The Mr. Wrong Series

by Madden, A. M.

  My brain quickly ran through a scenario that could happen tonight—a romantic dinner after which Luca made love to me all night in his bed. There was one huge problem with that wonderful chain of events, I had to drive to Queens in the morning to celebrate Easter with my family.

  “What?” he asked, picking up on my dilemma.

  “Nothing. I just need to be at my parents’ house fairly early tomorrow.”

  “Okay, so I’ll drive you back to your apartment.”

  Shit, I couldn’t believe I assumed he’d ask me to spend the night. While internally chastising myself, he took my hand in his and flipped it over to kiss my palm. “Sabrina, what is running through that head of yours?”

  “Nothing,” I repeated. “Thank you again for a great morning… and night.”

  A slow, sexy smile lifted the corners of his lips. “You can thank me properly later.”

  I finished my breakfast and stood to place my dish and mug in the sink. “I’ll do this, go get ready.” As Luca began washing, he added, “Pack a bag.” His words halted me in my tracks. Sensing my confusion, he turned off the water, wiped his hands on a dishtowel, and walked over to where I stood in the doorway. Chocolate brown eyes searched my facial expression, “Did you think I was driving you home in the middle of the night?”

  “No…” I shrugged at the way he quirked a brow in challenge. “Fine, yes. I wasn’t sure.”

  “Well, now you are.” After placing a chaste kiss on my lips and a firm slap on my ass, he pushed me toward my room and said, “Chop… chop.”

  Luca had me at work fifteen minutes early. He double parked in front of the salon and twisted in his seat. “Meet me at the entrance of the market.”

  “I will.” My eyes cut toward my overnight bag that sat on the back seat. “I can’t wait for tonight.”

  He placed a hand on the back of my head and pulled me toward him. “Me too.” I felt his fingers tighten over my hair just as his firm lips met mine. It wasn’t a quick peck by any means. Luca was about to send me off with desire coursing through every part of my body.

  He dipped his tongue inside and coaxed mine into his own mouth. I followed his lead to continue the erotic dance he initiated. His other hand held my face as he deepened the kiss between us and sucked on my tongue.

  An immediate shot of electricity traveled from my mouth and ended between my legs.

  Luca pulled away with a groan. “Go, before I drive us right to my place.” Based on the condition he had just worked me up to, I couldn’t guarantee I’d argue if he did. “Have a good day, dear,” he said as I let myself out of the car. Giving him a brilliant smile, I blew him a kiss and dashed into the salon.

  Three steps in, and I came face to face with a grinning Becky. “Holy hell.” Ignoring her, I walked around where she stood with hands on her hips toward my station. “Hey, missy. Spill it.”

  “There’s nothing to spill.” I figured I had about three minutes before she’d beat the information out of me. With her eyes trained on my back, I removed my tools from my work bag to place them on my counter. None of the other stylists were due to arrive until ten. Becky opened the salon an hour earlier for me on the Saturdays that I worked. “Coffee is up?” I asked, walking myself to the break room to grab a cup.

  She was right on my heels, zipped around my body, and planted herself at the entrance of the small kitchen at the back of the salon. “You walked out of here last night after doing Mrs. Brennan’s clown-do. And today you sit in front of my place of business sucking face with that hot Italian. So, you have two choices. You either tell me what went down between Mrs. Brennan and now, or I’ll go full stalker mode and ask him myself.”

  I knew she’d make due on her threat. The woman was relentless when she wanted info. “Fine,” I conceded. “Let me get my coffee, call Mikey to say good morning, and then I’ll tell you what happened.”

  She tapped her wristwatch and released an exaggerated sigh. “Fine. But not the abridged version.”

  “Yes, the abridged version.” I pushed her aside to get to the caffeine I desperately needed from a second cup. “I haven’t been with a man since Dillon. There is no way I’m telling you every detail.” I carried my cup to my chair and sat with a huff.

  “Don’t be so selfish, Sabrina.” She had the nerve to stand beside me with a pointed authoritative finger in my face. “I have no prospects in sight and the least you can do is give me something to work with.”

  “You were just with someone last week.”

  My statement caused her mouth to hang open in an unflattering way. “That doesn’t count. It was meh at best. I need new material to fantasize over. It’s the little things in my sad life.”

  “There will be no fantasizing over Luca.”

  She released a shot of air through her nose. “Oh, that ship has sailed, my friend.”

  Chapter 19

  Luca

  I spent most of my morning at the gym. The way Sabrina appreciated my physique was enough incentive to add a few pounds to the bar and run an extra mile or two. With Jude at his in-laws’ farm, Kyle was my gym-partner in crime.

  Of course, conversation centered around Vanessa and Sabrina. Unlike Kyle, who had no problem sharing details of their very hot, very active sex life, I chose to keep what transpired during my night with Sabrina to myself. Kyle knew we were dating, and that I was happy… and that’s all he needed to know.

  After two full hours of a grueling workout, I set the weights back onto the rack and wiped my neck with a towel. “I’m outta here. Say hi to Vanessa. What are you two up to tomorrow?”

  He followed suit, wiping his brow with a towel and sitting heavily on a bench. “Vanessa is anti-holiday, so we are heading to Atlantic City.”

  “Well, good luck. We all know how much you suck at cards.”

  “I’m a lover not a gambler, Benedetto.”

  “So you say. See ya, Cleary.” I headed to the lockers to grab my bag. Not bothering to shower at the gym, thirty minutes later I was in the luxury of my own bathroom.

  I loved my apartment. Although sleek and modern in architecture, my interior decorator managed to bring warmth with the furniture and fabrics in each room. From my living room, you could exit onto a glass-encased balcony with an amazing view of upper Manhattan. That was where I spent many hours enjoying the tranquility away from the crazy busy life I lived.

  While in my shower, my thoughts went to Sabrina. Having her see my space, getting to know me in my own environment, and spending quality time together excited me. Hell, just thinking of making love under the rain showerhead I currently enjoyed, in my bed, and maybe even while she was pressed up against the glass door to my balcony, forced me to turn the dial to cold. It was her I wanted, not my own hand.

  Besides getting myself and my apartment ready for my time with Sabrina, I managed to scour through some of the portfolio’s Jude had asked me to review until it was time to head out.

  A few hours later I was engulfed in floral and spicy scents while I waited outside of the market for Sabrina to arrive. My fingers toyed with my keys in my pocket. The digital clock on my phone read just after four p.m., and Sabrina should be getting out of work soon.

  I knew I was going to beat her there, but better than the other way around. I sat on a bench outside of the market watching people come and go. A guy walked out holding a flowers in one hand as a little girl skipped alongside him. Couples, families, and singles, milled about.

  If you would have asked me a few weeks ago which category I fell in, there would be no doubt what it would be. Now, after meeting Mikey and Sabrina, I wasn’t quite sure. I knew I wanted to be a couple with Sabrina, and would make that happen, but would she want me to be part of her family? That was the question. Of course, it was too early to delve into that portion of our relationship. Hopefully, one day I’d have that answer.

  Growing up, I was surrounded by large families. My mother had four siblings, and my father had six. I had countless cousins and there was never
a point when I felt alone. We were a tight knit group. So when I left Italy, it was a major shock to not only my system, but theirs.

  There were some days that I thought about moving back. As time passed, that option didn’t make sense… my life was here. I had my friends, work, and now I had a woman who got under my skin.

  My knee bounced in anticipation of wanting to see Sabrina even though it had just been hours since I dropped her off. I found myself wondering how her day went, if she had any other customers who wanted unique hair, if she had told Becky about us. It wouldn’t bother me if she had, it would almost make it more real, not just to me, but to her.

  It wasn’t much longer when I spotted her silky blonde hair coming toward me. Her jeans accentuating her legs, the strap of her purse crossed her body between her breasts while the bag bounced on her hip with each step she took. Her hazel eyes scanned the area. I stood and raised my hand to capture her attention. When she spotted me, my heart began pounding in my chest. The smile that grew across her face, coupled with the sparkle in her eyes, made me feel alive.

  “Hi,” she said as she stopped in front of me. “I hope you haven’t been waiting long.”

  “Hey, there.” I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her against me. “No, not long at all. How was your day?” Releasing her, I linked our fingers together and we started toward the entrance.

  “It was good, busy, but good. How was yours?”

  “Dull, which is how I prefer my Saturdays.”

  Taking a basket, I said, “Well, your day is about to get exciting.”

  “Yeah, what’s the plan?”

  “First, I thought we’d get our ingredients, then go to my place and cook dinner. The rest of my plans I’d rather show you rather than tell you.”

  She bit her bottom lip. “Is that so?”

  “It is,” I replied with a wink.

  We made our way over to the vegetables. I had no idea of what I’d make, since I didn’t know her likes and dislikes. Most of my culinary skills were based on what my mother or grandmother made, and everything seemed to go back to what I grew up with.

  “This is going to be fun. Finally, cooking something other than chicken nuggets and macaroni and cheese.” She let out a laugh, then added, “And pancakes.”

  “I don’t know, that son of yours didn’t seem too finicky when I’ve eaten with him.”

  “Yes, because you were there. Mikey seems to have taken a very strong liking to you.”

  “That kid is the best.” I walked toward the tomatoes, picked one up, felt it for ripeness. She nodded and a couple more followed into our basket.

  We shopped like this for an hour. What I realized was we generally liked the same things, except she had an aversion to artichokes, which I happened to love.

  “How could you not like these?” I asked holding the glorious vegetable in my hand. “This is their prime season.” Her nose crinkled, and she shook her head. “You have no idea what you’re missing.” I chose four that I liked and put them in the basket.

  She quipped, “You must really like them.”

  “Sweetheart, by the time we’re done with dinner, you will like them.” Not letting her rebuke my comment, I told her to pick something, but I liked almost everything, so whatever was fine with me.

  Sabrina stopped in front of the Brussel sprouts. Shocked that she liked them, I nodded with a smile. Truth be told, I didn’t care for them, but I didn’t let on. I played the same card with my mother when she wanted me to try new things. “You like Brussel sprouts?” Three lines formed on the bridge of her nose and I instantly knew she didn’t like them.

  “Sure, don’t you? We should get some.” I pulled a plastic bag off the roller and started to open it.

  “No, I don’t like them.”

  I let out a laugh and kissed the top of her head. “I don’t either, it seems Mikey’s eating habits didn’t fall far from the tree.”

  She smacked my chest with her open hand. “That’s not true. Just because I don’t like artichokes and Brussel sprouts doesn’t mean I’m picky.”

  “Spinach?”

  “Love it.”

  I continued, this was a fun way to get to know her. “Broccoli?” She nodded. “Cauliflower.”

  “Yes. I actually make a great cauliflower rice. Mikey has no idea what he’s eating.” Her laugh sounded like a melody with a little bit of sinister laced in it. She put a head of the white vegetable in our basket.

  “Do you eat anchovies?”

  “Paste yes, the entire fish, no.”

  “That makes zero sense to me.”

  “Not really. The entire fish is boney and ugly. In paste form it’s easier to handle.” She shrugged when I stared and blinked at her.

  “So, does that mean you don’t eat any seafood? I was thinking scallops for dinner.”

  “Oh, I love scallops. I don’t consider them fish,” she offered with a shrug.

  My chuckle was instant, and pulling her into my arms was automatic. “You’re so adorable,” I said before once again kissing the top of her head.

  When we had a basket full of things she agreed on and some I insisted on, we left the market. On the way out, I bought a bouquet of flowers similar to the one I gave her once before, and handed them to her. “For you.”

  Just like she did the first time, she lowered her nose to the blossoms with a smile. “Thank you, I love them.”

  Sabrina

  “Luca, this is magnificent.” I stared out at the Manhattan skyline in awe. “I’d be out here all the time.”

  “I am.” His tone caused me to twist my gaze to his face. The dim evening light did little to hide the retrospect I detected in his voice. He was so devastatingly handsome in his white button down shirt and casual denim, but in that moment I could see his vulnerability. I suspected there were layers of Luca Benedetto I had yet to discover.

  He leaned his elbows on the banister and sighed. “My mom goes to church to think and contemplate things…I come out to my balcony. Even in the dead of winter, at the end of my workday I enjoy taking a few solitary minutes to stare at the view and detox.” A warm smile spread over his lips as he turned his attention to me. “If it doesn’t get too chilly, after dinner we can sit out here with our wine.”

  “I’d like that.” He took my hand and led me back into his apartment. It was the perfect mix of masculine and class. In spite of the modern architecture, his furniture and accessories were warm and inviting. A glass wall separated his living room from that stunning balcony. The modern black kitchen cabinetry was topped with immaculate white granite. Even the gray slate tile floor contrasted yet complimented the soft pile cream area rug that covered a good portion of the living room.

  His bedroom was as sexy as he was. Rather than the blacks, grays, and creams that carried through the rest of his place, warm wood furniture mixed with silky bedding in shades of blue made me want to snuggle up with him for days on end.

  “Okay, now that you’ve been given the grand tour, ready to make dinner?” he asked, still holding my hand as we walked toward his incredible kitchen.

  “I almost don’t want to mess it up.” The confused expression on his face forced me to elaborate. “Your kitchen looks too pretty to cook in.”

  “Don’t be silly, I cook in it all the time.” Patting one of the barstools at the island, he commanded, “Sit.”

  “I want to help,” I argued.

  Smugly, he folded one cuff up at a time to reveal his masculine forearms… strong forearms were my thing. “You will. But, right now I want you to relax.”

  How could I not be relaxed? This was heaven for me. I was having an adult night with one of the sweetest men I’d ever met. I loved my son dearly, but one could only take so much of Cartoon Network.

  Soft music drifted through the apartment with a woman’s melodic voice singing lyrics in Italian. I smiled as Luca moved around his kitchen pulling ingredients from the market bags and from his fridge.

  “White or red?”


  “Whatever you’re having.” After pulling out a bottle of chardonnay from his wine fridge along with two wine glasses, I watched as he opened it and poured us each a glassful.

  He raised his glass and said, “To getting hit in the head with a soccer ball.” I laughed at the memory before tapping my glass to his.

  “To finger paint on your pants,” I added.

  It was his turn to laugh. “I guess we owe that little dude for bringing us together.”

  We both took a sip of the wine. Its smooth full-body flavor assaulted my taste buds. Luca’s eyes fixed on mine over the rim of his glass. In them I could see a mixture of desire and admiration, and once more I felt wanted.

  “Okay, time to wow you, Ms. Ricci,” he said with a wink. The fact he used my maiden name thrilled me in an inexplicable way. When he pulled out the artichokes from the bag with a devious smile, I wasn’t sure he was aware he had. “I’ll convert you yet. This recipe is my nonna’s. How is it you’re part Italian and never had a stuffed artichoke?”

  “They look like they’d hurt when going down.”

  He gifted me with a devious grin. “It’s impossible to hurt when going down.” And just like that, the need to tear that white shirt off his body and have my way with him consumed me.

  Ignoring his comment for the sake of dinner, I changed the subject. “I picture you as a little boy helping your grandmother.” What was odd, the image I had in my head of Luca as a young boy was of Mikey. The color of their eyes and hair were so similar, my son could pass as Luca’s.

  “I really never did. I was too interested in soccer and playing outside. Weird that I picked things up, though.”

  Luca jumped into expert chef mode, chopping and slicing as we fell into a comfortable chat about our lives. His claim that I’d help turned out to be a lie. I think he passed me a pepper, cutting board, and knife just to shut me up.

  I never had a man cook me dinner before, and debated on telling him so. Part of me wanted him to know how much I truly appreciated all the little things he’d done for me. Some would consider them silly, superficial. I treasured the art of romance, craved it. Sure, Luca had so many qualities that made him a catch, but damn his romantic side could no doubt have me falling in love with him.