by BJ Harvey
“Such a good girl. Everything’s under control, but there’s an antipasti platter in the refrigerator. Why don’t you pull it out and take a seat while I pour us a glass of wine? Then you can tell me about your week before everyone arrives.”
I fetch the large food-covered plate and a bottle of Chardonnay and move back to the counter. “Or you let me take care of our drinks, and you can catch me up on all the neighborhood gossip.”
Mama studies me. “You wouldn’t be hiding something juicy from me, would you?”
I shake my head. What is it about mothers being able to read their daughters like a book? Or maybe it’s just mine. “I swear, if I had time to actually have a life, I’d share all the scandalous details you could handle. But I work, sleep, and work. That’s the extent of it right now.”
“I worry about you.”
I grin. “I’m good, Mama. I promise.”
“You need to have some fun.”
“I have fun.”
“You need a man,” she says.
I laugh. “I need a man for some things and not for others. I’m happy. I’m fulfilled. I’m far too busy, but if the right one comes along, then I’ll make sure he’s worth turning my head for.”
She locks eyes with mine. “Okay, you may not need one, but what if there’s a man out there who needs you?”
I stare back at her, shaken, but I don’t dare show it. That would just encourage her. Sometimes mothers have this uncanny way of saying things you need to hear without knowing it.
She walks over to stand across the counter from me, ensnaring me with that mom look that demands you listen to the wisdom she’s about to impart. “I get the need to work hard and establish yourself. I love that you want to do that. You’ve made us so proud with everything you’ve achieved in life, but soon—not now, but soon—you’ll reach a point when you will want more than just work and sleep and fun.” Her gaze softens. “Just remember to keep your eyes clear and your heart open while you do it, okay?”
Thankfully, Valentina chooses that moment to enter the kitchen, followed by all three of my brothers.
Saved by the siblings.
It’s after we’ve all finished eating when it really gets interesting—as all Rossi family gatherings seem to do.
“Did Cohen move in already?” Mama asks, and one by one, the heads of all three brothers snap to attention.
“Hang on. Mama knows? Was this, like, the worst-kept secret?” Marco asks. Luca grumbles under his breath about keeping hands to themselves, and poor Gio, who misses out on most of the firehouse gossip, just looks lost. “Wait. Cohen’s moving in?” He turns to Marco and Luca. “You guys let this happen?”
I roll my eyes, lifting my glass and taking a long, slow sip to quell my need to say something.
Val does it for me. “The bonus is you can catch an easy ride now.”
I spit out whatever is left in my mouth, Luca becoming the unfortunate recipient of an unexpected wine shower.
“Shit! I’m… so… sorr—” I say as Val snickers beside me, and as hard as I try not to, I burst into a fit of giggles at the wide-eyed look of horror on Luca’s face. Marco’s deep chuckle soon follows, along with Gio’s and our dad’s. Mama jumps out of her seat and attempts to pat Luca’s face, which he’s too polite to stop. Instead, he just scowls at me.
“Do we need to give Cook another talking to?” Gio asks, lifting a brow at Marco.
“It’s been a year. He’s behaved himself since our last chat.”
Wait, there’s been more than one ‘Don’t touch our sister’ talk?
Marco isn’t finished. “But now he’s underneath her…”
My mind goes straight to the gutter, and Val and I lose it all over again.
I pull myself together, Val continuing to stifle a giggle here and there. There’s something still bugging me though.
“Wait. You had a talk with him as well?” I say, pointing my finger at the cop. The fine, upstanding citizen who isn’t supposed to be going around giving the hard word to anyone.
Gio leans back, crossing his arms over his puffed-up chest and looking rather proud of himself.
“Yep. Just ’cause I don’t work there doesn’t mean I don’t have my own eyes and ears in the fire department. I know exactly what Cohen Cook has been like in the past. Sailors have a different girl in every port. Casanova Cook had one in every hospital.”
That’s not news to me, but Gio’s judgment of it is. I throw my head back and burst out laughing. When I settle down, I find Dad frowning, the three musketeers—aka my brothers—with varied expressions of amused confusion. Mama and Val both frown.
“Boys…” Papa says, his eyes narrowed at all three of them. “While your intentions were good, your execution was poor. You may express your concerns to your sister, but you shouldn’t put down a man’s life decisions when the man himself is not here to defend himself.”
My sister—as is her way—just tells it as it is. “Or you guys could just mind your business and let Skye do whatever she wants with whoever she wants, whether that be Cohen, a doctor, a cop, a fire—”
“A butcher, a baker, a candlestick maker.” I snigger, fighting and failing to hold back a snort. My mom’s lips twitch, and Val loses it completely.
“What is it with Rossi women?” Luca asks, chuckling.
My father’s eyes are glued to his wife, a soft and totally goofy lovesick smile on his lips.
“Okay, so since we’re over the slut-shaming of my best friend and now landlord, hit me with your Cohen questions so, once and for all, you boys can stop grunting and growling and pitching a fit whenever you think Cass is getting too close to me.”
Papa shoots me a sneaky wink. The one thing our parents instilled in all of us is to stand our ground and be true to ourselves. I may be the baby of the family, and equal last in the height stakes, but I can go toe to toe with all of them.
”Okay then, when did this happen?” Gio asks, obviously happy to get in first.
“The Friday before last. We had a meeting with the contractors, the architect, and two of his brothers the Monday after he moved in. I was even able to help with the apartment layout. They started demo work on the middle flat this week.”
“And it’s hasn’t been too disruptive? You can always crash at mine during the day if you need to get away from the noise,” Val says. “You’ve got a key. Just come and go as you please.”
I lean sideways and give her a one-armed hug. “Aww, see? You do love me.”
“Yeah, sometimes. But it comes with a condition,” she adds, piquing much curiosity.
“Okay…”
“Come with me to the next singles’ night at Throb.”
Well, that’s easy. “Okay,” I say with a shrug. “I’ll be your wing-woman.”
“You mean, make sure I don’t go for the immature jerks like I normally do?”
Luca snorts. “Why do you think we keep you away from Scotty?”
“Ha ha, good one,” Marco says, holding his hand up for a high five.
Val—God, I love her—meets my eyes, mischief dancing in hers as she dons an innocent expression. “Wait, wasn’t that guy you set me up with called Scotty?” she asks.
The dining room goes so quiet, I swear you could hear a mouse fart.
Then Val breaks. “Ha! Gotcha!”
“Yeah, yeah, can we get back to Casanova living with our baby sister?” Gio asks.
“Okay, he’s living in my building. Well, technically, his and his brothers’ building.”
“The house-flipping one?” Dad asks.
“Yep. So Jamie heard me say my building was being sold. They did whatever house-flippers do when they’re looking for new projects, and the next thing I knew, they’d bought it. That old smelly dude from flat two decided to bail, so they’re starting there, then I’ll move into the finished one and they’ll do my apartment, and then Co and I will play musical places and I’ll go back to my new place and he’ll move so they can do the ground-floor one.”
&
nbsp; “Okay, I’m confused,” Val says.
I giggle. “Just smile and nod, and drink wine, then I’ll drive you home after.”
“Now that I can do,” she says with a smile, topping up her glass and doing as she’s told.
Mama starts clearing away the dishes from the table. I stand and begin doing the same. “I’ll help with the washing up.”
“I’d love you to, sweet girl,” she says, cupping my cheek with her spare hand as she moves past.
Once we’ve cleared the table, Dad, Val, and the brothers go outside to look at Val’s dodgy alternator, leaving the two of us in the kitchen.
“How’s work going?” Mama asks.
“It’s good,” I reply, before launching into the story about Jenny and Forrest.
My mother laughs. “We did always tell you kids it was important to love your job.”
“Exactly. Gio gets to help people, Val makes them feel good about themselves, and Marco and Luca get to save kittens from trees,” I say with a giggle.
“And you? You work so hard—I just want to know you’re happy.” I don’t miss her unasked question.
“I am,” I say softly, feeling the love. “I’ll eventually do my paramedic training, but for now, I’m happy working at the firehouse and partnering with Co. Life is good—I promise.”
“And you and him?”
My head jerks back, my Spidey senses tingling. “Huh?” I ask, hoping to divert the new path of this conversation. “We’re friends, Mama. Best friends.”
“Some of the best relationships start that way.”
“He’s Co, and I’m me, and we’re just not like that.”
“Maybe him living in the building is a chance to see if you can be like that?”
I love my mom, but damn, she’s got to stop getting her hopes up. “I promise, Mama, on Nonna’s grave, rest her soul, there isn’t anything other than friendship vibes there.”
She sighs and shakes her head, muttering under her breath in Italian, but I swear I hear the word clueless.
“At least bring that boy home for dinner one night. I can whip up a carbonara in twenty minutes. Just give me a call, and I’ll win him over with my food.”
What I say in my head is, “I want to bang him, not marry him.” What I say out loud is, “I love you,” as I wrap my arms around her waist and cuddle her from behind.
“I’m not going to give up yet. Mothers know these things.”
It’s not like I’m about to tell her that Cohen and I are friends, and that’s all we will ever be, except hopefully we’ll graduate to friends who also get naked and share orgasms, so I go for the safe route. “Not this time, Mama,” I say, hoping she’ll take the hint.
“Okay. What about that Scotty guy then?”
I offer a prayer to the ceiling for the first time in years.
Lord, save me from my mother’s matchmaking, and I promise I’ll go to church sometime in the next decade. Much appreciated, Skye Rossi.
9
Cohen
I’ve been locked away in the station’s conference room for the past half hour catching up on end-of-shift paperwork. Having delivered the finished reports to the captain’s office, I make my way down the corridor towards the lockers, desperate for food and sleep after another hectic, non-stop overnight shift.
Sleep is not on my agenda today though, since Jamie asked if the rest of us brothers could give him and Jase a hand in finishing off the last of the demo in the middle apartment—mainly ripping up tiles in the kitchen and bathroom.
So far, there hasn’t been too much disruption as far as noise goes, but I’m dead on my feet already, and the prospect of a few hours of manual labor isn’t filling me with joy.
Moving past the workout room, I turn my head to wave to whoever is inside, expecting to find a few of the guys from the incoming shift passing time with some weights.
What has me coming to a hard stop is a barely dressed, sweat-glistening-on-her-skin Skye doing bench presses.
My eyes are glued to the painted-on grey workout pants clinging to her legs. I drag my gaze up over her curved hips to her tanned bare midriff and become transfixed on her black sports bra. I’ve always been a tits and ass man, and Skye has both in spades. I try to think of anything to stop my mind—and my dick—from going there, but it’s impossible when I hear her soft pants as she slowly lowers the bar to her chest, then gives a low husky huff as she strains to lift it back up again.
I quietly step inside, watching her place the bar on the rack.
“I know you’re there, Cass,” she murmurs, repositioning her hands above her head. “But if you’re gonna stand there like a creeper, you can at least come over here and spot me.” A sly smile curls her lips as I push off the wall and round the equipment to stand above her, looking down.
Skye tips her head back, running her eyes up my body until she reaches my face. There’s no way she’s missed the unmistakable bulge in my pants—not from her current position. “You look good from this angle,” she says, her gaze filled with heat and humor.
“And I haven’t been able to tear my eyes off you since I walked in.” I repay the favor, taking my fill of her laid out in front of me. It would be much better if she was naked, there wasn’t a bar stacked with weights between us, and I was lying on top of her.
“You watching?” she asks, her voice smooth and sexy. Fuck, this woman is turning me inside out and upside down. I glance over at the door, knowing at any time anyone could walk by.
I lean over so I’m looking straight down at her, my eyes dipping to her mouth as she drags her tongue achingly slowly across her lips.
“Fuck,” I mutter, earning a heated smirk.
She lifts the bar, the rattling metal shaking me from my haze and back to the task at hand. It’s then I realize my mistake.
From across the room, she was sexy. Close up, with her huffs, puffs and groans as she slowly does another set of lifts, I’m at serious risk of losing control of the situation—if I ever had it to begin with.
Right now, I’d give anything to drag my mouth in a trail from her shoulder up to her neck. I want to sink my teeth into the delicate skin below her ear and hear her moan as I smooth my hands over her skin and down her sides, sweeping my thumbs over those hard nipples poking through the thin fabric that covers them.
Her eyes lock with mine, flashing with the same heat that threatens to make me come in my pants like a horny teenager. A whimper escapes her lips, and it’s like she’s heard every single dirty thought running through my head.
Her chest is heaving, hands fisted at her hips, her legs now tightly drawn together, and the part of me without responsibility wishes I could cross the room, lock the door, draw the blinds and test out the strength of that weight bench right along with her.
“God, I wish you wouldn’t be so noble,” she says quietly, but I hear every single word.
“And I wish I hadn’t listened to your brothers a year ago and that I’d made a move before I knew what I had to lose.”
She slowly tilts her head back to take a look at my body, pausing on the part making my feelings extremely obvious right now. “Fuck,” she breathes, her eyes drifting up to mine.
“Stop looking at me like that, and I might have a chance of walking out of here unnoticed.”
“Not by me,” she says with a slow, curving grin. “’Cause the view from the back is arguably better than the front.”
I can’t stop the growl that escapes as I straighten and pace across the room. “This is crazy.”
She sits up on the bench, grabbing her small gym towel and patting her face before hooking it around her neck. When I turn back to face her, she shrugs.
“In my defense, you started it.”
She stands, and then she arches a brow as if to silently challenge me. Our standoff stretches on, and I’m barely able to stop myself from grabbing her, laying her out on that damn bench and giving in to this palpable sexual tension crackling between us.
I let ou
t a breath, hoping it’ll somehow kick my brain back into gear and send blood pumping north again.
Suddenly, all previous exhaustion has gone. My sole thought is helping my best friend work out in thoroughly enjoyable ways.
I step toward her, and her eyes flash.
She licks her lips, drawing my attention to her mouth as I move closer.
I groan when she squirms and clenches her legs together as I get within touching distance, and I’m this close to saying ‘fuck it’ and taking what we both want.
“Hey, Cass. Didn’t realize you were still here,” Scotty says, walking into the room. “Hey, Skye. You working out?”
I watch in fascination as amusement fills her gaze, and she turns to face the door, finding Luca, Scotty, and another firefighter, Rhodes.
“Nah, I’m just practicing poses for my next modeling campaign,” she deadpans.
“What?” Scotty splutters, his eyes as wide as saucers.
“She’s fucking with you, idiot,” Luca says, eyeing me suspiciously as he walks around the others and over to his sister. He pulls her in for a hug, obviously not caring that she’s sweaty. “Hey, brat.”
“Hey, thug,” Skye replies with obvious amusement. Luca’s eyes drift over her shoulders to me. “Cook…”
I can’t help but shake my head. “Rossi.”
“How’s the new place? Settled in?” he asks curiously.
“Yeah, it’s good.”
“The bonus is that we can carpool,” Skye adds, not helping things.
A quick glance at Rhodes and Scotty finds them watching the three of us like this is a pay-per-view, and shit’s about to get good. How is this my life?
Luca’s gaze narrows. “Is that right?”
“It makes sense,” she says. “Saves bringing two cars when we live together and work the exact same shifts.”
“Oh damn,” Rhodes mutters, shooting me an apologetic look before ducking his head.
“Hey, Cohen. Got any spare apartments in the building? Maybe I can move in, and we can get our own ride-share going,” Scotty adds.
I bark out a laugh. Rhodes stares at Scotty before his shoulders shake, and he chuckles alongside me. Luca’s head goes from Skye to me to the guys at the door.