by Tami Lund
She’d showered and changed into a casual summer dress by the time Tony knocked on her door. As soon as she let him into the apartment, she hopped into his arms and wrapped her legs around his waist. He held her with his hands on her ass and arched his brows at her more enthusiastic than normal greeting.
She dropped a quick kiss on his lips and then hugged him. “I got a promotion,” she said breathlessly. Being in his arms like this was making it difficult to focus on anything beyond shedding clothes and hoping the box of condoms in her bedroom wasn’t empty. Yeah, sure, they’d been together only a few days, but it had been an active few days and frankly, she had no clue how many condoms were in a regular box.
“That’s fantastic,” he said, and she was certain she fell a little bit more for this guy. He sounded genuinely happy for her. No casual “congrats,” or an unimpressed “good for you” from this guy.
He truly wanted her to succeed, to be happy.
“I’m so lucky,” she said, and then she laughed. “I never thought those words would come out of my mouth. I’ve never been this lucky in my life.”
“What do you mean?” he asked as he carried her toward the kitchen.
She glanced over her shoulder and said, “You’re going the wrong way.”
He arched one eyebrow. “Aren’t you hungry?”
She wiggled in his grip. “Yes. But not for food.”
He chuckled and shook his head while turning and heading down the short hall to the bedroom. “I think you mean I’m the lucky one.”
“Uh-uh. Seriously. Getting fired from wedding planning for doing the right thing sucked, but the end result was, I finally decided to pursue a career I’m passionate about. And then I saw that little girl get kidnapped, which sort of was the catalyst for you and I meeting. And now I’ve been offered a promotion, and you and I, well…” She grinned. “So far, this is just about perfect.”
His smile faltered.
“What’s wrong?”
Shaking his head, he said, “I’m far from perfect, Phoebe. You’re definitely dating a guy who’s way below par.”
Her eyes widened. “Did you say dating? Are we dating? Like, officially?” God, she hoped so. She wanted this to be real. It sure felt real. Yeah, Tony was kind of down on himself, but everybody had self-esteem issues sometimes, right? She would make it her mission to convince him he really was the great guy she believed him to be.
“Uh…” He looked uncertain. Maybe he wasn’t sure if she was ready for this sort of commitment.
She wrapped her arms around his neck again and squeezed. “It’s official,” she whispered into his ear.
Like she’d flipped a switch, he dropped her onto the bed, climbed on top of her, and kissed her until she was breathless and needy and desperate to connect with him physically as well as emotionally.
“No talking,” he commanded as he grasped the hem of her dress and tugged it over her head. “I don’t want to think about anything else. Just you and me. Let’s pretend the rest of the world doesn’t even exist.”
No problem there.
While he shed his clothes, she snagged a condom. When he was naked, he covered her body with his own and wrapped his hand around the one holding the small foil square. He paused like that, staring into her eyes for a long moment. Her heart began galloping, her breath caught in her throat …was he about to say those three little words?
Was she ready for that? Did she love him?
Like everyone, she’d had crushes in high school. And she’d dated a few guys in college; one she’d been serious enough about to go home with him over winter break. But after staying with his parents for two weeks, she had known he wasn’t the man for her. His dad owned a diner and had bragged about the various ways he managed to cheat both his customers and vendors out of their money. And his son had shed the good guy persona and started acting just like him.
Phoebe had called it splitsville as soon as they returned to campus.
It had taken her three months to realize that guy wasn’t who he claimed to be. And here she was with Tony, five days into their relationship and already imagining he was about to tell her he loved her.
What the heck was she doing? Why was she overanalyzing the situation? Everything from her toes to the roots of her hair tingled, thanks to the warmth of his body pressed to hers. She didn’t need a proclamation of love right now; she wanted to have sex.
There’d be plenty of time to mull over the emotional aspect of this thing later.
She reached up and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer. He came willingly, pressing his lips to hers while one hand cupped her breast and kneaded. She moaned, arching her back and trailing her fingers down his spine until she grasped his ass and gave it a squeeze.
“I need…” he croaked.
“Me too,” she assured him.
He rolled onto his back, taking her with him, and she sat astride him, sheathing his length before sinking onto it with a groan.
This was right where she wanted to be. Her life was practically perfect.
She didn’t want to change a damn thing.
9
I Should Let You Go, But…
Antonio met Margot at the park again on Wednesday, and after dragging Nina away from her mother and depositing her back into the care of Zelda the Terrible Nanny, he headed straight to Phoebe’s arms.
Although, after yesterday, he should have run the other way. The minute she suggested they were officially dating, he should have made an excuse and booked it out of there.
Whether he liked the idea of dating her was hardly the issue here. Or the fact that he really did want to do that historic pub crawl she’d suggested for this weekend. Didn’t matter what he liked or wanted.
To make matters worse, this addiction he’d developed wasn’t even physical. Yeah, he definitely liked being skin on skin with her. But that wasn’t it, at least not the full picture.
She wouldn’t let him change the subject when they were talking about their favorite memories. She wanted to know all about him. The way she kept up a steady stream of chatter while they stood side by side brushing their teeth—and didn’t get spit on the mirror.
Her enthusiasm over cooking with him.
The way she teased him about his wardrobe, which, as far as she was aware, consisted of T-shirts, shorts, a single button-down shirt, and pair of jeans.
Fuck a duck, he was falling hard. Despite the lectures he’d had with his heart, that organ had gone and done exactly what he warned it not to.
The worst part, though, was that he was pretty sure she felt the same way, and that really sucked. Because the very last thing he wanted to do was hurt her, and it was absolutely going to happen.
He’d better make an appointment to see a doctor about that ulcer.
“Hold me,” he said when she invited him into her apartment later that evening.
She laughed and obligingly wrapped her arms around him and held him tightly against her body. It felt like coming home, something he hadn’t felt even when he was growing up.
He and Gino grew up in a trailer park on the fringe of a well-to-do school district, sat in classes with kids with designer clothes, the latest iPhone, every gaming system available for purchase, not to mention trips to various other countries during school breaks and summers spent at the second home on a lake up north.
The Sarvillis shopped at Salvation Army—when they were having a back-to-school special, no less.
Antonio would never forget the day some kid walked up to him in the hall and said the shirt he was wearing had once been his, but he didn’t like it anymore, so his mom gave it to charity and bought him five new ones to replace it.
The summer before Antonio started third grade, Gino had been heading into eighth, and he’d lied about his age to get a job working as a caddy at a nearby golf course. The job both fueled his desire to be like the other side and bulked him up. Between that and a well-timed growth spurt, he was the biggest kid in his class
when he started the last year of middle school, paving the way for his entry into the world of bullying.
While he was intimidating kids into giving over their lunch money, Antonio was still in elementary school, but he, too, had figured out how to make a buck to buy those Lego sets he loved so much and never, ever got from Santa Claus.
Because Santa Claus didn’t care about poor kids. That’s what Gino told him one year, after he started crying because the set he’d begged for on Santa’s lap at the mall wasn’t under the tree.
So, using his math skills and sharp wit during recess, he scammed the other kids out of their allowance through card games that he never lost. By the time his big brother realized Antonio was making more money as a card shark than Gino was as a bully, Antonio was in middle school. Gino convinced him that if they teamed up, Antonio could earn enough money to buy the PlayStation he wanted plus all the games he could possibly play, and an uneasy partnership was born; eventually morphing into the fucked up relationship they had today.
Which, until he met Phoebe, had been fine and dandy. He’d been—mostly—perfectly comfortable doing his job and pretending he didn’t know what Gino really did to earn all that coin. To make that damn ulcer worse, he’d rekindled his friendship with Margot, had reconnected with his niece.
Suddenly, he wanted to be a good guy, for all of their sakes.
Except he couldn’t. He could never escape this life he’d created for himself, and there was no way he would ever bring Phoebe into it. Not any further in than she already was, at any rate. It was time to cut her off, to walk away, before either of their hearts got any more entangled.
But not tonight. He needed her. Just one more time.
Like an addict, that’s what he kept telling himself.
“I’m all sweaty,” Phoebe said, extracting herself from his hold.
“Exactly how I like you.”
She laughed. “Not the right kind of sweaty. I just got back from a jog. I need a shower.”
“Excellent.” He rubbed his hands together. “I’ll join you.”
“Tempting, but how about you get dinner going instead? I’m starved.”
“Yesterday you wanted sex first; today it’s food. Will you ever make up your mind?” he teased with an exaggerated eye roll.
She snickered. “Have to keep you on your toes.” She dropped a kiss on the tip of his nose. “I’ll be quick.”
And then she took off in the direction of the bathroom while he headed to the kitchen to figure out what to whip up for dinner. Something quick. Tonight, he was in a hurry to cuddle with her. He wanted to drown in her affection; to forget about the reality of his life.
The squeak of the water being turned off was accompanied by a knock on the apartment door.
For some damn reason, he opened the door without checking the peephole first.
“Oh shit,” he said, and stood there staring at Margot, dressed in a simple yellow sundress, her hair twisted into a knot behind her head. Her eyes widened with recognition chased immediately by suspicion.
“What are you doing here?” she asked.
“I, uh…”
“Did I hear somebody at the door?” Phoebe called out from the bathroom.
He didn’t respond.
“Tony?”
“Tony?” Margot repeated. “You hate that name.”
He cleared his throat and yelled over his shoulder, “Yeah, I got it.” And then he turned back to Margot. “It isn’t what it looks like.”
“It isn’t?” She shook her head. “This is way too much of a coincidence. You know Phoebe’s the jogger who reported Nina was kidnapped, right? Wait, of course you do. You are related to him, after all. I can’t believe I trusted you.”
She started to storm away, but Antonio grabbed her arm. “She doesn’t know,” he said.
“Know what?”
“Who I am. That I’m connected to any of it.”
“So you’re lying to her. And here I thought you were a decent human being. But I’ve always been an idiot when it comes to Sarvilli men.” She tried to tug her arm out of his grip, but he didn’t let her go. He couldn’t. He needed her to understand. He hadn’t meant for any of this to happen. Not like this.
“Tony?” Phoebe’s voice was clearer now. She must be walking through the living room, heading their way.
Shit, shit, shit.
“Margot, you have to—”
“What are you doing?” Phoebe asked from directly behind him. “Why are you holding Margot like that?”
“I…” What the fuck was he supposed to say? Margot gave her arm another shake, and he finally let go, but she didn’t rush away like he half hoped she would. Maybe he could come up with an explanation if she had.
“Do you two know each other?” Phoebe asked, her brow furrowed. She’d dressed in a pair of gym shorts and a T-shirt, and her hair was still so wet water was dripping from the ends, soaking her top.
“Yeah, Antonio,” Margot said. “Do we?”
“Antonio?” Phoebe repeated, her mouth turning down.
“Goddamn it,” he muttered, glaring at Margot. “You’re going to fucking throw me under the bus, aren’t you?”
“No.” Margot shook her head. “But I am going to stand here and make you say it yourself.”
“Fuck.”
“Say what?” Phoebe asked. “Why are you calling him Antonio? How do you know him? Wait, you two aren’t…?” She looked at Margot. “Is he the lousy date?”
Margot’s laugh was hollow. “Not hardly.”
“Then what’s going on?” Phoebe demanded.
Antonio remained stubbornly silent. What the fuck could he say to make this right?
Nothing.
“Tell her, Antonio.”
“Why do you keep calling him Antonio?” Phoebe demanded. She twisted her head side to side and then whipped back around to stare at him, wide-eyed. “You showed up the day Nina was kidnapped,” she whispered.
Fuck me. And here her intelligence is one of the reasons I’m so attracted to her.
“You knew,” she continued. “You knew who I was. You even said it, that day. You said you saw me on TV. It was deliberate. Why? What’s the connection?”
She turned to Margot like she expected the other woman to spill the beans, but then she shifted her attention back to Antonio and her mouth fell open before she snapped it shut.
“Antonio. Margot said her ex-husband’s brother was named Antonio. Your niece. You work for your brother. You’re a financial planner. Oh my God. Oh my God.”
Antonio held his breath. Goddamn it, he never should have listened to his heart.
Because he was about to break hers.
10
And It All Comes Crashing Down
So this is what it feels like when your world implodes.
Phoebe couldn’t even look at Tony. Antonio. Whatever the hell his name was. He was a criminal, for crying out loud. Margot hadn’t corrected her when she’d joked about her ex being part of the mafia.
Dear God, was Tony, er, Antonio too?
“Why me?” she asked dully, her gaze fixated on the tree off in the distance. Margot stood to her left, Antonio on her other side. When no one said anything, she pulled her attention back to them. Margot was glaring daggers at Antonio, who looked utterly helpless. Like a freaking puppy.
No, don’t look his way, because then she might feel a twinge of sympathy and the man deserved none of it. Nothing.
“What did you gain by sleeping with me?” she asked.
“Nothing,” he said. “Sleeping with you had nothing to do with any of it. I did that because I wanted to. You have to believe me.”
“I don’t have to do anything,” she snapped. “You used me. You deliberately sought me out. And then you seduced me.”
“Hey, if you want to lay it all out there, I was deliberately trying to keep you at arm’s length. You’re the one who seduced me the first time.”
She closed her eyes. He was right. Whic
h was humiliating as hell, because she played right into his stupid little game. Except it wasn’t a game to her.
“What? What was the purpose?”
“Because I like you. I’m attracted to you. I might be—”
“Don’t lie to me.” Her voice was one level below shouting. She caught movement, saw the curtain twitch in an apartment across the way. Great, now they had an audience. But she’d be damned if she’d let him into her apartment just to get away from prying eyes. He was no longer welcome. Not ever again.
“I’m not. Not about that. Please believe me, Phoebe. I swear, I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.” He sucked in a harsh breath. “Yes, I showed up here initially on my brother’s orders. He wanted me to find out how much you knew. If you had anything the cops could use against him. But that was only that first date, I swear. I told him you didn’t know anything, that you weren’t involved. That you didn’t even know who he was.”
“But I did.”
“Yeah, well, I didn’t know that until later, and by then I sure as hell wasn’t about to tell Gino.”
“Why not? That’s exactly what you were directed to do, wasn’t it?”
“Because I don’t give a shit about him. But I do care about you. And I know exactly what will happen if he suspects you of knowing anything. Anything.”
She watched as he turned his imploring gaze on Margot.
How close were they? Like brother and sister close or something else? No, Phoebe didn’t care.
She didn’t want to, at any rate.
“I didn’t even tell him that Proctor was involved,” he said to Margot, who thinned her lips. “Because I didn’t want him to go after Phoebe. Or you. I meant what I said the other day, Margot.”
The other day? He and Margot spent time together recently, and neither of them bothered to tell her?
“Did you know?” Phoebe asked her new friend. Or was she?
Margot shook her head. “If I’d known, I would have warned you.”
“But he just said you guys saw each other ‘the other day.’ What the hell does that mean?”