately, it wasn’t technically my desk anymore.
Leo popped his head out of the office. “Gabe, got a sec?”
“Piss off, will you.” I loved my brother, but I fucking hated the situation. This was my bar. I’d worked my ass off to turn it around. I didn’t want to run my father’s business. I wanted Maggie and the kids and a life that didn’t involve guns, money laundering, or murder.
My brother and Maggie stared.
I pressed my back against the wall and hung my head. Thi
s wasn’t Leo’s fault. My brother didn’t want to manage the bar any more than I wanted to take over for my father. It was up to me to atone for decades of sins. “Sorry, man. I didn’t mean to snap at you.”
“Don’t worry about it.” He ducked back into the office.
Maggie kissed my cheek and handed me her purse. “We aren’t blind. We can see losing the bar is tearing you apart. Talk to your father.”
“What’s done is done.” I watched her walk down the hall before heading into the office to lock up her bag and talk to Leo.
She hadn’t asked anything else about the family business, and I hadn’t volunteered any information. Not yet. I’d planned to, but things were going too good to screw them up. Besides, I’d rather wait until I knew for sure I could break my brothers and me free of the Cosa Nostra once and for all.
Leo glanced up when I came into the office. “Nice handbag. Is that a Kate Spade?”
“It’s Maggie’s, and I’m not in the mood to listen to you bust my balls about carrying her purse.”
He raised his hands in surrender. “Who am I to judge? I spent hours this morning searching websites for poodle puppies.”
Of all the words I’d heard come out of my brother’s mouth, those were the most bizarre. “Tell me you’re kidding.”
“What can I say. The little fluff balls grew on me.”
I pinched the bridge of my nose to stave off an oncoming headache. “The accountant is all settled into his new digs?”
Leo nodded. “I get why you did it, but the risk…”
“All’s well that ends well.”
Maggie’s phone rang for the fourth or fifth time since we’d left the house. My curiosity got the better of me, and I pulled the cell from the outside pocket.
Leo’s eyes rounded. “I’d reconsider whatever it is your considering, bro.”
I smirked and answered. “Marchionni.”
The caller disconnected.
My pulse sped as I scrolled through her call history. “She’s got fifty-six voice mails from a blocked number.”
Leo motioned to the drawer. “Put the phone down and step away from the desk. You’re entering dangerous territory.”
“She said she’s been getting threatening prank calls.” I pressed play on a random message. Halfway through the obscenities, I hit delete and played another. This one made my blood boil. “Some asshat’s leaving death threats.”
Leo snatched the phone from me and pressed it to his ear. He listened, scowled, and listened again. “Jesus.”
“I’ll have someone in the office trace the calls and find the psycho.” And then I’d see how the caller enjoyed real threats. The silver lining, if I could call it that, the female caller didn’t sound like Chantal.
“Speaking of psychos, any word from your baby momma?”
I dragged my hand over my face. “Nothing.”
He nodded and drummed his fingers. “Listen. What Maggie said in the hall was right. I’ve been talking to Enzo. You have a family now. It makes more sense for him to work with Pops. He’s hungry for it and has less to lose if things go south.”
“Thanks, bro. I appreciate it, but I’m up to my balls in it now. Besides, Enzo’s more likely to keep us in than get us out.” I loved him for making the suggestion, but I couldn’t shirk my responsibilities. With Joe gone, I was the oldest. This was my cross to bear—a cross I intended to throw into the wood chipper at the first opportunity.
He pressed his lips together and nodded. “I’ve been going over the books. Tell me again why you don’t take credit cards.”
I gave him what I hoped was a patient stare.
He shrugged. “I’m just saying. It’s all about customer service.”
I lowered my voice. “Our largest customers are in Sicily.”
He furrowed his brow, but the freaking lightbulb came on over his head. “Right. It’s harder to launder money with a paper trail.”
Once again, my blood pressure shot through the roof. “How do you not know that? You run a Marchionni Corp-owned business. Am I the only one up to my ass in illegal shit?”
Leo grimaced. “It’s impossible to run a restaurant on a cash basis, but it takes a lot of food and other products to run a restaurant. We get more than our fair share of deliveries, if you know what I mean.”
“I gotcha.” My stomach turned. I understood all too well. New Orleans was a port city and easily accessible to Central and South America. Leo and Enzo were importing a lot more than fruit and vegetables. “I better get out there. The girls are probably swamped.”
“Sure thing.” Leo turned his attention back to the computer.
Less than an hour later people packed into every nook and cranny of the place. Maggie, Jessie, and I struggled to keep up, but I loved every second of it. Almost every second of it. I could do without Detective Wayne O’Malley growing roots on the stool in front of Maggie’s workstation.
Wayne motioned to her, then tapped his watch, signaling he wanted to close his tab.
“Leaving already?” Maggie cleared his empty glass.
“Yeah, I have an early day tomorrow.” He set a twenty on the bar.
“I’ll get your change.”
“Keep it.” Wayne turned and disappeared into the crowd.
“I don’t like the way he looks at you.” I punched an order into the computer.
“Who?” She cocked a brow.
“That detective.”
Maggie grinned and shook her head. “He isn’t looking at me.”
Then who the hell is he looking at? Before I could sort it out, a busty redhead waved cash in my face. “What can I get you?”
She said something, but I didn’t catch it.
“Come again?”
The woman planted her elbows on the bar and leaned close enough I could count the freckles on her breasts—not that I was looking. “Jack and coke.”
Maggie rolled her eyes and moved to the next customer.
I nodded and took the redhead’s money, but she grabbed my hand and damned near pulled me across the bar top.
“What time do you get off?”
Drunk women hitting on bartenders was an occupational hazard. I’d learned early on it was best not to shoot them down outright. Instead, I laughed and shook my head. “Not until dawn.”
“I could get you off right now.” She slurred her words.
“Your fiancé is about ready to kick your ass,” Jessie whispered in my ear.
I glanced past her to Maggie and wished I hadn’t. The look she gave me could have frozen all nine layers of Hell.
The redhead wrote something on a napkin, kissed it, and pressed it into my hand. “Call me.”
Maggie tossed a rag on the counter. “I need to go on break.”
“Shit.” I tossed the napkin in the trash and turned to follow her.
“Let her go.” Jessie laughed.
“You’re enjoying this?”
“Oh yeah, it’s about time you met your match.”
Ten minutes later, Maggie returned dressed like my cousin. Actually, I’d bet my right nut she’d rummaged through the spare clothes Jessie kept in back. Not that any of that mattered—not when she looked smokin’ in a room full of drunk guys.
The short denim skirt barely covered her ass, and she tied the Got Beads? tank top in a knot to show off her midriff. Not only was she showing serious skin, she’d applied makeup. The look would have seemed slutty, but the little temptress had woven her hair into twin French braids. Fuck me, she looked like a cross between a rocker-Barbie and a schoolgirl.
Thank Christ she didn’t change out of her combat boots.
On second thought, the shit-kickers look hot. Too dammed hot.
She smirked, returned to her station, and got to work.
“Maggie.”
She ignored me. Smiling, she tucked a twenty into her bra and poured a drink.
I pulled her to the side. “What are you doing?”
“Working on the kids’ college funds.”
She’s paying me back for the redhead. “I don’t like it.”
She twirled a braid around her finger. “You don’t like it?”
I freaking died. How in the hell did she expect me to work with a raging hard-on? “No. You look…distracting.”
“Then don’t look at me.” She turned and took another order.
Oh, hell no. I wasn’t about to let her get the last laugh. She might have changed her clothes, but this was Maggie. My Maggie. She was more comfortable in a pew than on a pole.
I scooted past her and grabbed her ass. I don’t mean a pinch. I mean I slid my hands under the denim and took two handfuls.
She yelped and turned to me as if dumbstruck.
“Get back to work.” I motioned to the waiting customers.
Closing time had come and gone. Stressed, and exhausted, I wanted to go home. Unfortunately, everyone else wanted to hang around the empty bar and gab about my life.
I sat between Leo and Maggie and watched with rapt fascination as she attempted to open a locked set of handcuffs with a bobby pin.
He whispered, “She’s doing field research for her book.”
Maggie shoved the pin into the lock, twisted it, and frowned. “The entire situation with the bar is ridiculous.”
“Right?” Dahlia huffed. As Leo’s friend, I figured she’d heard her fair share of my brother’s bitching. “I don’t understand why Papa Joe insists that Leo run this place. He has his hands full with the restaurant.”
Dahlia was a looker—jet black hair, pale skin, and a body like a supermodel. What the hell was Leo waiting for? They seemed into each other from day one, and that was almost ten years ago.
“Do you guys always do what Papa Joe tells you to do?” Maggie glanced between me and Leo.
I pinched her leg under the table. This conversation didn’t need to happen in front of witnesses. Besides, I was more interested in going home and trying out the handcuffs.
“Almost always.” Jessie unclipped her hair and gave her head a quick shake. Growing up, she’d spent so much time at my folks that I thought of her more like a kid sister than a cousin.
Maggie perked up. “Jessie, you ran the place before. Have you thought about taking over for Gabe?”
Absinthe Minded: A Mafia Romantic Comedy (Bourbon Street Bad Boys' Club Book 1) Page 18