by Bella Emy
Furrowing my brows yet again, I ask through a chuckle, “What the hell are you talking about?”
Quickly realizing what I’ve said, I shoot Mom a look, who is now glaring at me. “Watch your language, mister.”
I shrug. “Sorry, Ma.”
Max speaks again and points at Gianna without grabbing her attention. “Big blue eyes, gorgeous long, flowing curls… She’s going to be a heartbreaker, for sure. All the little boys will be lined up outside your house, waiting to take her out.”
This realization has dawned on me many times, but I always quickly threw it out of my head. I know my little girl is going to have guys calling her, asking to go out with her, but it’s not something I’m looking forward to—and not something I think I will ever be ready for.
Gianna is my little girl, my princess. These little boys my brother is referring to better look the other way and keep it moving. Her daddy doesn’t play. I’m ready to kill the first guy who tries anything with my baby.
Marianna cuts in before I have a chance to speak. “Yeah, and you’ll be standing right next to Enz with Dad, and the three of you will be holding rifles, scaring off those poor boys.”
“Ain’t that the truth,” Mom says, giggling.
Marianna nods. “Ma and I will be desperately trying to calm her down. She’s got an old-school Italian grandpa, a crazy uncle, and an ill-tempered daddy who are going to embarrass her on more than one occasion, I’m sure.”
“It’s in her best interest that people know not to break her heart,” I say.
“Break her heart, or even look at her?” Max asks.
I smirk. “They’d better not look at her.”
“And that’s the truth,” Mom says, laughing again as she takes a seat to my dad’s right.
Gianna tugs on my sleeve. “Daddy, what are you guys talking about?”
I smile down at my baby girl who’s oblivious to it all, and I’m so thankful for that right now. “Nothing, sweetheart. Eat up. We have to get going soon. You have school tomorrow.”
“K,” she answers and stabs a potato with her fork. Moments later, she tugs on my sleeve again.
“Yes, princess?”
“Can we get a mistletoe?”
My eyebrows narrow. “Mistletoe?”
“Yes! We decorated some at school on Friday. Please, Daddy! Can we?”
Max’s laughter causes me to look at him once more. “Mistletoe means kisses. It’s starting, bro. Like I said, Mother Nature will soon take its course. Payback, Enz. Payback.” He makes a kissing face at me.
I scowl.
Marianna intervenes. “Payback for who, Bozo? I already told you, you’re going to be feeling it too, the day she gets boys calling her. It’s going to be payback for all three of the Trevano men,” Marianna says.
I laugh. Marianna’s got a point. When that dreaded day comes, the three of us are going to be standing right behind my little girl, making sure there’s no funny business. Those boys will think twice before they try anything.
I lean down and place a kiss on my baby’s head. “Yes, sweetheart. We can get a mistletoe for our house.”
After Gianna and I get home, I give her a bath and tuck her into bed. She’s out after fifteen minutes of me reading her favorite fairytale to her: Snow White.
I leave the door to her room cracked open and walk out into the living room. I contemplate jogging off all the food I ate at Mom’s on the treadmill, but I don’t think I can right now. I’d probably vomit. I decide to hit the sack instead and watch TV until I pass out. I hate being lazy, but I don’t want to get sick.
I strip out of my clothes and change into a plain white T-shirt and a pair of plaid pajama pants. I climb into bed, lying on top of my comforter. If my mother could see me, she’d yell at me right now, saying I’ll mess up the quilt. She has a thing about comforters. I always thought they were meant to be used any way to be comfortable, hence the word comfort in them, but Mom seems to believe something else. I chuckle to myself and flip through some channels.
Once I feel myself start to doze off, I climb out of bed and remove my shirt. That alarm is going to sound before I know it, so I’d better try to get some sleep. I toss the pants to the side, so they land on the chair to the right of my bed, and pull the covers down.
Climbing back into bed, I find a comfortable position. Then I set the TV on a timer to turn off, and I close my eyes.
Tonight’s dinner conversation plays over in my mind. My brother is hilarious. If he thinks Gianna’s growing up is not going to have any effect on him, he’s got another thing coming. I remember the way he was so sure of himself when he moved the container of parmesan cheese—
Cheese.
Cream cheese.
Carissa… Luscious Lips.
No, I have to stop associating that phrase with her whenever I think about her. I know her name now, so no more calling her Luscious Lips, or Lushy, or anything of the sort.
What the hell am I saying, whenever I think about her? I need to stop thinking about her right now.
Damn, I was so close to not thinking about her all day. I kept my mind preoccupied the whole time so I wouldn’t have to think about our little chance encounter at the supermarket the other night, but I failed.
Now all I can see are her big brown eyes, perfect smile, and, of course, luscious lips.
Fuck, I’m in so much trouble. Now that I’ve seen her at the supermarket, I wonder if I’ll be running into her a lot more. If I do, I’m screwed.
But the truth is… I want to see her.
I hate to admit it. The way I’ve been feeling lately is making me feel like a horrible husband to my wife.
But she’s gone. Sylvia is gone and has been for five years now. When is it okay to start over? When is it okay to love again—or perhaps not even love, but date?
I flip to the other side, now lying toward my nightstand. I hate the fact I’m even thinking this way. It feels so wrong.
But Carissa makes me feel things I haven’t felt in so damn long.
I open my eyes, and the first thing I see is a picture of Sylvia from so long ago. I frown. “I’m so sorry, Sylvs.”
Chapter Eleven
Carissa
“Seriously, seventy-five dollars… for a damn oil change? Something’s not right. That seems stupid high. I don’t know; I wouldn’t do it. No. No, go to my mechanic. I’ll text you his info. His prices are very competitive, and he’s a hell of a mechanic. Yup. Yes, that’s him. Uh huh, that’s right. The owner. Very good with his hands, and he’s hot as hell. No, I wish! I think he’s married or something. Because the last time I was there, I noticed some pictures he has on the wall. But yeah, go visit him. He’ll give you a nice deal. Okay, I’ll see you tonight. Okay, bye.” Emy hangs up the phone before swinging her legs over the side of the couch to get comfortable.
“What was that about?”
She shrugs. “My cousin’s car needed an oil change. She took it to the mechanic herself since her boyfriend’s out of town, and he wanted to charge her an arm and a leg.”
I nod. “Yeah, I heard.”
Emy picks up her cell phone and scrolls through it. “I told her to go visit my mechanic. Uff… he’s fine.”
I chuckle. “I picked up on that too.”
She smiles up at me. “The next time I go, I’m taking you with me so you can see for yourself.”
I furrow my brows. “What’s the point?”
She scoffs. “Of course you would say that.”
“I’m just saying. Even if I were looking”—I make a stern face—“which I’m not, so let me make that perfectly clear… you said so yourself he was taken.”
She throws a dismissive hand in my direction. “Blah, blah. So what?”
I shake my head.
“Oh, that’s right. You’ve still got Mr. Guns on your mind.” She chuckles.
I hate myself right now for even mentioning the little encounter we had a few days ago at the supermarket, but I had to tell someone. T
he way he looked at me and the way he was making me feel? I just couldn’t keep it to myself.
Of course, when I told her, Shannon had been there too. Now my sister is at work, while Emy and I are sitting in her apartment, wrapping presents for Christmas in a few weeks. Emy has quite a few nieces and nephews. Her mother had six kids in total: three daughters and three sons. Emy is the youngest, and of all of Mrs. Lexington’s children, Emy is the only one who hasn’t had any kids.
“Think Jayla is going to like this one?” Emy holds up a doll dressed in a pink-and-white ensemble. Jayla is one of her younger nieces and is probably the most spoiled of them all by Emy, since she lives close by. A lot of her family lives across the country.
I’m so thankful for the change in topic. I really don’t want to talk about me and my supermarket adventure with Guns.
I nod. “She’s princess pink. She’s going to love that.”
Emy smiles. “I can’t wait to see the huge smile spread across her face when she opens it Christmas morning.”
“Are you all going to be at your parents’ house this year, or at one of your siblings’?”
Emy places a piece of tape on one of the sides of wrapping paper. “My folks’. They’re so excited; they can’t wait to have the whole family together. We only get to see everyone all together during the holidays, so they really look forward to it. I’m just excited to see Skye and Lily. It’s been so long since I got to spoil those two babies of mine.”
Skye and Lily are her oldest brother’s twins. They live out in California.
“Anyway, don’t think I forgot. I still think we need to analyze your feelings for Guns right now.”
Fuck, I thought I was safe. “Oh, no, we don’t.”
She smirks at me. “Oh, yes, we do. Don’t make me call Shannon to stop by after work so we can torture you.”
I frown. “Please don’t.”
She laughs. “Okay, fine. But we’re going to be talking about this soon. If not now, tomorrow. You hear me?”
I nod.
“No. Do you hear me?” She places a hand behind her ear, acting like it will help her hear me.
I want to roll my eyes, but instead of prolonging the inevitable, I look up at the ceiling and say, “Yes, I hear you, Ms. Emerson.”
A smile spreads on her face. “That’s better. Now help me finish wrapping these last couple of gifts.”
After leaving Emy’s, I pull up to the convenience store a few blocks from my house to pick up some bacon, eggs, and pancake mix for tomorrow morning. Every Tuesday morning, Shannon stops by and we usually have breakfast together. We both have the day off.
Yeah, we see each other all the time, including the time we spend with Emy together. But breakfast on Tuesdays at my place has been an ongoing tradition for as long as I can remember. It’s a sister-sister type thing. It’s one thing I’m never going to give up.
I reach the front entrance of the store, and thankfully, they’re still open. I’ve made it just in time with twenty minutes to spare. I need to be in and out. It shouldn’t be a problem. It’s a small store with only the bare necessities.
Making my way through the empty store, save for the manager behind the register, I pick up the items I need for tomorrow morning. I place the eggs, pancake mix, and bacon onto the counter and wait for the man to ring me up.
“Good evening, miss. Find everything you need all right?”
I smile at him, recognizing him from the other times I’ve been here. He’s probably in his mid-sixties with salt-and-pepper hair. He’s always very nice and well-mannered. Even though I come here quite often because it’s close to my house, we never converse much besides small talk. “Yes, thank you.”
“Twenty-three fifty-six,” he responds.
I hand over two Jacksons and wait for my change. Once he gives it to me, I grab my groceries from the counter. “Thanks so much. Have a good night.”
“You too, miss.”
I walk out of the store and toward my car. It’s a pretty quiet evening. A star-filled sky illuminates the area, and a shimmering crescent moon hangs overhead. A chilly breeze whooshes through the trees. It feels as though we’re going to be hit with our first snowstorm of the year. I wouldn’t mind it on Christmas Day, but any other time, it’s a no from me. I’m not fond of the fluffy white stuff.
I finally reach my car and unlock it, and as I pull open the door, I almost drop the bag to the ground.
“It’s so nice to see you again, Carissa babe.”
A gasp escapes my throat as I spin around and am greeted by the last person on Earth I want to see right now.
“Steve… You scared me.”
He smirks and walks closer to me. He looks trashed. Shit.
“My apologies, babe. I’ve been waiting almost ten minutes for you to come out of the store… I guess I’m just excited to see you again.”
I furrow my brows, cocking my head to the side. “You’ve been watching me?”
He shakes his head and makes a tsking sound. “Waiting. I was waiting.” He takes more steps forward, surprising me with his speedy movements, and pins me against the car. The groceries now fall to the ground. There go the eggs.
“Steve… the groceries. What are you doing?”
He brushes a finger underneath my chin and breathes heavily. His breath is warm and smells of booze. I knew it. He is trashed. He’s definitely been drinking again.
“Oh, Carissa babe. I’ve been thinking about you and our little… drama act, shall we call it, the other night.” His hands reach out to grab mine and places them on either side of my head.
He pushes up against me, and I feel his hard-on through his pants. Ugh. I don’t want to be anywhere near him right now. I fight to lift my arms and push him away, but I can’t. Even wasted, he’s still stronger than me.
“Let me go, Steve. Please,” I beg.
His grin turns upside down. His eyebrows narrow.
My heart races. I’m in trouble. “Please don’t do this… Let me go,” I beg again.
“No!” He quickly bangs my hands against the car.
“You’re hurting me, Steve! Stop!” I scream, hoping the owner of the convenience store might hear me. Maybe he’ll run out and see me and then call the cops. Fuck… I need to find a way to alert him or free myself.
“Shut up, bitch! You’re gonna attract company!”
“That’s the point!” I drive my knee into his groin, which finally makes him loosen his hold on me.
“Ow, you slut!” He bends in half, holding on to his sacred area.
I rush to get away, but before I know it, he grabs me again.
“Oh, no you don’t. You’re coming with me. Let’s go,” he commands.
“No!” I roar, fighting with all my might to get free from his hold once more.
A stern, masculine voice sounds from behind me. “Let her go.”
I snap my head around and see Lorenzo’s terrifying glare fixated on my ex.
Steve doesn’t let go of me, but his hold has definitely loosened a bit. “Who the fuck are—wait, you look a lot like… No, you can’t be… You’re not—”
“Lorenzo Trevano, UFC Heavyweight Champion.” Lorenzo steps closer and into the glow from the streetlight, and now I get a better glimpse of his face. Even as the rage pours out in his tone, he’s still gorgeous.
Steve finally lets go of me, and I take a few steps to get farther away from him.
Lorenzo’s hard gaze stares directly into Steve’s eyes. “Now, I believe the lady wants to be left alone. I advise you to take a hike, or you can deal with me. The choice is yours.”
Steve looks back at me, probably not believing the champion is standing right before us, defending me. I know from back when we were dating, he used to watch MMA all the time. I know he’s got to be familiar with Lorenzo. He quickly averts his eyes back to Guns.. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
Lorenzo’s gaze doesn’t soften. “I assure you this isn’t a joke. You either take your ass out of h
ere willingly, or I’ll take it out for you. It’s totally up to you.”
Steve grimaces. “Fuck this. You’re not worth it, bitch,” he spits at me.
Lorenzo chuckles. “Oh, hell no.” It’s crystal clear by his tone that he’s not amused. Not one bit. He calmly walks up to Steve and grabs him by the collar of his shirt. “Apologize to Carissa, or you’re going to be one very sorry piece of shit.”
My eyes take in Steve’s horrified expression as he visibly swallows hard. “O-okay, okay. I’m sorry!” he trembles.
Lorenzo chuckles again. “Not to me… to her.”
Steve sticks his head out to the side to be sure I can see him. “Carissa, I’m sorry… I’m sorry.”
Lorenzo pulls Steve back and glares him down. Steve is a good four inches shorter and is definitely not as muscular. Lorenzo is towering over him, and the look on Steve’s face is enough to make this evening worth my while. I would have paid a million bucks to see him look the way he does right now.
“Good, now get lost and don’t let me catch you bothering Miss Carissa again. Scram!” Lorenzo shoves him away, and Steve runs off.
“Thank you so much,” I say after Steve’s out of sight as I bend down to pick up my groceries. The eggs are all cracked, but the bacon and pancake mix are fine. I’ll just tell Shannon to pick up a carton on her way over tomorrow morning. No big deal.
He smiles at me, bending down as well, and hands me the box of pancake mix.
“No cream cheese this time?” He smiles.
I want to melt.
My breath catches in my throat. He’s so fine… so gorgeous… so off limits. Like I said before, I know he’s got to be a playboy. There’s no way a man this fine—and a gentleman at that—doesn’t have women lined up waiting to have an evening with him. I know I would be.
“Thanks,” I say, taking the box of pancake mix from him.
“It’s nothing, really. And that little episode? I’m glad I found you when I did. That could have gone a lot worse.” He takes a deep breath and then speaks again. “What are you doing out here all by yourself? It’s getting late.”