Rock Hard Neighbor

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Rock Hard Neighbor Page 51

by Hart, Rye


  “I know about our daughter, Rose.”

  I looked over at her and her eyes widened. I watched her pale skin, that was once flushed with the pleasure I could bring her, grow paler than the snow falling outside. I felt a twinge of regret, exposing myself to her like this, but I had to press on.

  My daughter was at stake.

  “When I moved to the area a few months ago, I hired a private detective just to check up on you. To make sure you were all right after our encounter all those years ago. That’s how I know about our daughter.”

  Her jaw unhinged in shock, her chest panting as my words rendered her speechless.

  “You… live here?” she asked.

  “I do a lot of skiing here. It only made sense to have some sort of home here I could come to, instead of paying for those luxury spa resorts.”

  I wasn’t ready to tell her yet about the fact that I’d moved here to be close to her and that I was running from my past with the mob. I wasn’t ready to tell her about my nephew.

  I wasn’t ready to tell her any of that, just like she wasn’t ready to tell me anything about her, either.

  “I know she’s my daughter,” I said.

  I waited to see if she would contradict me and, when she didn’t, I breathed a sigh of relief. I turned my gaze back out through the window as the snow continued to pour harder and harder onto my truck. I knew if I didn’t let her go soon, we’d both be trapped here at least overnight.

  And while the idea of being trapped with her throbbed my cock to life again, I knew it would only frighten her more.

  My perfect little songbird, scared to sing her song for me.

  “She is,” she said. “But I didn’t contact you because of the note you left me. It was a very telling warning. That, coupled with the rumors of your background and your connections to organized crime, I thought it better to simply leave you be.”

  I kept my gaze hard out the window as I relaxed back into the seat of my truck.

  “I understand. But I do wish I would’ve had that time with her. Would it be possible for me to see her?”

  “I… honestly, I don’t know,” she said. “I’m a bit nervous about that. I don’t know what your intentions are, or where you are in your life, or what types of trouble you might bring into ours.”

  I nodded slowly, her words piercing me like one of the knives I had hanging on the walls of that room I’d led her into that night.

  That night that changed everything for me. For us. For my future.

  “You know, you didn’t exactly reach out to me either. I haven't heard from you all this time and, now, you just show up out of nowhere and want to see your daughter? What changed?”

  I’d almost forgotten how intelligent she was. How she could put pieces together, even if she didn’t understand she was piecing.

  “I won’t rest, knowing my blood is out there, and I have no ties to it. Family is the most important thing to me, more than anything else on this planet. And I look forward to proving that to you.”

  I turned my gaze toward her and I could see the doubts running through her mind. Her hands were squeezed in between her thighs, her body desperately trying to keep a grip on her nerves. But there was a strength about her, even as she trembled in my presence. There was a fire behind her eyes that wasn’t present the first time I’d ever gazed into them. She had a strong moral streak, I could tell, and I knew she would eventually relent.

  I knew she wouldn’t keep me from my daughter for long.

  “Okay,” she said. “I’ll let you see her, but only because it’s the right thing to do. Because she’s your daughter. Not because of… whatever just happened back there.”

  I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding and relief coursed through my system. We could talk about what happened in the diner at a later time. For now, I was simply reveling in a truth I didn’t realize I needed so desperately.

  My beautiful Rose would let me see my daughter and my heart thundered with joy while the snow slowly let up its furious downpour.

  Chapter Thirteen – Rose

  “The snow’s letting up,” I said.

  “It is.”

  “Would you like to follow me to my place?” I asked.

  I studied the way his face fell back into its stern expression. His strong jawline was present, even underneath the thick, trimmed beard. The way the flannel on his body pulled against his taut muscles called to me and, for a split second, I wasn’t looking at a man with a shadowy past. I wasn’t looking at the man who had taken my virginity without one ounce of regret. I wasn’t even looking at the man that had just made me come inside my own work establishment.

  Instead, I saw a shocked man, chomping at the bit to claim the only piece of family he seemed to have left. A man like him, with the life he led, must’ve seen many people he loved dearly die, and there was a part of me that didn’t want to keep him from her. Or keep him from the family he unknowingly created.

  I slid from the truck and walked around to my car. The taillights of his car were on my body, and I unlocked my car as I went to turn it on. I kicked up the warmth, trying to get the ice off my windshield, and I grabbed my scraper.

  But when I looked up, he was already out of his truck, scraping the ice off my windshield while I sat in the warmth of my car.

  “Camillo,” he said.

  “What?” I asked.

  “I suppose we should introduce ourselves,” he said, grinning.

  His eyes connected with mine from behind the windshield he was clearing, and I couldn’t help but let out a laugh. I felt a bit of the tension release between us and, for the first time since he’d walked into the diner, I watched his shoulders release.

  “I suppose we should,” I said as I stepped out of the car. “Rose Brugman.”

  “Camillo Moretti.”

  I held my hand out and he took it, shaking it with a firm grip. His hand held onto mine tightly and, even from beneath the gloves, I could feel a spark between our bodies. The flames roaring in my toes shot up my spine, prickling my arms as I let go of his grasp.

  Had I not known any better, I could’ve sworn he was smirking at me.

  “Get back in the car,” he said. “It’s too cold for you to be out.”

  Grateful for his words, I slipped back in and shut the door. My car was warming up, and I sighed with relief, listening as he continued to scrape the ice off it. His demeanor came off as bossy, even though his actions were kind, but deep down, I kind of liked it. I had to make so many decisions for Ana and Kevin throughout the day that it was nice for someone else to take charge for a change. It was nice to not have to do anything but listen.

  In a way, it showed he cared about me. He cared enough to want to get me out of the cold. He cared enough to scrape off my windshield so I didn’t have to do it. It wasn’t much, but it was something and I held onto that something as I thought back to our moment in the diner.

  The way he glared at me. The way his hands felt around my wrists. The way my body came for him in an instant, just because he wanted it.

  When I opened my eyes, he was no longer there, and I panicked. Where had he gone? Then his truck lights flickered at me, commanding me to pull out so he could follow me.

  I watched him in my rearview mirror all the way back to the house. As I got closer and closer, I realized just how rundown our house truly was. It was two stories and, at one point in time, it shined with the glory of familial love but, over the years, it had withered away. I couldn’t keep it up the way my father had, nor did I have the money to pay someone to do it.

  I was suddenly embarrassed. Would he think it wasn’t suitable for his daughter? Would he try to take her when he saw what she was living in? It was the best I could do under the circumstances, and I felt tears rise to my eyes as I pulled into the driveway.

  Camillo was rich and, if the rumors were true, living in a shitty house wouldn’t be agreeable to him. I jumped out of my car and rushed inside, panicked with the decision
I’d just made as I walked into the madhouse. Kevin was blaring music and Cassie was burning dinner. Ana was tearing out pages in a dictionary I didn’t even know we had and scattering the bits all across the carpet. The smoke from dinner was filling the kitchen and I cut the stove off, glaring at Cassie and telling her to back away.

  Then, I went to the bottom of the stairs and began yelling.

  “Kevin! Turn that shit off!”

  “But it’s the best part!”

  “Then turn it down,” I yelled. “Now!”

  I scooped Ana up into my arms and she giggled with delight. I handed her to Cassie and threw her disgusting, burnt soup down the drain.

  “I’ve made a decision I’m still not sure about, so I need you to trust me,” I said.

  “What’s going on?” she asked. “Is something wrong? Are you okay?”

  “I don’t have time to explain. Get upstairs with Kevin and keep him entertained. Please keep the noise down and shut the kitchen door. I’ll explain once he’s gone.”

  “He?” she asked, her eyebrows raising in surprise. “Who’s ‘he’?”

  “Cassie, just do it. Please.”

  I washed the remnants of the soup down the drain and piled the dishes in the sink. I sprayed some perfume around the room, hoping to disguise the stench, and I turned on the oven fan. Cassie was looking at me wildly as she stepped out of the kitchen, shutting the door and closing off the ripped-up paper in the living room before she ventured upstairs. I cooed lightly in Ana’s ear, bouncing her in my arms while she giggled and clung to me.

  I turned around from the mess in the sink and saw Camillo standing there, his eyes bright as he looked fondly upon the child in my arms.

  “Ana, there’s someone I’d like you to meet,” I said lightly in her ear. “His name is Camillo. He’s a friend of Mommy’s.”

  I nodded my head for him to come in but he stayed just at the door. He closed it behind him, not wanting to let the little bit of heat we had out into the nighttime sky. I could tell by the way he was staring at her that it was love at first sight. The hard expression he usually wore faded away, softening his intense jawline and sparkling his eyes.

  In that very moment, the warmth that spread throughout my chest was unmistakable. The way he was looking at his daughter melted my insides and I knew that I’d made the right decision.

  “Hello, Ana. I must say, you are very beautiful.”

  The way he spoke to her melted my heart, and I had to keep blinking in order to keep my tears at bay. Ana waved at him, making him smile, and the beauty of his bright smile lit up his entire face. His features came to life and his body arched toward her, his hand reaching out for her while she reached for his finger.

  I watched as she wrapped her little fingers around his massive one, smiling even bigger as his eyes sparkled in her direction. It was the first time I’d ever seen this expression on his face and I felt my stomach do a somersault. He was so handsome—like a fallen angel. Not a dark prince.

  “Your eyes are beautiful,” he said.

  “Blue!” Ana exclaimed.

  “Yes, you have blue eyes,” he said. “Wonderful, sky-blue eyes.”

  “Just like her father,” I said.

  He looked up at me and I could see a world of possibility swimming behind them. I started to wonder if the family he’d been going on about was something that could really happen. I figured he was just talking about a fantasy he once had—longing for a family that maybe he’d already lost.

  But as I stood in my rundown kitchen and watched him talk lovingly with our daughter, I wondered if it could be possible.

  Chapter Fourteen – Camillo

  I drove behind Rose all the way up to her house, but the farther we got from the diner, the more uneasy I became. We were getting into a part of town that was known for its run-down homes and I started to sit on the edge of my seat. Where in the world was my family living? As I pulled up behind Rose and parked my truck, I saw her scramble into the house.

  She was embarrassed about where she lived and what she could provide, that much was certain. I sat in my truck and took deep breaths, taking in the run-down, two-story home. I could tell it once stood proudly, maintained well, even though the paint was peeling. It had strong bones, just like my beautiful little songbird but, inside, it was probably in poor condition. Tired. Neglected.

  Just like Rose.

  I took my time getting out of my truck. I wanted her to know she had all the time in the world to present her life to me. I took a deep breath, allowing the cold to seep down my lungs. Then I shut my truck door loudly. I wanted to alert her to the fact that I was coming and I wanted her to understand that I didn’t care where she lived.

  If this was what she could provide, then she was doing a wonderful job. If she sacrificed herself and her dreams to put a roof over her family’s head, then that meant family was just as important to her as it was to me. I slowly approached the door, hearing a scramble behind it before Rose’s soft voice wafted through the wood.

  The moment I stepped into the house and saw the little girl in her arms, my hard heart roared back to life.

  The small girl’s big blue eyes were glowing while they stared at me. I stepped into the house and shut the door behind me, no longer caring about what the house might look like. I could see the worry in Rose’s eyes, even as she cooed softly into the ear of our daughter. The strength of a mother, even in times of worry, astounded me, and I was being shown just a fraction of the strength my beautiful princess had within her.

  I talked with the girl and reached out for her. She grabbed my finger, and I melted right there into the palm of her tiny little hand. I saw Rose’s eyes dancing around my face when she mentioned she had her father’s eyes and I held her gaze with a steely intensity that came naturally to me. She was willing to at least mention the idea of a father in front of her, which told me her stance had changed.

  The doubt and worry she had been experiencing slowly dissipated as I drank in her eyes.

  But then, she did something I didn’t expect. Ana held out her hands and launched herself at me. Rose’s eyes widened and she moved to catch the flying little girl, but I cradled her against my chest before Rose could get a handle on her.

  I planted kiss after kiss on top of her head as I took in her scent. She smelled like freshness. Like innocence. Like a purity even her mother didn’t quite exude. The weight of her in my arms felt like feathers floating against my body.

  And all the while, this small little treasure was nestling into my warmth.

  I could tell Rose was shocked, but she made no move to take the girl from me. Ana looked up at me with her bright blue eyes and her wide smile and she started babbling sentences that made little sense to me. I could catch some words here and there, but her toddler’s tongue twisted around others. It was like she was trying to hold a conversation, pausing and waiting for me to answer.

  So, I answered her as best I could.

  She continued talking and I continued nodding and, when Ana busted out in a fit of giggles, I couldn’t help but laugh with her. Her eyes sparkled with a life still unlived. With hopes and dreams still forming themselves in her mind’s eye. I was entranced by the whole of her. My eyes peeled over to Rose’s and, in an instant, I wanted to know everything.

  How much did she weigh when she was born? When was her birthday? Was she sick as an infant? Did she sleep well for her mother?

  I wanted to know all the little details I had missed out on.

  “Anastasia,” she said. “But we call her ‘Ana,’ for short.”

  Anastasia. In Greek, the word roughly meant “resurrection.” And honestly, I couldn’t think of a more fitting name. This child was an opportunity for the resurrection of what hung between Rose and myself. She was the binding force between us, something that I thought had been lost the moment I left her with that note in my bed. I hung onto Ana tightly while she continued to smile up at me and, in an instant, my eyes were back down onto my child
.

  My beautiful, perfect child.

  This was a moment of resurrection for Rose and me. A resurrection of our passion and our past. A resurrection of our connection and our blossoming curiosity about one another. It was a resurrection of a life we never thought possible with one another, a life we thought was lost when I left that room and she left the city.

  How fitting that the perfect combination of the two of us would embody that ideal.

  This was a chance for us to be reborn. As I looked into the eyes of my daughter, I felt myself being filled with something I never thought was possible in life.

  I felt myself being filled with the idea of a second chance.

  This idea thrilled me. The prospect of raising this daughter and watching her grow alongside the beauty and perfection that was her mother was thrilling. For the first time in my life, I felt I was trekking into new territory. I felt as if I was living out ideals and notions I thought were only possible in my dreams. But I knew the obstacles would be great. I knew my past was still out there, chasing me down while I ran from it. I knew my present would provide an even greater challenge, for living off the grid wasn’t for everyone.

  Would the mistakes and the enemies I’d made allow me to have a future with my family? Would the moves I’d made over the past few years be enough to keep them safe?

  How in the world would I convince her that a future was possible? How in the world would I ever convince Rose that I wanted a future with them? That I could provide it for them?

  Suddenly, I heard a commotion come down the stairs and I saw Rose’s face grow panicked. I handed Ana back to her and stood poised, stepping in front of them as the door flew open. I didn’t know what had her so nervous and I didn’t know what flooded that fear into her eyes, but I was determined to put a barrier between it and her. The door flew open and I recognized the two people standing there: the boy from the park and the young woman who had been beside Rose on the bench. They stood there, looking at me with their mouths parted in shock and it was then I felt Rose step out from behind me.

 

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