“Get dressed,” she ordered. “We don’t want to be late.”
He sighed and jammed a hand in his hair. “I can’t take communion, okay?”
She stopped, sweater in hand, just standing there in her pink bra and panties, looking like his wet dream. It was a good distraction from the way his stomach was doing a slow churn over what she was pushing him to admit.
“Why not?” she asked.
“Because I haven’t been to confession since I was nine years old.” You had to go to regular confession to take communion. And he had to be all fessed up by the baptism, where taking communion was mandatory. He wasn’t at all sure he’d make it there by February when the baptism was scheduled.
She pulled the sweater on. “So go to confession.”
He shook his head. “No amount of Hail Marys can make up for what I’ve done.”
Her brows lowered and a crinkle appeared in her forehead. “What did you do? It can’t be that bad.”
He stared at a point just over her shoulder and it all came out in a painful rush. “I broke the commandment. I didn’t honor my mother. I haven’t been to her grave to pay my respects since the funeral. I wished for a new mom while she was sick.” His throat closed up, and he took a deep breath. “I can’t even remember her healthy. When I got my stepmom, I thanked God for the new mom and started calling her mom. I was mad at my sick mom for being a crappy mom.” He sucked in a breath and waited to hear how horrible he really was in her eyes.
“You were just a kid,” she said.
His gaze snapped to hers. “Well, now I’m thirty-four, and I still haven’t visited her.”
She pulled on a skirt. “We’ll go.”
“I can’t.” He turned away and yanked on his briefs and jeans.
“I’ll go with you.”
“Soph, no. This is why I didn’t want to tell you all this. I’m never going.” He pulled on his shirt and headed down the hallway to the bathroom to wash up. Sophia joined him, brushing her teeth next to him at the sink.
She spit, rinsed, and looked at him in the mirror. “If you let me go with you to church today, I’ll stay at your place all week. Naked. Helluva commute back to the city in the mornings, but I’ll do it.”
He raised a brow. Naked at his place sounded really good. He could have her as much as he wanted and not have to wait for the weekend. What a negotiator.
He finished brushing and turned to her. “You handling me?”
She put a hand on her hip. “That’s right.”
“You got five minutes to pack, and then I’m tossing you over my shoulder, bag or no bag.”
Her eyes lit up.
“You like that idea, don’t you?” he asked, stalking her right out of the bathroom and into the bedroom.
“N-no.”
He grinned and tossed her over his shoulder. She squealed. He carried her to the full-length mirror hanging on the back of the door. “Look at you, monkey girl. You are so turned on right now.”
“Am not.”
He slid his hand between her legs, hot and wet. She moaned. Served her right for being all up in his business. She could just stay like that all through church, the little minx.
He set her down. “Go pack a bag, and I’ll handle you more at my place.”
“Will you show me your secret tower?” She was obsessed with the tower of the carriage house, which he hadn’t let her go in because it wasn’t safe.
“I’ve got a tower for you.”
“I mean it.”
He let out a noisy sigh of exasperation. “It’s not a secret tower. I’m all out of secrets with you.” Except for the one about your dad committing arson. He pushed that thought aside. He’d handle it before she knew a thing.
“Can I see it?”
“I told you it’s not safe. The floorboards have some rot. I haven’t gotten to it yet.”
“I’ll be careful.” She grabbed a brush off the dresser and brushed out her long silky brown hair. So beautiful.
He crossed to her, took the brush and did it for her. He stroked her hair with his hand after he brushed it, reveling in the silky feel.
“When will it be safe?” she asked.
This woman never gave up. She was as much a pit bull as her father.
“When I get some free time,” he said. “I’ve been busy with work and keeping you in line.” He swatted her ass.
“And being a good Catholic porcupine,” she teased.
He jabbed a warning finger in her face. “Don’t you tell. I’ll make you pay big time.” The only person who knew he was Captain Cuddle was Jared because he worked at the hospital. Vince had run into him unexpectedly one time in the parking lot and Jared had insisted on following him in to watch for a bit. Vince had threatened him with castration if he ever spoke a word about it. He hadn’t.
Sophia grinned, seeming unconcerned with his threats. “I won’t…as long as you stay on my good side.”
What a woman. Standing up to him, threatening him right back. Most people, man or woman, were intimidated by his size and his tough talk. He hauled her against him. “I want you so bad right now.”
She laughed. “I know.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Sophia sat next to Vince at church. They’d made it to the last service, so they missed seeing Jasmine, who went to the earlier one. Vince grew increasingly tense as it got closer to communion time. And when people finally started to go up for communion, herself included, he sat with his hands folded and head bowed. It slayed her. He had such a big heart—she could see that clear as day now—yet he was riddled with guilt because of some misguided sense of right and wrong. He’d been a kid when his mom died. Of course he’d wished for things to be different.
She returned to her seat and took his hand. She gave him a small smile that he didn’t return. She had to fix this. He couldn’t go to church, week after week, feeling terrible about himself. He’d done nothing wrong, and she was sure that a talk with the priest would clear things up. After church, she took Vince’s hand and led him to the line of people outside waiting to greet the priest. They were third in line.
“Let’s go,” Vince said, pulling her hand.
“Just a minute. I want to say hello.” She raised a hand and waved at the priest, making sure he knew she and Vince were waiting. Vince stopped pulling at her and stood there still as a statue.
Finally, it was their turn.
“Hello, Father,” Vince said. “My friend Sophia wanted to meet you. Sophia, this is Father Munson.”
She gave Vince a second look. He didn’t even want to call her his girlfriend to the priest? Father Munson shook her hand warmly. “Wonderful to meet you. I hope you enjoyed the sermon.”
The sermon had been about All Saints’ Day, which was what had been celebrated before Halloween. “Absolutely,” she said. “Father, can I ask you a personal question?”
“Of course. Should we step inside?”
She nodded. The priest greeted a few more people on his way back into the now empty church, and they followed in his wake.
“What is it, my dear?” Father Munson asked.
“Does honoring your deceased mother or father require visiting their grave, or is it enough to hold them in your heart?” Sophia asked.
Vince sucked in an audible breath.
“Holding them in your heart is all that’s required,” the priest said with a sympathetic look to Vince. “They know.”
“Thank you,” Sophia said. “I feel much better now.”
“Anytime.”
“Thank you, Father,” Vince said. “I’ll see you next Sunday.”
And then they were out the door, Vince pulling her down the long sidewalk and through the parking lot at an alarming speed. She could barely catch her breath. Finally they stopped at his car. He slammed his hands on his hips and glowered down at her. “You crossed the line, Soph.”
She put her hands on her hips, imitating his stance. “You’re getting communion next week.”
“I didn’t confess anything!” he barked.
“You don’t have anything to confess! You didn’t break any commandment.”
He scowled some more. She rubbed his arm. “You can thank me later,” she said.
He shook his head and shot her a dark look. “I would thank you, but I’m too busy coming up with ways to get my revenge.” He frowned. “I still have to go to confession.”
“So confess like any other good Catholic. Leave out the juicy bits, say a few Hail Marys, and move on.”
Vince looked to the sky. Then he turned back to her. “Get in.” He opened the car door, and she slid in.
He got in the driver’s side, started the car, and headed out. “You can’t just get up in my business and fix stuff.”
“So you admit I fixed the problem.”
He blew out a breath. “Just don’t—”
“Do you feel better about going to church?”
“That doesn’t mean—”
“Yes or no?”
He let out a noisy breath. “Yes.”
“Then it seems I did the right thing.”
He scowled. “You’re trying to handle me again.”
“I was helping,” she insisted. “Because I love you.”
He shook a finger at her, opened his mouth and shut it again. A beat passed in silence.
“Are you really mad?” she asked.
“I’m going to handle you so hard when we get back to my place. No mercy, Soph.”
She went damp. “I deserve it.”
“Damn right.”
~ ~ ~
Once Vince got Sophia back to his place, he demanded total surrender, and she gave it. On three different occasions—once in the living room when they first got home because he couldn’t wait, once in the bedroom when she was trying to unpack, and once on the dining room table because she was going on and on about his woodworking skill on the table, which made him get wood. She pleased him and, except for that bit with the priest today, he was pretty damn happy to be tied down for the first time in his life. Not that he’d tell her that. But he hadn’t given another woman a second glance since he’d clapped eyes on Sophia.
Tomorrow was the big groundbreaking ceremony, and they’d walk in there together. A team. He’d have his moment in the spotlight, representing Marino and Sons, and finally get that promotion. Then, if her dad showed his face, he’d deal with him and try to keep the arson thing quiet. Demolition was scheduled for later that week; then they’d start pouring the foundation for the new structure before the first deep freeze of winter hit. They didn’t have the full fundraising amount, but it looked like the gala dinner would be well attended, and Sophia had a few more fundraisers planned as well. He’d get involved where he had to. Make things happen.
Now he walked her to the door of his parents' house for Sunday dinner. He wanted his dad to know they were a couple before the groundbreaking ceremony. If he was going to get all pissy about it, better to have it out in private. He knocked and looked over at Sophia wearing a real classy, but still body-hugging red dress, which he knew she wore to please him. She smiled brilliantly. He felt that like a sucker punch to the gut. She was so beautiful, glowing even, probably his doing.
“You’re glowing,” he told her.
“Thank you,” she said.
His chest puffed out. “You should be thanking me. It’s because I fu—”
“Vince! Sophia!” his stepmom exclaimed. He hadn’t realized the door had opened. He’d been too busy gazing like a damn lovestruck fool at Sophia, wondering how long he’d have to wait to have her again. “Come on in.”
Sophia shot him a look and walked inside. Gabe and Zoe were there, and he went straight to talk to Zoe’s bulging stomach. “How ya doing, tough guy?” he asked. “Kicking up a storm, I hope.”
Zoe laughed and hugged him. “He’s doing great, Vince. How are you?”
“Good. Hey, Gabe. Any big legal cases?”
“Just the usual Clover Park shenanigans.” Gabe shook his head with a smile. “I’m cutting back my hours anyway. I’ve been working on a marketing plan for Zoe for once she finishes her album. Digging in more to entertainment law. You know, making sure I understand contracts and whatnot.”
“Hi, I’m Sophia.” Shoot. He’d forgotten his manners. She’d been standing there the whole time, but he’d gotten distracted by his godson. Only one more month until he got to meet him.
“This is Sophia,” he said. “Sophia, Gabe and Zoe.” He pointed to Zoe’s bulge. “That’s my godson, who will remain nameless, but I’m sure will be Vincent.”
Zoe laughed. “Nice to meet you, Sophia.”
“So this is the supermodel,” Gabe said. “Nice to meet you.”
Sophia’s jaw dropped, and she looked at Vince, eyes wide. “Supermodel?”
Vince socked Gabe on the shoulder. “Shut up.”
“He didn’t tell you?” Gabe grinned wickedly.
“Tell me what?” Sophia asked.
“I said shut it,” Vince boomed. He put Gabe in a headlock. He still didn’t shut up.
“When you first showed up to bid on the library,” Gabe said. “Vince told me all about it.” He jabbed Vince in the kidneys, and Vince was forced to let go. “Said you were Capello’s secret weapon. The supermodel.”
“Oh, really?” Sophia asked with a big smile.
Gabe kept going. “I said you were the perfect match since he could’ve been a supermodel.”
“That was one time!” Vince barked.
Zoe spoke up. “Sophia, did you know Vince built me a recording studio on his own time at no charge? It was a wedding present.”
The tips of Vince’s ears burned. Sophia smiled up at him. “That’s so nice.”
“I tried to pay him,” Gabe said. “He turned around and bought our baby a savings bond.”
“College is expensive,” Vince said defensively. “He’s gonna need it.”
“He did such a great job on my studio,” Zoe said. “He researched it, and it’s very professional.”
“You know what?” Sophia said, taking a hold of his arm. “I’m not at all surprised.”
“Then you know our Vince,” Zoe said.
“I’m getting a beer,” Vince announced. “Feel free to talk about me like I’m not here.”
Sophia and Zoe immediately started chatting and giggling.
“We will!” Gabe called.
Vince flipped him the bird. No respect.
~ ~ ~
Dinner went better than Vince had thought. His family acted semi-normal and stopped embarrassing him with Vince stories for Sophia’s benefit. Nico, Jared, and Angel had shown up. Luke was in Chicago on business. His brothers argued and teased like normal, and his dad seemed content just to oversee it all. Maybe they could tell Sophia loved him and didn’t need any more convincing about his virtues. No one said anything about them holding hands at the table, not even his dad, so the secret was out—Capello and Marino working together and sleeping together. But then over dessert of even more Italian wedding cookies—his stepmom was about as subtle as a hammer to the head—Sophia crossed the line again right into the danger zone.
“Vince can’t remember his mom before she was sick,” Sophia said. “Are there any pictures or home movies?”
He took in Nico’s and Angel’s shocked expressions, turned, and blasted Sophia. “What is wrong with you? First you talk to the priest and then you talk to my family about personal things you know nothing about?”
“I’m just trying to help you,” she said in a quiet voice. “I thought you’d—”
“I don’t need your help,” he barked. “I’m doing fine.”
“I have a picture at home,” Angel said. “It’s from when I was born.”
He looked at Angel, the youngest, who’d only been five when their mom passed. That picture was probably the only one he had of just him and their mom. “Nah, you keep it. Sophia spoke out of turn.”
“So tell me about the library progres
s,” his dad said, and the conversation about his deceased mother, the love of his father’s life, was dropped.
Sophia immediately launched into a detailed report on the library, and Vince sat back and let her talk. He knew she meant well, but you didn’t just bring up a dead mother over dessert in front of her three surviving sons and her widow. For crying out loud. He thought he had problems with not being sensitive enough. He lectured her the whole way home, which was only a ten-minute drive, about showing respect and not digging into other people’s business. And he didn’t let her get a word in edgewise because she needed to listen up.
They walked in the door of his place, and he finally stopped.
“Vince, your stepmom gave me this when I was helping her with the dishes.” She pulled a framed picture out of her purse and handed it to him.
“What’s this?” he asked, but he knew. His heart raced and he broke out in a sweat as adrenaline kicked through his system. It was his mother, young and smiling and healthy, like he’d never seen her before. Yet he knew it was her. The resemblance between her and Angel was striking.
“She agreed that it would be nice for you to have a picture,” Sophia said.
He didn’t want this reminder of what he’d never had. What he’d never honored. He turned and threw it across the room. The glass frame shattered as it hit the wall.
Sophia gasped.
“Dammit, Soph!” he thundered.
“I’m sorry! Your stepmom said it was nice to remember her. I know how much family means to you. I thought—”
“Think again.” He shoved a hand in his hair and backed up a step. “Don't try to fix me. If I'm broken, just leave me that way.”
She shook her head. “You're not broken. It was a way to honor her, to hold her in your heart, like Father Munson said today.” She put a hand on his arm. “I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have butted in. I’m just used to fixing stuff, and I guess I thought it would help.”
He backed away. “I don't like this love business. Especially with you digging into every little thing. I'm going out. Do what you want.”
“Vince, come on.”
He ignored her and kept going.
“I said I was sorry,” she said in a small voice.
Not My Romeo Page 18