by Sam Mariano
“Vince never liked you. I should’ve paid more attention to that.”
He tries to appease me. “I’m a friend, not a foe.”
“Then let go of Mia,” I say, calmly. He has about 30 seconds, then my “don’t traumatize Mia anymore today” whim expires and I shoot the asshole in the face.
What if he really would pull her in front of him? I guess I can’t shoot him in the face just yet. He’s blabbering about not wanting to get shot. I tell him the longer his hands are on Mia, the greater chance I blow a new hole into his face.
He releases Mia’s arm. I want her to immediately flee his side and come to mine, but she doesn’t. “Get over here,” I bark.
My command is all it takes—she flies to my side. Her nerves are in tatters as she fidgets, looking from Mark to me, looking at my gun. She so close I can feel her. If I swayed just an inch to the left, I could brush her arm.
I want her closer.
I always want her closer.
Mark starts talking business, so at least I have a distraction. If anyone would have told me six months ago that I would be talking business in front of a woman and not worrying about it, I would have laughed in their face. It doesn’t bother me at all that Mia is beside me, though. That’s where she fucking should be.
Well, not in danger. Beside me, but in far safer conditions.
A memory I try not to revisit often surfaces, my favorite day with Mia. The Saturday I cost myself her affection is best forgotten since it spun so quickly from the best day to the worst, but once in a while, I still drag out the memory of her sitting beside me on my bed, painting her nails. Out of all our memories together, I don’t know why that’s my favorite, but it is.
I guess it’s the closest I ever came to actually having her.
Maybe that’s why it’s my favorite.
Once the business is taken care of, unfortunately, this Mark asshole gets to leave the hotel room alive. I guess even if he does have a hopeless crush on Mia, I shouldn’t kill people who want to keep her alive—not until I look into them a little more, at least. I let my temper get the better of me for a moment, but helplessness and fear are not feelings I’m accustomed to. I could probably handle them slightly better, if I tried.
Right now all I want to do is hold Mia. I tuck my phone away and turn back to her. Relief is painted all across her pretty features—she was probably worried I would kill her baker buddy.
I grip her hips firmly, turning her toward me and lining them up with mine. The look in her eyes changes. They’re always overflowing with emotions, advertising her feelings even if she tries not to. Right now I swear I see yearning in the depths of her blue eyes. I try to concentrate on what she just asked—is anyone waiting outside to kill Mark?
No, that kill was all mine. Should’ve been, anyway. Still might be, but not in front of her.
“No,” I tell her, gazing down at her face. Everything feels lighter, looking at her. “I was going to handle that one myself.”
Now that the actual threat has passed, she can afford to look a little impressed that I was willing to take some guy out for her.
Silly Mia. I’d take a hundred guys out for her. A thousand. I’d burn down the whole world until only we were left.
She wouldn’t like that, though, so I don’t. I lie in bed on occasion thinking about lighting the torch, but I don’t. I let her have peace.
Only right now, it doesn’t feel like peace is what she wants.
She fills the charged silence with words. “I have a lot of questions about a lot of things.”
My lips tug up faintly. “I can imagine.”
I have a lot of questions, myself. How many inches could I take right now? My hands are still firmly gripping her hips and they shouldn’t be. I was too relieved to control myself; I had to touch her in some way. I thought it might dim her, though.
I’d steal so many moments for myself if they didn’t cost her so much.
Last night when Meg went to brush her teeth, I wanted to touch Mia. I brushed past her just a little too close, and I could see her heart sinking in her eyes.
So many things I want to do with her and I can’t, because I had to have the poor fucking judgment to fall in love with a good person. Even now, her eyes swimming with feelings, her chest visibly working as she draws in breath, I’m afraid to escalate things. I’ve already pushed too far and cost myself her affections once. She avoided me like it was her religion until Meg came along. We had gotten back to a friendly place, but she only came over on Sundays with Vince. It became a fucking tradition of mine to retire to the surveillance room once she left and watch the tapes, pore over every single moment she spent under my roof to hold me over until I saw her a week later.
Right now she’s staying at my house. Last night, however platonic, she slept in my bed again. We’ve come a long fucking way.
On one hand, I want to push my hand into her hair, draw her close, and kiss her until she can’t breathe. Until she can’t think. Until her hands are tugging desperately at my clothes and she’ll let me lift this little sundress and bury myself inside her. I want her writhing with pleasure and screaming when I make her come—then I want to do it again, and again. I never want to stop. I want to fuck her for the rest of my life—even if that means never leaving this goddamn hotel room.
As if in response to my desires, she flushes. “I can’t believe you came for me.”
I can’t believe she thought I wouldn’t.
“As many times as you’ve come through for me, I think I owed you one,” I tell her.
She rolls her eyes at me, like that’s an absurd thing to say. “I don’t do you favors so you’ll owe me. There’s no one keeping track.”
“I always keep track,” I tell her.
Of all the people I owe favors, Mia damn sure tops the list. It’s absurd that she doesn’t know that. She’s so fucking innocent. So blind to what’s right in front of her.
Right now it doesn’t feel like she’s blind to it. Right now, I have her in my bubble again. The ache she left months ago opens back up. I want so badly to give her a little shove into the abyss, that way she has to join me here.
I can’t, though. She already looks so tormented. I know I’m doing this to her. I know it’s wrong. She doesn’t deserve my bullshit. She deserves peace.
I’ve tried to fucking hard to give it to her, but she deserves more than peace. She deserves happiness. She deserves to go to sleep next to a man who knows she’s more valuable than all the riches in the world. She deserves to be with someone who knows what he has when he has her, not some asshole who actively tries to make her feel badly about herself.
She deserves better than Vince. She deserves much better than me, too, but at least I know no one else would ever treasure her the way I do. No one else sees Mia the way I see her. If anyone did, she wouldn’t be wasting her fucking time with Vince.
It’s not enough. It’s not enough to just have her in my life. It’s not enough to have her at my dinner table, to coax her into sleepovers with a person in bed between us.
I want more.
I glance at the bed in this hotel room. I could take more. I could take more right now.
It would break her, though. I recall the car ride home from the poker game when she couldn’t even speak to me. That was when Vince was the only collateral—when the asshole was getting a house out of it, and he never even had to know.
Mia can’t lie.
And I have Meg now.
I can’t do it. Mia won’t be able to fucking handle it.
I swallow down my aggravation and gaze down into the face of the woman who means everything to me. The woman I can’t fucking have. I think she’s a gentle breeze away from falling apart. She looks terrified and lost. Longing hits her with a shame chaser and she doesn’t know what to do with it.
“We should leave,” she finally says, swallowing, trying to push down all the feelings swelling up in her tender heart.
I nod my agreement.
I should save her the trouble, I should let her out of this moment, but I don’t. I’m a selfish fucking bastard, and I want to soak up every last second. “We should.”
Instead of moving away from me, she slowly raises her arms and rests them on my shoulders. I can’t help feeling a little hopeful as her gentle hands move over my shoulders and she wraps them around my neck.
My heart pounds as she brings her body against mine.
She’s hugging me.
She’s just hugging me.
I wrap my arms around her tiny waist and pull her closer. I can feel her trembling ever so slightly so I move one of my hands up to caress her back, trying to reassure her.
I don’t even know what I’m reassuring her of.
Go ahead and hug me, I promise I won’t ruin your life?
Go ahead and kiss me if you want to, I promise I’ll make amends to anyone you can’t handle wronging?
Go ahead and do whatever you want, because my heart only beats when you’re around?
She leans her head against my shoulder and I squeeze her tighter.
I can pretend for as long as I want that she’s not the person I think of every night when I climb into bed and close my eyes, but I can’t make it true.
I can’t be happy without her.
Maybe she can’t be happy without me, either.
Regardless of how unhappy she is, Mia will never be the person who strikes the match that sets someone else’s world on fire. If our world has to catch on fire for me to have her, I have to be the one to do it.
She’ll never take what she wants if it means hurting someone else.
I will.
Just not her. Not more than necessary, anyway.
This is going to be messy, but I don’t care. Fuck it.
Like she can feel me plotting something she won’t like, Mia pulls out of the hug. Tries to pull away, but I keep a firm hold on her hips and yank her close. A helpless noise slips out of her, part denial, part yearning. I know she feels my cock pressing against her. I know she feels the evidence of how fucking much I want her. I’m sorely tempted to back her up against the wall, spread her legs, and slide my cock inside her. I can hear her crying out, feel her warm heat as she takes all of me.
Fuck.
The same desire coursing through my veins and making me so hard it fucking hurts is reflected back at me in her eyes. Mine is hard and wanting though, hers is vulnerable. I could take advantage of this weak moment, but she would pay dearly for it.
I can’t do that to her.
I want to—oh, how I fucking want to.
But I won’t.
I watch her struggle, but I don’t step in. I don’t turn her thoughts off and light her body on fire. I don’t fill her up with my cock, kiss the sensitive skin of her neck, hold her close while I fuck all these goddamn feelings into her.
Nope. I wait until she musters the strength to pull back, and this time, I let her.
She looks a little like she’s spinning out of control, like she can feel how close she came to the edge. Turning away from me, she heads for the door, like she needs to escape.
I could use a breather, too, if I wanted to emerge from this haze. I don’t, though. I want to stay here forever. I want to make my home in this haze.
“Well, thank you,” Mia manages, her voice wobbling as she tries to pull off an unaffected tone. “For coming to my rescue.”
I can’t help smiling. “Even villains save the day sometimes.”
Then she surprises the hell out of me by muttering, “I wish you were still a villain.”
Oh, does she, now?
“What was that?”
“Nothing,” she assures me, all innocence, as she reaches for the doorknob.
Oh no, she doesn’t get to utter something like that and slip away. I cross the small space between us and push her up against the door, reaching for her hand and steadying it. I hear her inhale sharply, feel her soften as my body presses against hers. I grind my hips against her ass so she feels how hard it is for me not to fuck her right now. Another helpless sound slips out of her and goes through my veins like the sweetest fucking drug. This is fucking torture. Her perfect ass is just right here, tempting my hands to grab it. Her pussy is so close, and I know how wet she would be if I touched her. I don’t just want to be inside her, I need to.
And I fucking can’t.
Not yet, anyway.
“Be careful what you wish for, sweetheart,” I murmur silkily, my lips so close to touching her skin.
She doesn’t say anything back. She breathes hard, but she doesn’t push back against me to try to push me away, doesn’t give me even the flimsiest excuse to take what I want from her. One word. One look. One touch.
She doesn’t give it to me.
I don’t expect her to.
It can’t start like this. This would be wrong. I thought because she was forgiving I could get away with anything, and that’s how I lost her to begin with. That’s why she isn’t mine right now. I can give her that impression, that I’ll do what I want and she’ll fall in line, but I know to tread carefully over her soft spots.
I won’t make the same mistake twice.
This time, I will build my plan around Mia’s needs.
This time, I will not lose her.
FAMILY TIES
DELETED SCENE: BOOK FOUR
After Francesca and Mateo talk in his study and he apologizes to her.
Before the scene at the pool.
Mateo
After my chat with Francesca, I could really use a stiff drink. It won’t take my mind off things, but that’s the last thing I need now anyway. I’ve wasted enough of everyone’s time with indecisiveness. It’s time to enact a new plan, but before I take the first step, I’m going to take one last stab at doing the right thing—because I’ve obviously excelled at that up to now.
I hear the study door drift open. I’ve only invited one person here, so I go ahead and grab a second glass without looking up. I’m actually not comfortable with my back to him, haven’t been for a while now, but I’d rather die than ever let him know that. So, I take my time with the drinks, knowing he’s back there fighting the urge in this rare moment alone to pull his gun out and shoot me with it.
“You wanted to see me?”
The resentment, the dislike for me is present in his tone, like always. A grudge he nurses every day, burning up what’s still good in him. Giving Mia less and less to love.
“Sit,” I say, grabbing our drinks and heading back to my desk. I lean against the front edge, and as Vince approaches, I watch him war with his desire to remain equal. He doesn’t want to sit and let me look down at him, but I nod for him to take a seat anyway.
His jaw ticks, but he drops into the chair in front of my desk. I hand him his drink and take a sip of mine, watching him.
He throws back all of it, as if to emphasize that he’d like to get this over with and get away from me as expediently as possible.
I don’t rush though, so he’s just stuck sitting there, absently spinning the now-empty glass in his hands and waiting for me to speak. I can’t decide if it was a good idea to call this meeting so quickly. Probably should’ve slept on it. I’m in a weird mood today. Maybe it’s Francesca’s influence. Maybe the urge to pour gas into a car without a motor is an impulse I should’ve squelched.
But what the hell, he’s here, I might as well.
“You’re going to lose her.”
Vince’s eyes flash to mine, his hatred for me igniting, making him taut with poorly restrained fury. “Is that a threat?”
“No,” I say, a slight chuckle escaping me. “No, that’s not a threat, Vince. It’s an observation. A warning. One you’d do well to heed.”
He shakes his head in disbelief, his gaze dropping to the desk. “You’re unbelievable. Meg’s not enough for you, huh?”
“This isn’t about Meg,” I state. “It’s not about me, either. It’s about you and Mia. I know I fucked things up for you be
fore. I know I hurt you both. But we’re family, and right now I’m trying to look out for you. I see you severely mishandling your relationship and I want to help. I’d like to give you some advice that will make you both happier.”
“I don’t need or want your advice, Mateo. I think I can handle my own girlfriend.”
“Clearly.” Rolling my eyes at his futile dramatics, I tell him, “We both know Mia has feelings for me. She’s always going to. You need to stop punishing her for that and accept it.”
“That’s easy for you to say,” he states, his anger bubbling up, since I’m making him acknowledge what he tries so hard to ignore.
“I’ve been betrayed before, too, Vince. You don’t have to inhale it with every breath you take. You don’t have to curl up and go to sleep with it every night. You still have Mia. She’s yours right now. You can choose to be bitter instead of enjoying her, but don’t expect her to stick around if you do.” Pointing at my chest, meeting his eyes, I tell him, “I’m not the threat this time. You’re dangerously close to chasing her off yourself. You need to handle your shit better if you want to keep her.”
He seems to consider my words for a moment, but they don’t appease him. “I’m just supposed to be okay with sharing her love with you? That’s your solution?”
“Unless you want her sharing more than that,” I state mildly. “Unless you don’t want it to be sharing at all. She can leave you now,” I remind him. “Mia doesn’t like hurting people; she’s not going to initiate anything between us. As long as I don’t, you’ll be fine.”
Vince scoffs, shaking his head like he can’t even believe what an asshole I am. He should be able to believe it by now. He’s been around for nearly twenty years. “That puts me right back at square one, doesn’t it? I pour my heart and soul into that goddamn girl and as soon as you get bored, you blow up my relationship just for shits and giggles. Even if I could trust her not to start anything, I damn sure can’t trust you.”
“You can if you make her happy. If you can make her legitimately happy, I’ll let you keep her. I won’t make waves. But actual happiness, none of this bullshit where she pretends everything is fine every Sunday. I’m tired of that. Mia’s a terrible actress.”