by Sam Mariano
I lean in to stage whisper, “Adrian’s going to murder this guy.”
Instead of seeming amused, Mateo actually looks vaguely concerned. “I’m going to have to tell him he’s not allowed.”
“I hope you have a back-up plan,” I murmur before easing off his lap.
Flashing me a secret smile, he says, “Always.”
Mateo places his glass down on the table next to Adrian’s and takes my hand, leading the way out of the study. Adrian heads for the exit, and Mateo glances right, then left. “All right, where should we start this tour?”
Glancing at Colin with a haughtily raised eyebrow, I say, “I recommend the dungeon.”
Colin’s smile slips. “Ye don’t have a dungeon.”
I nod meaningfully. “Oh, we have a dungeon.”
“I don’t think we have to show him that,” Mateo says, resting a hand on my waist as he pauses in the foyer. Glancing from Cherie to Colin, he adds, “I’m pretty sure Adrian’ll show it to him soon.”
Holding up his hands in surrender, Colin says, “Hey now, we’re all friends here.”
Apparently displeased with all the cock-blocking transpiring around her, Cherie sashays in front of us. “I say we start with the pool.” Glancing back at Colin, she says, “I love to put on my tiny little bikini and go for a swim.”
Hand to his heart, Colin shakes his head. “I could probably spend a little time in a dungeon. ‘Course, I can’t guard your bird from there,” he reminds Mateo.
“Flirt with her all you want, just keep it in your pants, McGregor.”
“These are tryin’ times,” he states, following after Cherie.
I grin, following a little more slowly, that way they get a little privacy. Cherie’s clearly appreciating the attention, and now that she’s pointed it out, I realize why that’s probably rare, despite how beautiful she is.
“Is this gonna be what it’s like for our daughters?” I ask Mateo, as we stroll toward the pool.
“Oh, no.” He shakes his head. “I’m installing a tower before they’re old enough to date.”
“Tall tower?”
“No door. We’ll helicopter up to visit them.”
I nod. “That seems reasonable.”
“I’ll have to update the dungeon before then, too,” he adds.
“You’re such a busy man,” I state. “Are you building a tower for our son, or is that much equality too much to hope for?”
“Of course not,” he says, exaggeratedly puffing up his chest. “Our son will be out in the world, searching for a nice girl to blackmail or otherwise force into a relationship.”
I nod. “Sexism for the win, got it.”
Winking at me and tugging me a little closer, he says, “No take-backs.”
I roll my eyes with an indulgent smile, curling into his embrace. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”
THE END… or is it?
DELETED SCENE
[In the story, this scene would take place the morning after Meg and Mia had a girls’ night and passed out in Mateo’s bed, before Meg woke up in bed alone….]
Mia
As soon as my eyes open, pain pierces my skull and I squeeze them shut again. Oh, God, why did I drink so much?
Meg. This is Meg’s fault.
I open my eyes again, remembering that I fell asleep in bed with her.
I do not expect to meet the brown-eyed gaze of Mateo Morelli. My eyes widen, increasing the shot of pain in my head, and I sink deeper into the bed.
“Oh, good,” I mutter.
Meg is still asleep, curled up against his half-naked body. I’m not sure if he’s still in bed because he doesn’t want to wake her up, or just because he lives to torment and he wanted me to wake up and realize I shared his bed again—even if innocently and without knowing.
“Good morning,” he murmurs amiably.
“This is weird,” I state, pulling the blanket up to cover myself.
Mateo rolls his eyes at me. “I’ve already seen your body, Mia.”
“Yes, I remember,” I respond dryly. “Last time I woke up in this bed with you, naked and traumatized. Good times.”
He flicks a glance at Meg, making sure she’s still asleep. Then his gaze returns to me, expression dry. “You survived.”
“Didn’t think I’d be back,” I inform him, though it’s not 100% true. All things considered, I spent less time in his bed than I probably could have, if Vince wouldn’t have come around.
“They always come back,” he says with a faint smirk.
I roll my eyes at his arrogance. “Because they have no choice.”
He shrugs, as if that doesn’t matter.
“Please don’t tell Vince I slept in your bed last night,” I say, already anticipating him making waves at dinner.
“I won’t.”
I’m obviously not convinced, and the look I shoot back conveys as much.
“I already promised Meg I wouldn’t,” he adds.
My gaze falls to Meg, nestled against him. I smile faintly. I never thought we’d like each other, but I really do kinda love this crazy chick. Lack of friendship is one of the hardest parts of Morelli life so far; the friends you had before don’t understand, and you can’t really be honest with any new ones. Now that Meg’s here, I have a friend, and Mateo has someone who only belongs to him. “You seem happy with her,” I tell him.
“I am.”
“Good.”
It’s the last thing I expect to happen, literally ever, but after a few seconds, Mateo says, “Thank you.”
Shaking my head a bit in confusion, I blink a few times before saying, “For what?”
Mateo looks down at her again, studying her eyes, her breathing pattern. I think he’s making sure she’s really asleep and not playing possum. Once he’s satisfied, he says, “You could’ve made her hate me with the truth.”
Smiling, I stare up at the ceiling. “A brilliant man once advised me to lie, said people would love me for it.”
“He was right,” Mateo says lightly.
“She might still love you, if she knew,” I offer, though I can’t say for sure. Maybe Meg isn’t a jealous woman, but that wouldn’t have anything to do with jealousy. Perhaps seeing that I’m obviously not broken because of it would allow her to move past it, but maybe not.
“I doubt it,” he returns. “But she never will, so that’s irrelevant.”
I nod, thinking of the gifts he’s showered down on me ever since I lied to Meg. Not that he needed to, but the obvious tokens of gratitude are nice. “Nope, she never will.”
“I appreciate that.”
I glance over at him, smiling faintly. “My loyalty’s yours, remember?”
His gaze warms, but it makes my stomach feel weird, so I avert my gaze.
“I’m going to go get breakfast,” I tell him, pushing the covers off and climbing from his bed. Before I can escape his company, I need to find my phone. I know I had it in the bed last night, and although the latter part of the evening is a bit fuzzy, I don’t recall getting up to put it away. Leaning over, I pat down the bed, feeling around for something hard. My gaze drifts across the bed to Meg again, to Mateo’s arm curled possessively around her. I remember he used to hold me the same way, though obviously there was no real tenderness behind the embrace when it was me in her place.
He notices me watching, so I go ahead and voice my thoughts, “Would you have been like that with me?”
I can’t believe I asked. I remain calm on the outside, but there’s a stampede going in my stomach right about now.
Mateo doesn’t even need time to consider it. “Yes.”
That shouldn’t tug at my heart, but it does—just a little.
Instead of betraying that, I smile. “I guess it’s a good thing we moved out then.”
The corners of Mateo’s mouth tug upward as well. “Yes, I suppose it is.”
My fingers finally curl around the hard surface of my cell phone and I straighten, glancing at the display. Three missed texts from Vince
. I should probably call him and let him know everything’s okay. Poor guy. He was not excited about this girls’ night plan.
Sparing Mateo one last glance, I tell him, “Well, I’ll see you at dinner.”
“Tell Vince I said hi,” he says, his tone laced with mischief.
I turn back just long enough to give him a playfully narrowed glare, but I know he’s just teasing. Not because he wouldn’t torment me—obviously he would—but because he promised Meg, and I don’t care what she says, she’s harnessed him.
His playful little smirk makes me sigh, so I shake my head and leave Mateo’s bedroom, pulling the door shut behind me.
If you want to be Mateo’s Sweetheart, we have this nifty Facebook group
PREORDER BOOK THREE HERE
ALSO: If you haven’t read the Irreparable duet (Irreparable Damage and Irreparable Lives) and you would like to without spoilers, READ THEM NOW. Morelli book three will spoil the shit out of that duet. Seriously. All the spoilers. Be brave. There’s a good chance you’re gonna start chapter two and go “WTF? NO.” But just remember, you survived Accidental Witness—and you survived Mateo! You’re a total Sam Mariano approved book badass now. I’m gonna take care of you. Trust me. ;)
And now, a surprise sneak peek at Adrian’s story!
Once Burned (Morelli Family, #3)
Prologue
25 years ago…
It still feels like I’m on fire.
I can’t move. Even if not for the damage done to my body, they’ve wrapped me up in so much gauze I look more dead than alive.
I think of the time a couple Halloweens ago when I dressed up like a mummy. I bet I’d get more candy in this get-up than that one.
Someone’s sniffling. I can’t move my head, but I shift my eyes left and see my best friend sitting there, dark head bowed. The sniffling is coming from him. I’ve never seen Mateo cry before.
I try to speak, but I can’t move my mouth.
I have to wait for him to look at me again, to see my eyes are open now. It takes a few minutes, then his brown eyes, bloodshot and red-rimmed finally meet mine and all of a sudden my insides feel hollow, like a juicy watermelon after Mom finished scooping out its insides for a picnic over the summer.
Seeing I’m awake, he swipes a hand across his nose and stands a little straighter. “Hey.”
I can’t speak, but he might not know that. Either way, I’m not sure I’d answer him.
“Lucy brought me,” he explains, his eyes moving over my face, taking in all the gauze. “I had to see if you were okay.”
Luciana’s old enough to drive, but I’m surprised she put her neck out, bringing him here like this.
I try to speak again, forgetting I can’t. Just the slight movement of my facial muscles sends a shudder through me, and searing pain is my reward for the attempt.
“They said they gave you medicine, so it shouldn’t hurt so much. They… they said you’re gonna be okay.”
A new kind of pain sears me, not physical, but emotional. The memory of my father begging. My desperate mother sobbing, screaming, pleading, reaching for me.
I try to speak again. A sound comes out, but it’s not a word, and it hurts like hell.
Mateo shifts, attempting to anticipate whatever I’m trying to get out, but his face registers no comprehension. Not sure why it would, I guess, but I’m flustered all the same.
I try again, and manage a “Muh…”
I want to cry with how much it hurts, but I can’t even cry.
I watch Mateo’s face fall and he goes to step back, but stops, realizing I can’t follow him. Pushing closer to the bed, he reaches out a hand, but mine isn’t there to take; it’s wrapped up in all the gauze.
“Your mom?” he asks.
I can’t nod, but I try to convey with my eyes that yeah, I want to know about my mom.
He looks at the bed instead of me, and that’s when I know.
Mateo whispers, “I’m sorry, Adrian.”
My eyes burn with tears I can’t shed. My face burns with pain. Everything hurts, and here stands my best friend, telling me he’s sorry like it counts. Like it means anything. Like it helps.
The heart monitor I’m hooked up to starts to go haywire and Mateo backs up, startled, scared. A nurse comes hustling in to check on me and frowns at the sight of an eight-year-old in here by himself.
“You’re not supposed to be in here without an adult, honey.”
“He’s my friend,” Mateo explains, like that should be good enough.
“I understand that, honey, but you can’t be in here by yourself. Why don’t you go find your mom or dad, and you can come back in with one of them.”
“But…”
Mateo just stands there, looking a little lost. Of course the nurse can’t know that his mom’s dead and his dad’s the one who put me here.
But I do.
With one last long look, my best friend, Mateo Morelli, swears, “It’s gonna be okay, Adrian. I’ll come back for you.”
This time I’m glad I can’t speak. As much as everything hurts, as much as I’ve lost this night, I don’t think I could bear looking at my best friend and telling him to stay the hell away from me.
About the Author
Sam Mariano has been writing stories since before she could actually write. In college, she studied psychology and English, because apparently she never wanted to make any money!
Sam lives in Ohio with a fantastic little girl who loves to keep her from writing. She appreciates the opportunity to share her characters with you; they were tired of living and dying in her hard drive. (The Morellis actually did die in her old hard drive, but she resurrected them so you guys could meet them! You’re welcome, or she’s sorry, depending on how you feel right now.)
Feel free to find Sam on Facebook, Goodreads, Twitter, or her blog—she loves hearing from readers! She’s also available on Instagram now @sammarianobooks, and you can sign up for her newsletter HERE
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