One corner of his mouth lifted. “You got some balls on you.” He laughed. “I’m going to have fun with you.”
She lifted her chin. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
He placed a finger under her chin, holding it there. “Gimme a kiss to seal the deal.”
Her heart hammered against her rib cage. “I will not.”
“We have to seal the deal somehow,” he said. “Besides you got me a little worked up the way you sat in my lap and offered me a huge job. Kinda turned my night around.”
She huffed. “I did not sit in your lap.” She slapped his finger away. “You said my kiss didn’t do anything for you.” The words still stung.
He smirked, but his large warm hand cupped her cheek, and her eyes closed on their own. “It’s for you,” he said.
Her eyes flew open. “You are so full of yourself!”
He gave her a devious knowing smile. “Let’s go, partner.”
She frowned and grabbed her purse.
He broke into a wide smile. “I like when you follow orders.”
That did it. “Listen, I don’t care if you’re the only life vest in this hell I found myself in, I don’t take orders from anyone!”
He turned her and said in a low voice, “Move it.”
She stayed stock-still to prove her point. No order taking here. His arm snaked around her waist and then he lifted her, tucking her like a football against his hip, and carried her out. Her cheeks flamed as people in the crowded restaurant stared, mouths open. She wanted to kick and scream, but she was wearing a dress. “Put me down,” she hissed.
He whistled on the way to the car. Then he set her down by the passenger side and opened her door for her. “Get in.”
She crossed her arms. “How dare you! I won’t—”
His voice rumbled in her ear, low and dangerous. “Easy way or the hard way?”
She flushed and got in the car. As soon as they pulled into the street, she let him have it. “Don’t you ever lay a hand on me again!”
He glanced at her. “Damn, if you could see yourself now. Your cheeks are pink, your eyes dilated, your breathing is coming a little harder. I think you like my hands on you.”
“Think again!”
He stopped at a red light and his eyes met hers with an unholy gleam. “Can I be honest?”
She licked her lips. “What?”
“Strictly between us, forget all that work stuff—” he waved that away “—from one sexy beast to another…”
She choked on a laugh. “Continue.”
One corner of his mouth lifted. “I’d bet good money your pansy-ass boyfriends never give you what you need.”
She gripped the edge of her seat. “And what exactly do you think I need?”
“You need someone to take charge, someone that gets you out of your head and makes you…” He stopped and turned back to face the road, the words just hanging there.
“Makes me what?” She was suddenly desperate to find out what she needed because Vince was right. Her past boyfriends always left her unsatisfied.
He hit the accelerator and turned the radio on, driving along as if he’d lost interest in the conversation.
She stewed for a few minutes, then finally turned the radio off. “Makes me what? You have to finish your sentence.”
“Nah. I’m done messing with you.” He slapped the steering wheel. “Back to business.”
“Just one more minute with the sexy beast. Tell me!”
He chuckled; then he dropped his voice, low and seductive. “Makes you let go.”
“I-I…oh.” His hungry gaze made her almost forget the position she was in. She needed to work with him, to make their businesses work together.
At her silence, he asked, “When was the last time you lost control?”
Never. Never was the last time. She was the strong capable one that ran around fixing things for everyone else—her family, her friends, her pansy-ass boyfriends.
She swallowed hard. “This conversation is ridiculous. I’m sorry I made you finish that stupid sexy-beast sentence.” She gripped the edge of her seat tighter. “And, by the way, I’m not into being carried around like a football.”
His voice was low, scraping her insides, making everything tighten. “Tell me what you’re into.”
She forced her fingers to let go of the seat, feigning indifference. “I’m fine, thank you.”
She never should’ve indulged in this inappropriately hot conversation. Obviously, Vince had called her sexy just to lure her down the seduction path. He was a player. She knew it the moment she laid eyes on that lumberjack body. If she ever slept with him, which she wouldn’t, he’d be out of there so fast the sheets would still be burning.
What would that be like? Burning up the sheets. She looked out the window, away from his massive hand casually controlling the steering wheel.
She didn’t need him for that. She met nice men all the time. Men that weren't so physical, so in your face, so rough around the edges. Rugged. Strong. The throbbing between her legs was a major distraction. Vince was out of line, and it was time to put him back in his place, especially with the way he was cheerfully whistling right now like he wasn’t hot and bothered by this conversation at all. Probably just another day at the office for him.
“I’ve got your number,” he said.
A thrill went through her. Did he? Did he really know what even she hadn’t realized she craved, until now?
“You mean my phone number,” she said to clarify.
“If it makes you feel better to think that.” He turned the radio back on and found a station with a hard, pounding bass beat that matched the throbbing between her legs.
It was a short drive back to the library parking lot, where she’d left her car, and she debated continuing the outrageous, but intriguing sexy-beast conversation even as common sense told her to drop it. He wasn’t all that. Just because he looked like an Italian lumberjack straight from an L.L.Bean catalog didn’t mean he was any different from any other man. He was bluffing. He couldn’t possibly know her or what she wanted. She barely knew that about herself.
She bit her lip as he pulled up next to her car. It was dark, but she always parked by a streetlight and it lit up one side of his face. He was so beautiful—chiseled cheekbones, full lips, a strong nose and jaw. The other side of his face in shadow—dark and mysterious. She was tempted, so tempted.
“Well, goodnight,” she said in a cheery tone as if she wasn’t damp and throbbing and craving. Omigod, the craving. She got out of the car in a hurry, and he got out too, walking with her to her car. She pretended not to notice him, got out her key, and struggled to unlock the car door. Her stupid hand was shaking, jittery at his proximity.
“Sophia.”
She didn’t want to turn around. She was afraid she’d cave. This was wrong, wrong, wrong.
His hand connected with her bottom gently, and she squeaked. He did a slow, sensual up and down stroke, and her knees went weak as the throbbing became more insistent. “Sorry if I spoke out of turn,” he said. “Friends?”
She nodded automatically, unable to speak when all she could think to say was more, please.
“We’ll call that sealing the deal,” he said with a smile in his voice. Probably a smirk too.
She whirled. No way in hell they were sealing the deal with a butt rub. “You’ve got some nerve!”
He grinned. “I knew you’d be fun.” Then he backed away, still grinning all cocky-like. “See you soon, partner.”
Chapter Eight
Vince showed up at his parents’ house in Eastman for Sunday family dinner prepared to act the part of diplomat. He knew his dad wouldn’t be keen on working with Capello Construction, to put it mildly, but from where Vince was standing, it was a valid business decision. He’d told his dad he’d gotten the job, and he’d be bringing the papers today. What he hadn’t told him was that they were the subcontractor. Sophia had gotten everything in writing from the town, naming Marino an
d Sons as their subcontractor, and signed the papers on behalf of Capello Construction. Vince couldn’t sign because he still wasn’t full partner. That rankled, but he hoped his dad would see that he’d earned it. He’d salvaged the library project and, if things went well with the library project, a merger of the two companies could also be good for business. They’d take out their main competitor, making bidding on projects easier. Plus they’d make some headway into residential development and even get into historic places. Once the details were worked out, a merger could work very well for them going forward.
He’d given a lot of thought to what Sophia had said about ending the hostilities between the two families and finally concluded she was right. Did he really want to be responsible for continuing the feud down another generation? That was no way to run a business, especially in this competitive, but lucrative market. Though he knew better than to bring that up with his dad. He didn’t want to hear another tirade about the horrible Joe Capello. He knew the man was aggressive and lowballed them, but at least now they had a solution to that problem. If he could make his dad listen long enough to hear reason. A stretch where Capello was concerned.
His petite blond stepmother answered the door. “Vince, so glad you could make it.”
“How’re ya, Ma?” He leaned down to kiss her cheek.
“I’m good. Better now that my boys are coming home.”
“Everyone coming today?”
“As far as I know.”
“Good.” Vince figured he’d bring up the partnership idea in front of his family so his dad wouldn’t fly off the handle. Especially if his new daughter-in-law, Zoe, was there. His dad was crazy about Zoe.
“Is that Vincent?” his dad hollered from the other room.
“Yeah, it’s me.” Vince followed the voice to the kitchen, where his dad quickly returned a beer to the fridge, looking guilty. “One beer won’t kill ya.”
His dad shook his head. “Your stepmom’s been watching me like a hawk. I’m done with chemo, but she’s a little on edge about my diet.”
Vince understood. They’d all had a real scare when his dad had been diagnosed with stage three colon cancer, but the docs were hopeful that he was in the clear. He felt kinda bad for him having to sneak his favorite drink. He took a seat in the living room, where he was joined shortly by Gabe and Zoe, who his parents made a big fuss over on account of the grandchild-to-be.
“How’s little Vince?” he asked.
Zoe beamed. “We picked a name, but we’re not telling you all until after he’s born.”
“And it’s not Vince,” Gabe put in.
“What’s wrong with Vincent?” his dad asked. “Good enough for me and this guy.” He hooked a thumb in Vince’s direction. Vince was a Junior.
“Vincent the third,” Vince said. “Has a nice ring to it.”
“That’ll be your kid,” Gabe said.
Vince scoffed. Like he’d ever get married. He got bored quickly and couldn’t imagine being tied down to one woman his whole life like Gabe. He watched his brother for a moment, his hand on Zoe’s stomach, whispering something to the baby. Vince’s chest ached, and he rubbed it absentmindedly. Zoe giggled. He couldn’t resist going over to put in his two cents to the baby.
“How ya doing, big guy?” he asked. “It’s your uncle Vince, your godfather.”
“Ooh, he kicked!” Zoe said, eyes wide. “I think he recognizes your voice.”
“Course he does,” Vince said. “I can’t wait to teach you to throw a pass. And catch. You’re going to be a prodigy on account of me.”
Zoe smiled. “You’ll make a good dad.”
He raised a brow. “I’ll make a good godfather. That’s not the same thing.”
“You seeing anyone?” Zoe asked. “Maybe I could set you up with a friend.”
Gabe chuckled, and Vince shot him a dark look. “I don’t need any help meeting someone. Thanks anyway.”
Nico walked in with Angel. “It’s not meeting someone Vince needs help with,” Nico said with a smirk. “It’s keeping them.”
He socked Nico on the arm and grinned. “Like you should talk.” Nico was nearly his height, though not built for football like Vince and their dad, with short dark brown hair and dark brown eyes. Women fell all over themselves for Nico, especially when he smiled. The wicked player smile with a touch of charm was a look his brother had perfected as a teen in front of the mirror.
“By choice, man,” Nico said.
“How you feeling, Dad?” Angel asked. His youngest brother was lean with hardly any muscle and a good five inches shorter than Vince. He had the angelic demeanor of a priest with wavy dark brown hair, soft brown eyes, and a dimpled smile. It was surprising to everyone that he hadn’t become one. Instead he was a social worker. He helped a lot of people for very little pay. Angel always said the work itself was reward enough.
“Fine, fine,” their dad said. “Angel, come help me in the kitchen. I’m making chicken marsala.”
“I’ll help too,” Zoe said, following them into the kitchen. Their mom followed Zoe in, chatting away with her.
“How’s the library project going?” Gabe asked Vince. “Still butting heads with the supermodel?”
“What’s this?” Nico asked. “You got a supermodel?” He gave Vince a one-two punch to the gut. “Good for you! Does she have a sister? Or better yet, a twin?”
Nico was such a horndog. Worse than Vince.
Vince elbowed Nico. “There’s no supermodel.” But she is beautiful, he added silently. His mind wandered to the last time he’d seen Sophia, how she’d gotten a little worked up, all pink-cheeked and flustered. He hadn’t missed her hand shaking when she’d tried to unlock her car door. The feel of her curvy ass. He shouldn’t have touched her. She’d gotten him worked up a bit, pressing up against him in that booth, and he’d wanted to turn the tables and put her in her place. Instead he’d gotten even more worked up. A problem he had to take care of solo once he got home.
But it wasn’t just her looks, or the chemistry that he could tell went both ways. The more time he spent with her, the more he liked her. She was fun to spar with, she was smart, and, like him, she had a strong loyalty to family, however screwed up they were. This liking-the-enemy’s-daughter problem wasn’t going away, and while he would normally follow his lustful impulses, he knew, just knew, it would screw things up for him business-wise. His dad didn’t take him seriously as it was; if he found out he’d slept with the person they were supposed to be doing business with, and his arch-rival’s daughter to boot, he’d never be trusted to take over the company.
“Library project is getting there,” Vince told Nico. “I’m going to talk to Dad about it at dinner.”
Jared walked in. “I’m here. Let the party begin!”
“Dr. Bozo,” Vince boomed.
“Handy Vinny,” Jared shot back with a grin. He was fair like Gabe with dirty blond hair and green eyes, but taller than Gabe and more muscular.
Vince grinned back. “Cut anybody open today?” Jared could’ve easily been a mechanic, almost as good as Nico with cars and tools, but his biological dad pushed the books with his kids Gabe, Luke, and Jared. Jared did it all too—college, medical school, residency. He was damn proud of him.
“It’s Sunday,” Jared replied. “We let ’em rest. Who wants a beer? You, you.” He pointed around the room at all of them, got a few yeses and headed to the kitchen to fetch them.
“I hope Luke makes it,” Gabe said. “I wanted to ask him about college savings accounts.” Luke was a Wall Street guy. He specialized in hedge funds, but the family came to him with any and all money questions. He knew it all.
“You’re already opening an account?” Vince asked. “He’s not even born yet.”
“College is expensive,” Gabe said. “You’ve got to start early.”
“Then I should start saving while my kid’s still a sperm.”
“Wouldn’t hurt,” Gabe said.
They’d just sat down
to dinner when Luke joined them. “Sorry I’m late. The bridge traffic was terrible.” He lived in New York City. An hour drive with no traffic, but there was always traffic.
Everyone dug in to the food. His dad was the main cook around here, and his food was delicious. Vince waited for a lull in the conversation. Everyone liked to catch up when they got together for Sunday dinner, and their mom asked each of them in turn what was going on in their lives. She picked up right where they’d left off the last time, always remembering what each of them was up to. They’d lucked out getting her for a stepmom.
He still remembered when she’d first joined the family. Vince had been wishing for a mom for three years, every birthday wish, every penny in a fountain, he’d even searched for four-leaf clovers to make a wish on them too. His own mom had been sick for five years with ovarian cancer. He could only remember her as sick, he’d been four when she was diagnosed, nine when she died. They’d had a series of babysitters after she died, but what he wanted more than anything was a mom of his own. The kind he saw on TV, who cooked them dinner and tucked them in at night. When his dad brought Allie home and announced they were getting married, she’d taken the time to sit and talk with each of her new stepsons. It had just been her, not her three boys, which made her feel more like his new mom. She’d been so kind, so pretty, Vince couldn’t believe his wish had finally come true. But at twelve, he wasn’t about to admit any of his childish dreams.
She’d sat at the kitchen table with him and handed him chocolate chip cookies and a glass of milk. Just like on TV. He’d wolfed down the cookies immediately.
“How do you feel about having a new stepmom?” she’d asked.
“I don’t know,” he muttered, but on the inside he was excited.
“I could never replace your mom,” she said. “I know she was a very special lady.”
He stared at the table. “Yeah.”
“You can call me Allie if you want,” she said. “Or Mom. Whatever you’re comfortable with.”
He glanced up quickly to find her smiling. Somehow he just knew she’d like being called Mom. And, even though he knew he wasn’t honoring his mother like the priest said he should in the ten commandments, the words rolled right off his tongue. “I’ll call you Mom.”
Not My Romeo Page 7