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I had to remember this, because even though he was sweet, he didn’t mean anything by it. And I obviously felt the same. Which was cool. Everyone was on the same page. I rubbed my chest and shoved away all those hormones and endorphins and attachment vibes. They had no business here.
I climbed the steps to my porch, then threw open the front door. As soon as I walked into my house, a distinct smell reached my nose. I looked around, disoriented. What in the hell . . . ?
Massimo. I’d forgotten for half a beat that I now had a guest. A noise from the kitchen drew me back there—and I spotted a male torso bent over the kitchen island, his mouth covering the opening of a glass bong.
“Glad to see you’re making yourself at home.” I went to the fridge and got out a bottle of water.
Lifting his head, he blew out a long stream of smoke. His eyes were rimmed red, his smile sheepish. “Perdonami, Maggie. I’m having trouble sleeping without myragazzaand this helps.”
“What is a ragazza?”
“Girlfriend.”
I cracked open my water and took a long swallow. “Oh. I thought it was maybe your security blanket or something.”
He held up his middle finger. “Did you have a nice morning with my brother? You look very—” he gestured to his face “—relaxed.”
“We had a nice time,” I said primly, which caused Maz to chuckle.
“You two are cute.” Bending, he put his mouth to the glass and flicked the lighter to heat the bong water. After he took another long hit, he blew out the smoke slowly. “Fuck, that’s nice. You want some?”
“No, thank you. I have a lot to do today. Can’t let anything slow me down.”
Maz licked his lips and tilted his neck from side-to-side, cracking it. I was about to leave when he said, “He likes you. In case you couldn’t tell.”
My feet grew heavy and I stopped. I both did and didn’t wish to discuss Vito. I tried to sound casual. “That’s nice, consideringwe’ve been at each other’s throats for a few days. And I like him, too. Mostly.”
“You don’t understand. He is . . . ” He started laughing and rubbed his head. “I can’t think of the word in English. What is like love but not quite love?”
“Uhhh.” I changed my mind. Suddenly, I did not want to have this conversation. “Pretty sure that doesn’t apply?—”
“Infatuation!” Maz tried to snap his fingers, but couldn’t manage it. He grinned a stoner grin. “He’s infatuated with you.”
Vito had said obsessed, so I could see where his brother might pick up on this. But no one needed to make more of this than two people blowing off steam together. “Well, I’m sure it’ll pass soon.”
“No, signorina. I know my brother. We’ve been close from the time we were boys and I’ve seen him with many, many women over the years. And he’s never acted like this. He doesn’t even let them spend the night. Vito is too responsible for that. He plans everything out to perfection.”
“Well, that’s nice, but?—”
“Allora, we had lots of parties on the yacht. Each of us with two, three, four gorgeous models at a time. Fuck, those were fun times. We flew these beautiful women in from Paris or Nice—hey, where are you going?”
I was already out of the kitchen. I really didn’t need to hear about all the glamorous and gorgeous women Vito had been with, especially when I was wearing baggy sweatpants, a borrowed shirt and no panties. “Duty calls, Maz. I need to change and get outside. Hope you have a nice sleep.”
I took the stairs two at a time, desperate to put this conversation in my rear-view mirror. Vito could fuck whoever he wanted once he went back to Toronto. I mean, I had a threesome once in high school. It wasn’t a big deal. Turned out it was double the work for me, though, so I didn’t quite see the appeal.
I put on a sports bra, even though I technically didn’t need it, a long-sleeved thermal, then pulled Vito’s shirt back over on top. The t-shirt was comfortable, so I couldn’t see a reason to change. The fact that it was Vito’s didn’t factor into that decision at all. Lastly, I dragged on jeans and socks, then went downstairs. Massimo was sprawled on the living room couch, asleep, so I drew a blanket over him. At the front door I shoved my feet into my work boots and collected my winter gear. Today was colder than yesterday, so I needed to be prepared.
I opened the door and closed it softly. There were fences to repair today. The supplies were in the?—
A large figure materialized and I nearly stumbled, my hand flying to cover my heart. A grumpy-looking olive-skinned man was lurking on my front stoop. He dipped his chin respectfully. “Signorina.”
Edging back toward my house, I asked, “Do we know each other?”
“Don D’Agostino, he sent me to stay with you today.”
Stay with me? “What?”
“I’m your guard, Beppe.” I must’ve still looked confused, because he said, “It’s short for Guiseppe.”