Busting In (Busted Series Book 1)

Home > Other > Busting In (Busted Series Book 1) > Page 8
Busting In (Busted Series Book 1) Page 8

by Vanessa M. Knight


  No. Jessi closed the distance, coming up behind Dick. She hefted the length of driftwood back over her shoulder, thinking hard about the few times she’d played softball in gym class. Okay, she’d been terrible at it, but Dick’s head was bigger than a softball and—best of all—more or less not moving. Using every bit of energy she had, she swung the driftwood around until it met his head with a solid crack. His body snapped sideways and he dropped to the sand, landing on his face.

  Using the driftwood, Jessi poked the gun out of his relaxed hand and kicked it to the side. “Enzo, are you okay?”

  He stood up, tilting a little before he found his balance. He picked up the gun and aimed it at a moaning Dick. “I’m fine.” Enzo snagged Jessi around her waist with his free hand and pulled her in to his side. He pressed his lips to hers. It was hot and demanding and full of much more than just lust. She could feel love and trust and worship in the way he held and moved his lips against hers.

  His tongue slid along her lower lip and into her mouth—claiming her—maybe even thanking her for saving them both. He pulled away. “I told you to run.”

  Okay. Maybe not a thank you. “I couldn’t let him hurt you.”

  “Thank you.” He smiled and looked over at the asshole writhing on the ground trying to get up. “We should call the cops.”

  “I got it.” Jessi pulled out the phone, but stopped. The adrenaline that had kept her going had somehow seeped out. Her body felt heavy as a burp escaped. She turned away from Enzo. Her stomach roiled, and the fungus she ate for dinner came out in a brown, chunky wave, landing on Dick.

  She waited for more, but her stomach didn’t rumble. Until the smell hit her. That was so bad. Scratch that, Dick covered in vomit smelled so bad.

  She stepped back, hunching her shoulders.. “Sorry.” She wiped her mouth but couldn’t seem to keep her eyes up. She just threw up in front of Enzo. How could she do that? That wasn’t a first-weekend-knowing-each-other kind of thing. That was a five-years-of-marriage kind of thing.

  “Don’t be sorry. I was just going to commend you on perfect aim.” A huge smile spread across his face. He wasn’t grossed out. “Are you okay?”

  She looked up and into his eyes. There was humor and love and concern. She wanted to run over and kiss him. But that was not going to be happening until she had a toothbrush, mouthwash, and a breath mint—preferably all three. Twice.

  “I’m fine.” She dialed the police. The sooner they were rid of the Dick, the sooner she could clean her mouth and get that kiss.

  Eight

  Four hours later, Jessi sat in the front seat of Enzo’s car, hating that they were heading toward her house. She didn’t want to go home.

  After the night they’d had, she wanted to spend one more night wrapped in his arms—okay she wanted to spend ALL the nights wrapped in his arms— but that wasn’t realistic. She couldn’t just move in with him. She’d known him for two days.

  But wouldn’t that be nice? Moving out of her mother’s place was like a dream—maybe a fantasy. Newly-employed people didn’t get to rent their own place. Not without last and first month’s rent.

  “How’s your stomach feeling?” Enzo rested his hand on her middle like he was checking for a baby. She was spending way too much time with her mother if that was the first thing that came to mind.

  “It’s fine.” She’d managed to only get sick the one time. And thankfully the cops had been able to find her mouthwash and gum. She felt a little less gross. Although a good body and teeth scrubbing was in her future.

  Enzo put his hand back on the wheel. “I’m sorry about dinner.”

  “Don’t be. It was delicious.” She hadn’t known what she was missing not eating mushrooms. But now she did. Even though she got a bit sick, she wasn’t completely convinced it wasn’t worth it. They had been so good. Good to know for next time she was at some high-priced restaurant. Not that she’d ever be at one of those again. Enzo might not want to see her again—she apparently had some allergy drama.

  “I meant, I’m sorry about after dinner.”

  “We do tend to have interesting dates that include being held at gunpoint.”

  Enzo pulled up to her house and stopped the car. “We should try this again, without the guns.”

  “I’d like that.” Although she’d like to not leave and just see him continuously—she was such a sap. A boy gave her one orgasm—okay, five orgasms—and now she was a lovesick puppy following him around waiting for scraps.

  Not that what he gave was scraps.

  He leaned over, and his breath mixed with hers. A smile lit up his face, giving new meaning to drop-dead gorgeous. Her heart raced. And the air that should have been in her lungs wedged in her throat.

  She wanted his kiss. She needed his touch like her next inhale of oxygen. His tongue crept out and rubbed along the bottom rim of his lip. His breath wisped along her cheek as he leaned in. Closer and closer. The smell of him, musk and cinnamon, wrapped around her nose and infiltrated her brain.

  Take me to your place tickled at the back of her throat. But then she thought about tonight and all that had come out of her mouth, so she said, “Are you sure?”

  “Yes.” And then he was there. His lips touching hers. The warmth of his hand resting on her cheek. All the feels zinged through her veins as he pulled her closer, the kiss turning deeper.

  His tongue slid along her lip, creating a white-hot need in her belly. Anticipation. Every caress of his hand and every twist of his head to delve deeper and deeper into the world’s most perfect kiss singed her blood. His hands rested on her chest, his thumb strumming along the sensitive skin. Her hips angled toward him, begging for that strumming to inch its way down…

  A knock on the car window and the inching stopped, but the hands were still on her body. They both looked at the door, but the windows were hazed. Thank goodness, or someone would have gotten one hell of a show.

  He pulled away as she straightened her clothes. “Ready?” He hit the button for Jessi’s window after she nodded her head.

  “Can I help you?” He asked as the person outside came into view.

  Her mother was wearing the angry face—pinched, narrowed eyes and pursed lips. Kind of like the look Jessi had given Enzo the night he’d met her at Busted. Although this time her mother’s glare felt personal. She was either livid or she just ate another under-ripe lychee.

  Her mother whipped open the car door. “Get out of the car.” She hissed out the order like Jessi was some teenager caught getting felt up by a boy. Which—she was technically getting felt up—by a boy. But to be fair, she hadn’t been a teen in years. “Now, young lady.”

  Someone needed to tell her mother that apparently.

  “Give me a minute, Mom.”

  “No minute.” She stood at the door and crossed her arms. She was little, but the fire in her eyes was mighty. “Come inside now.”

  No matter how mighty, Jessi refused to just jump. She turned to Enzo and felt the laugh bubble and stop in her throat. This wasn’t a laughing matter. No matter how much she wanted to. “I should go.”

  Enzo’s eyes were wide and he couldn’t seem to stop staring at her mother. The look of pure terror was funny—until she realized she’d probably never see him again. Who wanted to deal with a woman whose mother instilled fear?

  “I’m really sorry about this,” Jessi said.

  “Is that the boy from your work?” Her mother leaned in the car. “Are you her boss? You can’t sleep with your boss.”

  “He’s not my boss.”

  “I’m Lorenzo Antonio Borelli.” He reached across Jessi and offered his hand to her mother. His breath was warm. His body hot. Was it wrong that was what floated through her mind while her mother helicoptered at the curb? Was it wrong that she was turned on with him this close?

  But then her mother spoke and all the turned-on became a huge turn-off. “Are you her boss?” Her mother stared at his hand like it was coated in chlamydia.

  Ap
parently, Jessi stating he wasn’t her boss wasn’t enough.

  “No, ma’am.”

  “Who are you?”

  “Mom. He’s Enzo. My boyfriend.” She glared back at her mother. “Let me say good-bye.”

  Enzo finally turned to Jessi, the fear replaced by humor. “I haven’t been caught by a parent in years.” His voice was coated in awe.

  “Yeah.” Her either. She was normally smarter than this. She normally didn’t let any man near her mother—or she supposed it was vice versa. “Will I see you again?”

  “Well, I am your boyfriend. So yeah.” He raised his thumb to her cheek before he looked over at her mom and dropped his hand. Her mother was where romance went to die. At least Jessi’s romance.

  “Good night.” She kissed his lips. Quick. Soft.

  “Good night.”

  She slid out of the car and her mother slammed the door. The lights of Enzo’s car blinked and dipped as he pulled away from the curb.

  Jessi walked up the front steps to their building, her mother following behind her like she was afraid Jessi might make a break for it.

  If only.

  Jessi death-marched down the nondescript hall and up the stairs to their second-floor apartment. She was safe until they got inside. Her mother wasn’t going to open a can of crazy on her in the hallway. Not where the neighbors could hear.

  Slipping in the door after Jessi, her mother closed it and spun around. “What were you thinking? I thought I taught you better than this. You can’t go running around the city with strange boys—staying out all night with them…”

  Jessi tuned out the “strange boys” monologue. Her mom had this obsession with “strange boys”. If it wasn’t so annoying, Jessi would feel guilty. She understood—her father had convinced her mother he’d loved her, and then turned into a controlling jerk. In her mother’s mind they were all liars, pretending to be one thing until they got one thing. Then they showed their true colors.

  “You know those boys only want one thing,” her mother said, right on cue. “Then they think they can do what they want. That boy is a player.”

  “He’s not like that.” Anger built in Jessi’s veins. Enzo was nothing like that.

  Her mother would know that if she got to know him. If she took five minutes to just talk to Enzo she might find out more. But why get to know him? In her mind all men were the same—boys trapped in a man’s body.

  It wasn’t fair to them. It wasn’t fair to Jessi.

  “You don’t know what he’s like,” her mother insisted. “You never know.”

  “So, what, Mom? Do I never try to get to know anybody?”

  “Don’t be smart with me—be smart with them. You don’t spend the whole weekend with strangers. That’s how you end up alone and pregnant.”

  Alone and pregnant. It all came back to what her father had done. She was so tired of paying for her father’s sins. She didn’t even like the man. She never saw him. And she would never choose a guy like him. “Enzo is not Dad. I would not be dumb enough to fall for someone like Dad.”

  Her mother’s wide-eyed shock was a knife to Jessi’s heart. She didn’t talk about her ex-husband much. He’d hurt her. Not that she’d admit it. She might have kicked him out, but it was his manipulating and controlling that made her do it. She said he’d never been that way when they were dating—not even after they married. But once she was pregnant he’d changed.

  And here was Jessi rubbing it in her mother’s face that she’d trusted the man who turned out to be nothing more than a sperm donor. She was such a shitty daughter.

  Her mother straightened, face composed again. “This has nothing to do with your father.”

  It never had anything to do with her father—at least in her mother’s world of denial. Jessi wouldn’t bring that up, though. She couldn’t. She’d already done enough damage to the one parent who stuck around to raise her. If Mom wanted to believe that her ex hadn’t affected her and the way she saw men, Jessi would oblige.

  “I’m sorry, mom. I just want you to get to know Enzo before you judge him.” She sat on the white rattan chair in the corner. “He’s a good guy.”

  “A good guy doesn’t let you stay all night before he meets her mother.”

  “You met him at work.” Probably not the right thing to say.

  “That. Job.” She said the words with such contempt. She looked like she wanted to discuss just how contempt-full she found Jessi’s job.

  Nope. “It’s my job and I like it. And I should get to bed. I have to get up early to get to that job.” Jessi walked up to her mom and wrapped her arms around her. “I love you, Mom.”

  “I love you, too.” Her mother pulled her close and played with the white collared shirt that she wore over her walk of shame dress. “Where did you get this shirt?”

  “Store.” Jessi pulled away and headed to her bedroom before her mom could ask any more questions. She didn’t want to another round of Enzo-bashing when her mother found out it was his shirt. Jessi could just hear it. A good guy doesn’t lend you his shirt before he meets your third cousin twice removed.

  Ugh.

  She made it to her bedroom without further drama and sat on her twin size bed. It wasn’t a bad room. A little small. Her bed, a small dresser and a desk. Basic. Utilitarian. The bonus was a big walk-in closet.

  She pulled off Enzo’s shirt and held it to her nose. It still smelled like him. There’s no way her mom hadn’t noticed.

  She grabbed a pair of pajamas and a towel from her closet. She needed a shower. She stood at the door and waited for her mother’s bedroom door to close. She didn’t want to listen to another lecture on Enzo or boys.

  Her mother’s door clicked shut. The hallway was safe. She needed to get out of her mother’s house. Out from under her thumb. She needed a chance to live her life. And living her life reminded her of Enzo—with him she got that chance.

  She’d had fun with him, even if their dates had been unconventional. She liked him. Hopefully, whatever was going to take him away to New York wouldn’t last very long. He wasn’t even gone yet and she was missing him. Too much.

  Nine

  A week and a half later, Enzo sat behind his desk at the firm working on a client’s defense for court next week. He should have had this completed two days ago, but his mind just wasn’t into it. His mind was into Jessi. All the time. Pathetic.

  He should just forfeit his man-card now. Pining over a woman he’d seen every night for the past two weeks. Not that he was complaining. He liked to see her, but this thinking about her was just silly.

  He should have gotten her out of his system by now. He should be bored. But no. She intrigued him. She was clever and sarcastic—and her body? He pushed out a breath. She was the whole package. And he liked everything about that package, which was why he’d made sure he was with her every spare moment.

  That they’d had any moments after he’d dropped her off the first night was a miracle. The way her mother glared was scary. Needless to say, he’d stayed clear of the Xu family home.

  At the knock on the door, Enzo’s head flew up, half expecting a Chinese woman with X-ray eyes ready to zap him into oblivion for stealing away her daughter. But it was just his boss. Although that wasn’t much better. He still hadn’t had a chance to talk to him about the Welford named plastered on that list.

  His boss smiled. Enzo was back in his good graces—at least for now—since Enzo had fixed the Johnson case.

  “Enzo, my boy.” Stanley Welford strolled into the office. He didn’t wait for an invite. Since he owned everything in the room, including the four walls, he didn’t need an invitation. “I’ve been wanting to talk to you for the past week. The mayor was delighted you were able to help remove Richard Swift from his organization. Great job.”

  “Thank you, sir.” He liked that he’d help the mayor while helping his client, but he still had questions.

  “I think we need to talk about the Johnson case,” Welford said, sitting d
own across from Enzo and unbuttoning his suit jacket. “You handled it well. Getting that list was a huge win for us.”

  Enzo had known this talk was coming. The list was a huge win, and the case against their client had been dropped. It was sad when blackmail was needed for someone to tell the truth, but it was what it was. That list had also brought up a lot of questions, though. Questions Enzo hadn’t had a chance to ask. Questions Enzo was afraid to know the answers to—which was probably why he hadn’t tracked down Welford to find those answers.

  “Do you have any questions for me about the case?”

  Welford had never asked if Enzo had any question about a case before, so Enzo wasn’t sure why he was asking him this now. Although—maybe he did know why.

  He took a breath. “Yes. The name Stanley Welford was on the donation list.” If his boss gave six figures to the mayor, that didn’t mean he was guilty of anything. The firm’s high-profile cases and multi-million-dollar contracts were due to hard work and reputation.

  Welford smiled. “I thought you might have noticed that.” Who wouldn’t have noticed that? “Do you remember my cousin Lee? He was at the holiday party last year.”

  “Dressed as Santa.”

  “Yes. He’s a good man, but troubled.”

  Enzo didn’t quite understand the point of the story. The list didn’t have a Lee Welford.

  “Stanley is a family name. My mother got pregnant first, so she used the name. Her sister didn’t like that, so she named her firstborn Stanley as well. He goes by Lee, but technically his name is Stanley.” When Enzo didn’t say anything, Welford sighed. “Remember last year when I was dropped from my health insurance? That was because Lee switched jobs. It was a nightmare.”

  Enzo did remember that. It was a huge debacle at the time. And to be fair, Enzo had lived through something similar. There were at least two other Lorenzo Borelli’s in Chicago; one of them went to Enzo’s gym for a while. After constantly dealing with backlash from the other Lorenzo’s aversion to paying his bills, Enzo changed gyms and started using his nickname on everything.

 

‹ Prev