She’d never been to the warehouse before. Frankly, she was unimpressed. The front office and reception area was modern and tidy, absolutely normal for a successful but not massive business of its sort. Bev had plenty of office work on her résumé, and it looked perfectly familiar to her. Then Nick led her past a closed set of wide, walnut doors and down a hallway and through another set of double doors.
His office. This was more impressive, large and decorated in a sleek style similar to his apartment. He sat her down on a smooth, black leather sofa and then sat next to her.
“Tell me.”
His typically terse way of starting a conversation like this made her smile. How many times had he said those two words to her in their months together? He always said them as if there was no question that he should know. Even when he’d been so careful with her, in this, in his certainty of his way, he’d been the same. That bit of normalcy cleared her head.
“I got a call from Chris’s lawyer this morning. He wanted to see me. We made an appointment for Friday afternoon, but then I remembered that Carmen’s rehearsal dinner is Friday, so I called him back. He said he’d squeeze me in at lunch today.”
She could tell by the twitch in his jaw that he didn’t want those details. But there wasn’t much to the story. Chris had been buried last week. Bev and Skylar had handled the arrangements, because Chris’s parents and older brother were all dead.
His friends had been his only family, and he and Bev hadn’t been speaking. He had died truly alone.
Today, his lawyer was executing his will. Just as when her father died, there was no big reading like in the movies. There was a phone call. And then there were papers to sign.
She hadn’t signed them.
“I don’t know what to do. He must have made that will before our fight. The way we left it, he couldn’t have wanted me to have everything.”
Nick pulled her sun pendant out from under her top and laid it over the fabric. “Are you sure? It’s been months since that fight. He had time to change it if he wanted to.”
“But why wouldn’t he?”
“He loved you, bella.”
She sighed, her chest aching. “And I let him die alone.”
He grabbed her chin, pinching it firmly between his thumb and the side of his forefinger. “No. He made his choices. How long were you friends?”
“Eleven years. More.”
“Were you a good friend? Were you loyal and…honest? Were you there for him?”
“Not the way he wanted.”
“Beverly, stop. You’re looking for a reason to blame yourself. I don’t give a shit whether you take what he left you or not. You don’t need it. But don’t make the choice because you think you don’t deserve it. You were a good friend. He let you think he was happy with that. You did nothing wrong.” He smiled. “Shake it off, sunshine. You’re past all that.”
She was. Somehow, Chris’s death had helped her. It was an awful way to think about it, but it was true. It had been the proverbial straw, but instead of breaking her back, it had broken the grip of dark fear that had kept her from feeling everything she needed to feel so that she could surmount her pain and get back to herself. All of herself.
Nick released her chin and pulled her under his arm, resting back on the sofa. “How much is it?”
“His life insurance is a hundred grand. I don’t know how much the other stuff is worth. The lawyer had a bunch of papers with valuation estimates and stuff, but I was too spun to think about it. I have them in the car. But it’s the store—there’s some kind of mortgage on it. The shop inventory and the van. And his house—that was his family vacation place, one of the little cottages in Quiet Summers Estates. It’s not much, but that was paid for when he inherited it.”
He nodded, and Bev could tell, looking up from his shoulder, that he was thinking. As he thought, his fingers traced the bare skin of her arm, making a slow, sensual circle. She sighed deeply, beginning to think of other things than what Chris had left her or why.
“Before you go, I’ll have Fred take a look at the valuations and any other papers the lawyer gave you. He’ll be able to tell you what’s yours, free and clear. And then you’ll decide what you want to do. It’s up to you, bella. Like I said, you don’t need any of it.”
“I’m still not working.” That was something she hadn’t yet been able to motivate herself to do. She knew for sure she never wanted to be a waitress again, and she hadn’t been able to figure out what else to do. She was making fifty bucks a week teaching her yoga class for the condo association. She owned the condo free and clear, but otherwise, she was living on Nick’s dime—which he loved, and with which she was becoming too comfortable.
As if to prove her point and to reiterate his, he said, “You don’t have to work. You know that.”
“I do need to work. I’m just having trouble getting ready. Maybe a job I wouldn’t have to interview for would be a good thing. Something I’m in charge of.”
“Wait—are you thinking about running the bookshop?”
Until he said it out loud, she hadn’t fully comprehended that yes, she was thinking exactly that. Now that she saw it, she liked it. It could be a way to remember Chris as she’d known him. The way their friendship had been through her eyes. She thought of the last day they’d really been close, sitting behind the sales desk, eating peach pie. That afternoon had ended badly for them, but they’d started it as friends.
“Would that be silly?”
“Have you ever managed a business?”
No, she had not. She’d been a waitress. A sales clerk. A receptionist. All of them, many times over. She’d never managed anything. “No.”
He was quiet, thinking again, and she finally ended the silence with a huff. “It’s silly. I can’t do it.”
“Stop that. If that’s what you want, we’ll hire somebody to help you. Somebody who knows the business.”
She liked that idea. “Okay. Yeah. But not…you know…” She lost her nerve before the next word came out. It had been stupid to start the sentence at all.
His eyes darkened, and she knew that he could see where she’d been headed. He asked anyway. “Not what?”
“Never mind.”
“One and only time for this conversation, Beverly. Say it.”
“Not a…wiseguy.”
He laughed, but there was a bite at its end. “How about a bentnose? A button? A goodfella? You watch too much television, bella.”
“You don’t use those words?”
“They’re used about us. We call ourselves Paganos. To your point, we don’t mix business and family. Now that I’ve told you that, you remember it, and you trust it. If you decide to keep the bookshop, my business won’t be part of it.”
“Okay.”
“Don’t ask questions about my business again.”
She didn’t like his tone. Often she found his simple imperatives endearing, and the confident power behind them hot. But this was a different kind of order, and there was a threat behind it. That pissed her off. A whole lot. “What happened at the diner, what those men did to me—that was your business mixing in my life. I spent a month with a wiseguy shadowing my every move, sitting in my apartment, eating my food, because your business was in my life. And still I got raped and butchered by men in your business. So don’t pull attitude because I don’t want it to happen again.”
Nick’s face had gone completely slack. She had never seen such an expression of dumb shock on him before.
He didn’t seem prepared to say anything. She really was angry, so angry her heart was pulsing in her ears. It actually felt kind of good. It was exhilarating, such a pure surge of powerful emotion.
“I’ll go get the papers from my car.” She stood, and Nick’s hand went around her arm and yanked her back down to the sofa.
“No.”
“What?”
“You don’t drop that and walk away.”
“Drop what? Did I say something you didn’
t know?”
“I didn’t know you blamed me. You told me you didn’t.”
“I don’t. But then you make a big show of laying down the law about me asking about your business, when all I want is for your business to stay out of my life. I don’t want to know about your business. I don’t want any part of it. I love you. I love all of you, the bad and the good. I need all of you. I don’t care what you do, or what you’ve done. It makes you who you are, and I love you. I’m glad of what you did, whatever it was, to the men who came to the diner. But whatever happens in your work that isn’t moving teddy bears out of containers on the harbor and into toy stores in Boise, I don’t want to know. That’s why I said what I said. Don’t ask, don’t tell.” She took a breath, still feeling strangely excited. Then, she had a new thought and narrowed her eyes. “Where business is concerned. I won’t be okay with a ‘goo-mar-dah’ or whatever you call that—a mistress. I’ll ask about that shit.”
Nick’s expression had been shifting during her diatribe, and by the time she said her last sentence, he was smiling. “Comare. But close. I told you before, I’ve never cheated. I’ve had plenty of relationships back to back, but I don’t cheat.” He leaned toward her and pulled at the hem of her knit top. When he spoke again, his voice was low and rough. “You’re plenty for me, bella. I love you. I’d have been faithful even if you’d never wanted me inside you again.” His hand slid under her top and over the skin of her belly. “But you do want me inside you.” His other hand pushed up her short, flowing skirt and slid along the outside of her thigh, under her panties, and around to cup her cheek. “Don’t you?”
He pulled her down to lie on the sofa under him. “Don’t you?”
She did. The exhilaration she’d felt at getting truly, thoroughly angry and speaking her mind, standing up for herself, was making her nerves and muscles buzz pleasantly, and she realized, when his hand left her side to move under her skirt and panties, that her pussy was buzzing, too. And soaking wet.
His fingers brushed back and forth over her clit, and the intensity of the pleasure made her body twitch and bounce. His mouth hovered just above hers. Wanting to taste him, to feel his tongue moving with hers in the way she knew so well, she lifted her head and tried to catch him, but he lifted away. “Don’t you?”
She no longer had any idea what he was talking about. The fingers of one hand were at her clit, those of the other hand brushed lightly up and down over her anus, his mouth was tantalizingly close to hers. “Don’t I what?” she growled, frustrated.
“Want me inside you. You want me to fill you up and fuck you hard. I can feel your pussy throbbing already.”
“If you already know, why are you still talking?”
“Good point.” He slid his fingers inside her, and Bev thought she’d come right then. She surged toward him, getting his fingers deeper, and made a noise in the back of her throat.
He laughed. “God, I love that. You’re back, bella. You’re back.” He took hold of her panties and yanked, ripping them at both sides at once. The harsh pull of the tearing fabric burned her hips and made her cry out.
Without moving too far away, he reached down and opened his pants. And then he filled her up and fucked her hard.
~ 21 ~
“I have something for you, bella.” He pulled the zipper up the back of Beverly’s pearl-grey lace dress. Her curves were returning, and the dress fit her perfectly, easing over the flawless swell of her ass. He took a moment and indulged himself, sliding his hands over the lace, across her shoulders, down her arms, around her hips, up her sides. When she sighed and leaned back on him, he smiled and kissed her temple.
“Another gift? Where do you find the time to do all this shopping?”
He didn’t, in fact, have to do much shopping. He had a jeweler, Deirdre, who set things aside for him and let him know when she’d found something of particular interest. He thought he’d spoken to Deirdre more about Beverly by now than anyone else in his life. When he’d bought her the dress she was now wearing, he’d called and described it, and Deirdre had suggested what was in his jacket pocket now.
He’d be disappointed when she’d taken possession of the bookshop and was working again. He’d found a kind of fulfillment in taking care of her. But as much as Beverly admired his aunt and his mother, she would never be like them in this way—they had both been content to be homemakers. Both had thrown themselves into that role, running their houses, throwing parties, doing charity work.
Beverly’s insistence that she needed to work was a source of both pride and concern for Nick. He was proud of her strength and resilience, of her refusal to back away from this thing she wanted. But he was concerned, too, and not simply for her safety. Though he meant to keep his business away from his family, his family bore on his reputation, and that crossed both lines. She would have a role in the Pagano family, a time consuming one.
Or she would when she accepted his next gift, the one currently being custom-made by his jeweler.
“Do my gifts bore you? Are you going to deny me this pleasure?” He was teasing, as he knew she was, too. She enjoyed his pampering.
“No.” She looked up and him and smirked. “If it makes you happy, I suppose I can bear up under the strain.”
He ducked his head and nipped at her neck. “So brave.” He pulled out the long, slim box and handed it to her.
She opened it. “Oh. Oh! Nick, God. It’s too much.”
The bracelet was clusters of small diamonds, alternating with Akoya pearls, set in platinum. He lifted the strand off the satin lining and took the empty box from her, tossing it on the bed behind them.
“If it were too much, I wouldn’t have bought it.” He clasped it around her wrist. “It matches your dress.”
She swiveled her wrist, letting the sunlight streaming through her bedroom window catch the facets of the diamonds. “Thank you. You make me feel beautiful.”
“You are beautiful. Sei bella.” He turned her to face him and kissed her lips. Then he trailed along her jaw, down her throat, over her collarbone, whispering between every touch of his lips. “You’re strong…Sei forte…You’re sexy…Sei…”—he chuckled—“sexy…You’re the great love of my life…Sei il grande amore della mia vita…You’re my sun…Sei il mio sole.”
Pressing her body to his, she moaned. He moved his hands up her back to the zipper he’d just closed. He pulled it down.
“Nick, no.” The sigh that bore her words belied the sincerity of her protest. “We’re supposed to be at the church soon.”
“We’ll be there in time to see her walk down the aisle.” He eased the dress off her shoulders and brought it with him as he sank to his knees before her. He’d bought her the lingerie set she was wearing, too. Sheer lace in blush pink. It was a powerful aphrodisiac to see his woman dressed head to toe in his gifts.
He eased the panties off her hips. “I want to taste you before we go.”
~oOo~
They made it in time.
Nick had been surprised that Carmen wanted a big wedding. She wasn’t, he’d have said, the type. But seeing his Uncle Carlo beaming in the vestibule, he understood. The wedding was for her father. He was doing it up for his girl, and Carmen was letting him.
The church was completely full, both sides of the pews. The groom, Theo Wilde, was some kind of author, not a bestseller but an award-winner, and it looked like he had a great many friends.
Uncle Ben and Nick had discreetly provided heavy security around the church. Though Alvin Church had been ended at the beginning of the summer, and now the season was near its end, neither Nick nor Ben had thought complacency prudent. The people who had been their enemies had had no compunction about hurting innocents and attacking family events—in fact, family had been their preferred targets. In time, someone else would test the Paganos. Nick was determined to be ready whenever it happened.
In the meantime, he would enjoy life in its peace.
At his side, Beverly crossed one shap
ely leg over the other. He put his hand on her thigh, sliding his fingers under the hem of her lace dress. She wrapped her arms around his arm and laid her head on his shoulder. He kissed her head, lingering there, smelling her sweet shampoo.
Peace.
Carmen had two bridesmaids, Sabina and Rosa, and Theo had two groomsmen, his grown sons. Nick had only met one, the older, Eli. He was Rosa’s guy. The younger son was wearing his tux with a idiosyncratic flair that was scandalizing some of the more elderly guests. His evident eyeliner had caused some flutters, too.
The preparations had been fairly speedy for a wedding of this size. They’d only been engaged for a couple of months. And they lived in Maine now. The Pagano women of Quiet Cove—specifically Sabina, Adele, Angie, and Nick’s mother—had taken on the burden of the work. And Beverly had been pulled in, too.
Deep (The Pagano Family Book 4) Page 28