by Bethany-Kris
“Ginny,” he said when he came to a stop in front of her.
Not close enough, though.
A foot away.
He itched to touch her, but he didn’t reach out to do it. That would be her choice, always.
Ginevra’s gaze darted from Alessio a foot behind him and then back to Corrado in a flash. “No costume?”
“Where’s yours?”
“Big wings—they wouldn’t let me bring them on the plane.”
Corrado smirked. “Really?”
“No.”
“Damn, that might have been nice to see.”
Ginevra shrugged the delicate line of her shoulders, saying, “I didn’t have time to grab something for me and the girls. Alessio didn’t give me much notice about this. He told me when to be at the airport, and that’s it.”
He swallowed hard.
And she just came.
She didn’t question it.
“Thank you for coming,” he said.
Ginevra smiled in that way again. “I love you, Corrado. Why wouldn’t I want to be with you ... wherever you are?”
He had a million reasons she shouldn’t want to be with him. The same way he could list the whys that Alessio shouldn’t be his, too. And yet, here they all were.
They didn’t fit alone.
They only worked together.
“Corrado, right?”
Behind Ginevra, he found which of her two sisters asked the question. The tallest, and oldest, of the two.
“Greta, right?” he returned.
The girl flashed her teeth in a smile. “That’s right.” She jerked a thumb toward the girl next to her, saying, “And this is Giulia.”
Corrado nodded. “Very nice to meet you.”
Greta arched a brow. “You’re very different from the other one.”
“Greta,” Ginevra admonished.
“What, he is. I thought he would be like Les, Ginny.”
Alessio chuckled behind him. “Where is the fun in two people who are the same?”
Giulia’s cheeks turned red, but Greta glanced between the two men like she wanted to take in all their differences, from the different style of clothing, to even the cut of their hair.
Corrado understood, then. Ginevra must have explained about this situation to her sisters, and they had to process all of it. That meant awkward questions, or comments at the wrong time.
He didn’t mind.
“Alessio is the fun one,” Corrado told Greta.
“Is he?”
Alessio scoffed. “Yes.”
“Girls,” Cara called behind them, saving Ginevra from saying anything, “do you want to see which rooms you’ll be using for the weekend?”
Just like that, Ginevra’s sisters were thoroughly distracted. It let Corrado take all her attention again.
“You’re staying?” he asked.
She nodded. “I left some unfinished business here. So, yes, if you’ll have me.”
“We both will,” Alessio said.
Corrado tipped his head in Alessio’s direction. “What he said, of course.”
31.
Alessio
“The girls—”
“Are fine in the mansion with Cara and Gian,” Alessio said quickly.
Corrado unlocked the front door to the Guzzi guest house, adding, “My mother rarely has girls she can spoil, so you’ll be lucky to get them back tomorrow.”
Ginevra let out a little laugh, but Alessio could still hear the stress there. Corrado didn’t miss it, either, if the look he shot Alessio over his shoulder when he pushed the door open was any sign.
Sliding an arm around Ginevra’s waist, he pulled her in close while keeping the overnight bags he held back so they didn’t get in the way. Then, he pressed a quick kiss to the side of her temple, saying, “Really, they’re good. And if they need you, then you’re not very far away. But better for us to do all the talking we need to away from everyone else, right?”
She smiled up at him.
Alessio winked back.
“Right,” she whispered.
He didn’t fault her for wanting to keep an eye on her sisters, though. She had been forced away from them for so long, now, that she tried to make up for lost time. Already, Greta was now in her senior year of high school, and Giulia asked to go to Siena’s almost as much as she wanted to stay with Ginevra.
Alessio didn’t think Ginevra was jealous of the girls’ affection for their half-sister, but change could be tough. And in some ways, people had a habit of holding onto the past.
It would get easier.
Eventually.
Alessio supposed him and Corrado could help with that occasionally. By being there, or with whatever else she might need to make her life easier. And the girls, too. He liked her sisters, even with their desire to make sure he understood not to touch their things on the bathroom counter, and including all their attitude first thing in the morning.
He’d forgotten what it was like to be a teenager. Then again, he had never been a proper teen, anyway. A moody prick, sure, but he hadn’t had the same experiences as Ginevra’s sisters.
Ginevra took a minute to admire the inside the Guzzi guest house, which frankly ... was larger than most normal homes, but as Alessio had spent time in it before, he was more interested in watching her.
Well, her and Corrado.
“So, you’re where Les has been, huh?” Corrado asked.
Ginevra turned away from the painting she had been admiring over the fireplace to give Corrado a sly grin. “For a couple of days, but then he left a day early to come here.”
Corrado gave Alessio a look.
He shrugged. “I thought people here might like a heads-up on what I was planning, that’s all.”
“I see.”
“Are you jealous?” Alessio asked.
Corrado arched a brow. “Over what?”
“That I was with Ginevra.”
“I slept alone, Les.”
Right.
And he so hated that.
“But that was my fault,” Corrado muttered, facing Ginevra again. “I wish you hadn’t left—at least, not without telling me something.”
“I thought Marcus would explain,” Ginevra replied.
Corrado laughed darkly. “He would have, likely—except I didn’t answer my calls.”
“And then you broke your phone,” Alessio added, “before you headed off to ... where was it?”
“The lodge in Quebec.”
“And then Vegas,” Alessio said. “Where you still didn’t bother to answer anyone’s messages.”
“I know what I did, Alessio,” Corrado murmured. “I understand how I made it worse, thank you.”
“Always helps to have it pointed out, though.”
“It also doesn’t matter,” Ginevra said, “because we’re here.”
Alessio drifted past Corrado, tipping his head toward him as he shrugged off his jacket to set it along the back of the couch in the main room. He dropped the three small overnight bags he’d carried for them all over the side. “She’s right.”
Ginevra laughed. “Women are always right. I can’t help it that neither of you are used to that—having a woman between you as the voice of reason.”
Corrado chuckled.
“Nice,” Alessio told her.
She winked.
Alessio dropped into the corner of the couch, settling himself on watching the two of them work their shit out. After all, he had two days to do that with Ginevra, and he was good. He knew what he wanted from all of this. They were the only ones left, now.
“A drink?” Ginevra asked.
Corrado nodded as she neared the small wet bar next to the couch. “Sure, why not?”
Ginevra didn’t even ask which drink he wanted. She already knew and reached for the bottle of whiskey before pouring three fingers of the tawny-colored liquor into a low-ball glass. As she passed it over to Corrado, her gaze on him like she was waiting for their talk to continue, s
he didn’t forget about Alessio by reaching over with her other hand to let it drift through his hair, and then her fingertips ghosted over the side of his cheek.
Second nature.
He’d realized it a while ago, but this woman was perfect for them. There were parts of her that were better suited to handle Corrado, and other pieces of her soul seemed to just fit Alessio. She was the calm to the storm, and the light to the darkness.
He’d used to think the thing between him and Corrado—whatever that was, as strong as it was—needed to be the sun in their life. Something they revolved around. The thing that kept them alive, and together.
He was wrong.
Ginevra was the sun.
They just hadn’t found her until now.
“I’m where I want to be,” Ginevra said before Corrado could speak. “Here, with you. And with Les. I am where I want to be, and where I should be, so let me say that first. Is this where you want me to be, Corrado, regardless of the rest?”
Corrado didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”
Alessio tossed an arm over the back of the chair. “That settles that, doesn’t it?”
“But not all,” Corrado returned. “What happened at the club scared you, and you ran off, Ginny. Which would have been fine, except it seemed like you kept running.”
“I don’t like what you sometimes do,” she said simply. “That scares me for a lot of reasons, and it makes me question who I thought I was when I have to face the fact I love people who also do bad things, but I am where I want to be. And that’s what matters.”
“Is it?”
She stared hard at Corrado. “Yes.”
“Even if it happens again?”
“Even then,” she whispered.
She was still touching Alessio, her fingers skimming over his jawline as she took a minute to consider whatever it was running through her mind. He knew it was something in her mind keeping her quiet because that knot formed between her brow which said she was thinking too hard.
She always did that.
Ginevra focused on details.
Alessio dwelled.
And Corrado ... well, he shut down.
They were three imperfect people who had somehow found a way to fit together. Life would be far more boring without them there to share it with him, though, flaws and all. Of that, Alessio was most sure.
“I always take care of everyone else,” Ginevra said, her hand leaving Alessio so she could fix the bottle on the wet bar. “I was the friend my mother didn’t have because she had been so isolated and dependent on a man who only used her for years; a caretaker for my sisters, and even when our mother was still alive, I filled in where she couldn’t. And I was willing to marry a man I didn’t know and didn’t want to protect the people I cared about. In every other aspect of my life, I still take care of other people because it’s what I do. It’s who I am. I want to say sorry for making you think I was leaving you behind, but I can’t because someone else needed me more for a bit.”
Corrado cleared his throat. “You shouldn’t have to apologize for being selfless, Ginny.”
“Except you didn’t see me that way, did you?”
“What do you mean?”
Ginevra frowned. “Selfless. You didn’t see me the way I am because I don’t have to be that with either of you—I never have to sacrifice for you or Les. You don’t ask for more than I give, and you take care of me far more often than I take care of you.”
“Debatable,” Alessio spoke up, “but I think the way you take care of us, as you say, is so ingrained in who you are, and how you fit us, that you don’t feel like you have to do it. It just is, but we notice it.”
Corrado nodded. “We do, and when it was gone, well ... it went badly, didn’t it?”
Alessio glanced Corrado’s way.
A crooked smile answered him back.
Where was the lie?
“So, how do we fix that?” Corrado asked. “This, I mean, how do we make sure it doesn’t happen again? Because this is where you want to be, with us, and you are where we want you to be ... so we need to make sure this is where you stay, Ginny. I love you, and I need you to stay.”
“A rule,” Ginevra said.
Alessio made a noise under his breath.
She looked to Corrado for an explanation, and he grinned when he murmured, “Those are what got us into trouble.”
Exactly.
Alessio stayed quiet.
“All right,” Ginevra said, “an understanding, then. Better?”
Alessio tipped his chin down to agree.
“We don’t shut out people we love, and we don’t shut off from them, either,” Ginevra said. “Ever.”
“Just like that?” Corrado asked. “That’s all you want from us?”
She met Corrado’s gaze, unafraid and so sure.
Alessio smiled—life was right again.
Or it was getting there.
“And we stay together,” Ginevra said quieter. “No matter what. Because I’m not me without the two of you, and I might be selfless to everyone else, but I am selfish enough with my happiness that I want to keep both of you.”
“Do you?”
“How could I not when I love you?”
Yes, Alessio thought, life was most definitely right again.
Corrado stilled at Ginevra’s statement, his gaze skipping to Alessio for a split second. Alessio hadn’t missed it, and he was quick to ask, “What?”
“I just ...”
“Corrado,” Alessio murmured.
“Weren’t you the one who said we put too much weight into those words?”
“I did.”
“And yet,” Corrado hedged.
“The impact is still unlike anything,” Alessio said. “And doesn’t it sound so fucking good coming out of her, though?”
“It does.”
Ginevra passed a soft smile back to Alessio. “You are something.”
He winked. “And you love it.”
“Lucky for you.”
“It is,” Corrado said, “lucky for him, I mean ... for both of us.”
Ginevra’s laughter colored up the space, but just as quickly, it was drowned out by Corrado closing the distance between them to kiss her. A few steps had separated them, then she moved around the edge of the couch to stand in front of Alessio, when Corrado caught her. Alessio had the privilege of being able to see it when the two let down the rest of those walls.
He understood Corrado’s need—that undeniable urge to just kiss Ginevra and have her close—because he sensed it, too. He’d felt it when he first saw her in her New York apartment, and it had taken everything in him to wait long enough for her sisters to be gone before he closed the distance one fucking step at a time to get what he wanted.
Hell, Corrado had lasted longer.
Props to him.
There was something stirring to Alessio to watch the two—it didn’t matter if they were cooking side by side, kissing like they were now, or waking up to see them fucking next to him in the bed. It all brought on the same hurricane of emotions. It still thundered deep in his chest, something that went beyond his heartbeat.
Love.
Lust.
Need.
Want.
Amazement.
Terror.
Appreciative.
Selfishness.
Because that was all his—both people. And that thing between them they shared. It was his, too. Individually, with each of them on a one-to-one basis, and them together as a unit with him.
People who are lucky get one great love in their life. Many more never even get the chance to meet theirs.
Alessio?
He was given two.
Two.
The hand Corrado had tucked clasped onto Ginevra’s side drifted away from her to reach for Alessio. He didn’t question the want for touch, simply answered it by reaching back, his fingers threading with Corrado’s before he leaned forward enough to press his forehead against the side of th
eir clasped hands.
For a single second before this moment turned into something else—he figured it would; they needed the physical side, too, with each other—he soaked that in, refusing to let anything seep into his mind so he wouldn’t forget it.
That feeling.
Would it ever be the same again?
He wasn’t sure.
It didn’t matter.
He’d never forget it now.
But he also wasn’t wrong on what he believed, either. All it took was a soft, “I need you—both of you.” That whisper from Ginevra was so quiet, and yet, there was an unmistakable heat in her tone. A want.
And he swore it was second nature for he and Corrado ... an uncontrollable urge they both had to give this woman what she wanted, when she wanted it. It didn’t matter what it was, pancakes at nine in the evening, or fucking at two in the morning, they would give it to her because she asked.
A lot like each other, too.
Ginevra fell back into Alessio’s lap, her loose hair spilling over his shoulder as his arms locked around her waist. He took that chance to dip his hands lower while Corrado pulled his suit jacket off and worked on the buttons of his shirt. Alessio wasn’t the least bit surprised to find Ginevra hot and wet under the lace panties hidden between the skirt of her dress. He bunched the skirt around her hips. His hand under her panties moved fast, stroking through the seam of her sex to take the wetness he found there up to her clit.
All she needed to get off were the pads of his fingertips against her clit in fast back-and-forth strokes at a steady pressure, and he would make her come like nothing at all. He did exactly that, wanting her worked up. No flavor was better than Ginevra’s pussy right after she came, no doubt about that.
There was something sweeter tasting to her skin, he would swear on it.
“Yeah, fuck,” Corrado said when he buried his face into Ginevra’s neck to breathe her in as she squirmed against his hold, “make her come, Les. Let me see it.”
“Oh, my God,” Ginevra choked out, the sound raw enough to make his cock impossibly harder beneath his jeans. And with her tight little ass grinding against his groin to get more friction of his hand against her clit, he damn near blew his load like a fucking teenager. “Please, don’t stop. Please, Les.”