by Bethany-Kris
“Get in the car,” he told her. “Because I’m trying very hard to remain a gentleman, Cella, but you make it hard, cara mia.”
“You have a way with words, but I’m sure you know that.”
“Get in the car, woman.”
She did, laughing the whole way. Marcus certainly tested his limits and enjoyed teasing Cella when he could, but the woman knew how to give it back to him just as strong. He liked that a little too much for his own good, really.
Just before he rounded his side of the vehicle, the phone in his pocket buzzed.
Again.
The tenth time, at least, this morning.
Marcus had cleared his schedule for the weekend, and made sure everybody that needed to know did. He didn’t want anybody calling unless there was no other choice because the boss had to be involved in whatever emergency came up. Still, it annoyed him like nothing else to pull the cell phone out, and see his brother’s number on the screen.
Chris, that was.
There was no way, on Saturday of all days, the first day of his weekend, something had already gone wrong. Marcus ignored the call. He had better things to do and other people to take care of for the moment.
Like the woman staring at him from the passenger seat, waiting.
And the little girl in the backseat.
Chris would understand.
If not, well then, he’d get over it.
• • •
“Christopher, if someone isn’t dead to explain why you’re calling my phone every ten minutes when you know I have other things to handle this weekend—”
“Thanks for finally picking up,” his brother replied cheerfully, although still managing to sound sour at the same time.
Marcus scowled, pinching the bridge of his nose but remembering where he was at the same time. He had just enough sense to turn his back to the indoor playground where he’d brought Tiffany to burn off all her energy once their breakfast crawled closer to noon. The place sported entire climbing gyms, trampolines, rock walls, ball pools, and far more. It was even big enough for the adults to get in and play with the kids, if they wanted.
Exactly what a high energy child like Tiffany needed to burn off energy. All his other plans for her and Cella would happen tomorrow, but he figured this would be enough for the girl to have lots of fun today, anyway.
“You’re really testing my patience lately,” Marcus warned.
His brother chuckled dryly. “Same, man.”
“You know, I’m almost positive Papa never had as much trouble with his intended underboss or consigliere that I have with you sometimes.”
“Nah, you’re just in a mood and I’m not here for your shit, Marcus, that’s all.”
Jesus Christ.
Yes, that’s what he needed.
Jesus.
To save him from killing his brother.
“Don’t you think,” Chris started to say, annoying Marcus even more with just his tone alone, “that if I was calling all morning, it might mean there was something going on that I wanted to bring to your attention?”
“What did I say about this weekend?”
“Marcus—”
“No, my bit is important, Chris.”
“So is mine!”
“I am sure whatever it is, it could have waited for Monday.”
“Oh, you think? Because I’m not so sure. And pretty soon, I suspect word is going to get back to Papa about all this shit going on, and then neither one of us will be very happy. Hmm?”
Fuck.
He had a point.
“I just want the weekend,” he told his brother. “That’s it. Why can’t I have it?”
“Because the boss never gets a day off, man. Welcome to la famiglia—you’re in, and there isn’t any way out.”
Yeah.
Didn’t Marcus know it?
“Whatever it is, it’s that important that you want to bring it to my attention?” he asked quietly.
“I wouldn’t have called otherwise, okay? I know you’re ... doing your thing with the chick from New York, and all.”
“She has a name.”
“I know her name, Marcus,” Chris replied, “and I also know that whenever someone brings her up to you, you get defensive as fuck like you need to protect her. You know where she comes from, right? Her father was the underboss to—”
“I know who her father is, thank you.”
“Just saying.”
“Tell me what the issue is, Chris.”
Before I get annoyed again.
Marcus was dangerously close to just hanging up the phone, but as annoyed as Chris made him sometimes—and he swore he loved his brother to fucking death—the man also wasn’t stupid. Just like him, his brother had been raised in this life, too. He knew how to act, and what was expected of him when it came to his boss, brother or not.
“I have it on good sources that the vice president took over after the whole ... death of their president thing,” Chris replied.
“Please tell me that’s not your breaking news I just had to know.”
Because frankly, Marcus expected that outcome. He’d simply hoped that the lesson of the Guzzi boss ordering the hit on the president of the motorcycle club would be enough to teach the vice president that they were no longer playing games here. The Guzzis were done entertaining their bullshit, and they needed to move on.
“No, that’s not all.”
“Keep going then, keep my interest.”
“Could you cut the attitude?”
Marcus thought about it.
For all of two seconds.
“No, not particularly.”
“You’re fucking insufferable.”
“And you’re wasting my time.”
“The sources say the VP has been making calls—all across Canada, apparently.”
“I don’t follow.”
“To other chapters around the country, Marcus. Calling in for help, basically. From what I understand, he’s been saying you ordered the hit on their chapter’s president without provocation.”
“That’s bullshit,” Marcus snapped, “and anyone here involved with the business would know it, too.”
Hell, the entire reason he ordered that hit was because the bikers kept coming back for more. Their provocations against the Guzzis became progressively more and more violent and problematic until they gave him no other choice but to act against them. No boss in this position, but especially one who was only the acting boss, wanted to find themselves in a war with a rival in a nearby city.
And yet, they forced his hand.
He wouldn’t pay more for that.
Absolutely not.
Now his patience was running thin for an entirely different reason. Either the bikers were just incredibly stupid, or far too confident for their own good. A hit from the mob on one of their people should have been more than enough to end this little problem. And yet, it only made the assholes look for yet another way to use it to go against the Guzzi family.
“They’re trying to get others to ride in, I guess,” Chris said, “a bigger threat in numbers, and all that. There’s a very good chance that it’ll work, too, considering the way the chapters tend to band together with one another when business is threatened. The chapter in Quebec isn’t that big of a threat to us, Marcus, but the club as a whole ... that’s a different story.”
“Or we’ll put word through for a warning against anyone coming into Ontario or Quebec with the intention to go against the Guzzis means they have signed their death warrants. Dad has had good relations with the clubs across Canada for years. That’s not going to change just because the fucks in Quebec have a problem.”
“Already planned to do that, but—”
“I’m not entertaining these people anymore, Chris. Do you know what their plan is for sure?”
“Not particularly.”
“Okay, well let me know when you do, then.”
“Marcus, this is important.”
“
No, it’s inevitable, and you know what my plan B is for them. We went with plan A, and so if it didn’t work, we wait until they force me into plan B. Otherwise, there’s nothing else I care to do or say here with them. They’re playing games, and bosses don’t do that. I don’t sit down at the table to play games with someone else, not when I have better things to do.”
Marcus sighed, his brother waiting for him to finish whatever he planned to say, but otherwise staying quiet. For once in their whole conversation. He appreciated that. Turning a bit to stare over his shoulder, he just caught sight of Tiffany running across a netted, wobbly bridge while her mother chased after her.
He would much rather be there ... with them.
That was the whole point of this day.
Still, he went back to his conversation, hoping Cella hadn’t noticed his distraction with his phone because she was too busy attending to her daughter. “Listen,” he told his brother, “I’m a young, new boss—they’re just seeing how far they can push, and that’s all. I bet it’ll be the same shit with anyone that rolls into town thinking they’re going to go on a row with us. Everyone has to see how far they can get with a new boss before he pushes back. If they continue with the plan to bring people into town, and they step over the lines we’ve drawn, then we go to plan B, Chris. My stance isn’t changing on that.”
“Plan B is a mess, Marcus.”
“Yeah, well ...”
What could they do?
“How do you plan to get away with wiping out an entire chapter, huh?”
“Well, we’re not there yet, so let’s worry about it if we have to cross that bridge.”
“If, or when?” Chris asked quietly.
Yeah, that was a good question.
And not one he had an answer to, either.
“Marcus, come play!”
Glancing over his shoulder, he found Tiffany waving to him from the tallest tower of the indoor play gym. Behind her in the small window, Cella winked his way and smiled. To his brother, Marcus replied, “If, Chris, not when. It is always if because, despite who we are and the things we do in this business that make us bad, we are still honorable where it counts. And so that means we give people the chance to correct their wrongs before we act against them for what we assume they might do to us.”
“You sound just like Dad.”
Well, he’d learned from the best, hadn’t he?
“Call me back if you learn more,” Marcus said.
“Will do. Enjoy your weekend—although I’ll see you tomorrow at the mansion, hmm?”
“We’ll be there.”
“Her, too?”
Marcus smiled. “Yes, her too.”
Once the two said goodbye, he hung up the phone and pocketed the device even though he didn’t turn it off. He wouldn’t be ignoring anymore of his brother’s calls, but he suspected Chris wouldn’t call back unless he had no other choice, either.
Coming to stand next to the large piece of play equipment, Marcus glanced upward and smiled at the two ladies looking down at him. “Now, how exactly am I supposed to get up there?”
Cella looked all too pleased with herself when she replied, “The same way we did—climb, jump, and crawl your way up.”
“You think I won’t?”
“In that silk shirt and those pressed pants, Marcus? I don’t know.”
She made a disbelieving noise to go along with her statement.
“How little faith you have in me, mon amour.”
A little play didn’t scare him, and his godson—along with the rest of his nieces and nephews—had taught him when it came to kids and fun, fuck all else mattered. You were going to get dirty, you would be tired, and it would still be fun.
Marcus glanced up, and gave Cella a wink before he headed into the domed entrance of the play gym. He heard Tiffany’s accompanying happy shout—her celebration that he agreed to join them. He also hadn’t missed that softness in Cella’s stare, either.
It almost haunted him.
Even though he liked it.
That look on her face?
It spoke of falling in love; of being ready to fall. But with the fall came a crash. And God, he knew that feeling all too well now because of her.
He still wondered ... would there be a crash?
She liked this man she saw now, but would she like the same man if she knew he had just been on the phone planning the slaughter of a rival organization?
Because those two men? This one she liked, and the one she didn’t know? They were the same.
Marcus wasn’t sure if she understood that, though.
And he was too much of a coward to ask.
10.
“I know this wasn’t part of the plan for this weekend, but—”
Marcus laughed, using the arm that wasn’t busy holding a tired Tiffany over his shoulder to pull Cella closer to his side as they rode the elevator higher to his mother and father’s penthouse. She peered up at him, her lips tilting upward in her happiness before he dropped a kiss to the crown of her head. Those lashes of hers fluttered shut while he lingered there, not even pulling back from the kiss as he murmured, “No worries, it’s fine. I’m happy to do whatever you want while you’re here. Even if what you want to do is work.”
Her eyes popped open again. “I just want to ... envision.”
“I have no idea what you’re envisioning.”
His teasing wasn’t missed. She smacked his stomach with the back of her hand, giving him a look at the same time. All he gave her in response to that was a shrug and a grin. What more could he do?
He found that teasing this woman was a form of foreplay in and of itself. She might not realize it, but he certainly did and he didn’t plan to give it up anytime soon.
Or her ...
He wasn’t sure he wanted to give her up, either.
“What’s that for?” she asked softly.
Marcus’s brow lifted. “What’s what for?”
“That look.”
“What look?”
He knew exactly what she meant, but fuck it if he wasn’t still a man at the end of the day with more pride than brains sometimes. There was also that whole fear of being vulnerable to someone else, he supposed. It was hard for him to let down that wall, even if everything about Cella screamed it was safe for him to do exactly that.
“When you just ... stare at me,” she said, reaching up to cup the side of his cheek with her palm. The warmth of her skin soaked into his, and he was more caught up in that feeling than anything else at the moment. “Your eyes soften, you just smile, and I wonder what’s going on in your head when you do it.”
“You see all that when I’m staring at you, hmm?”
“Yes.”
Marcus nodded. “When I stare at you ...”
Cella’s gaze stayed locked on his, and Marcus winked the longer she stayed quiet. Because frankly, she had answered her own question, and he didn’t think she really needed for him to add his own explanation. Not when it was obvious.
He looked that way when he stared at her because it was her.
And she was amazing.
Cella let loose a quiet sigh, her gaze breaking away from his as her throat flexed with a swallow. Her attention went to the girl that was still snoring lightly away on Marcus’s shoulder, and her smile grew a bit wider. “She must be getting heavy.”
“Not really.”
“She doesn’t usually sleep so hard—I think today really tired her out.”
“Good. And she had fun, so that’s what matters.”
“Too much fun, maybe,” Cella replied, snorting under her breath.
“No such thing as too much fun, Cella.”
“Have you never seen a toddler that’s had just too much? Too much sugar, or stimulation ... whatever? They’re like—”
“Little monsters on steroids, yes I know. I have nieces and nephews, one of which is my godson who I take on the weekends pretty regularly to give his mother and father a break. He was named afte
r me, but we mostly just call him Marc.”
“Right, I met them at the dinner party.”
Marcus grinned. “Mmhmm, so I do know. I just think they’re only kids once. And they’re little, so they don’t understand. Is it really their fault if the adults around them indulge them too much? Can they be blamed, then?”
“The kids must love you, huh?”
“Well ...”
Basically, yeah.
Cella’s gaze drifted back to her daughter as she said, “You know, she’s not forgotten at all that you promised to take her to a maple syrup farm. In fact, she mentions it at least once a day.”
“I’ll take her. We have a farm in Eastern Ontario that is actually open to the public, so people can do tours and whatnot. We’re not in the season right now, won’t be for a while, but they have a small staff that keeps certain things open for tourism in the summer. She can still see the basics, even if she won’t be able to tap a tree and see it all from start to finish. I’m working on it. And then when we are in the maple season, I’ll take her out again, so she can do everything that she wants.”
Cella cleared her throat, quieting.
Marcus didn’t miss it. “Did I say something wrong?”
“When is the season?”
“Beginning of the year.”
“It’s summer now.”
“And?” he asked.
Cella looked his way. “I just ... you expect we’re going to be around then?”
Oh.
Yeah.
He knew what he said, now.
“I certainly hope so, Cella.”
There.
It was out there.
No taking it back.
Cella wet her lips and glanced up at the lights above the elevator illuminating floor levels that said they were almost to the penthouse. “Me too, Marcus.”
Shifting the girl on his shoulder so that her little head tucked into his neck better for cushion, Marcus added, “And tomorrow, Ma is having all the grandkids over. She’s planned this for two months, making sure everybody and their brood could come and have a summer party. It’s not often she gets all of them together like that. I thought Tiffany would have a lot of fun, and you, too, with the rest of us.”