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Bliss hummed beneath my skin as he lay on top of me. He ran a rough palm across my cheek and cupped the nape of my neck. His lips brushed mine. “You’re so fucking beautiful.”
The rasp of his voice wrapped around my heart and squeezed. Seared it with warmth and the acidic bite of guilt. I used to hate that word, beautiful. How dirty it sounded no matter which language it was spoken in. However, the deep, sincere way it rolled off his lips was how my romantic heart had always imagined it to be said.
He kissed me, and I melted beneath him, running my hands over the smooth muscles of his back.
His lips trailed down my neck. “You know what you mean to me, don’t you?”
My heartbeats slowed to nothing, while my conscience spun so fast everything blurred.
Why?
Why was he doing this to me?
So many feelings, from happiness to anger at my situation, roared to the surface and vibrated beneath my skin. Tears burned the backs of my eyes. I was so tense there wasn’t a chance he didn’t notice, but he only kissed my throat as though he’d anticipated this reaction.
An ache cut through my chest.
His forehead rested on mine. Inhaling a breath from between my lips, he kissed me softly. And then he was on his feet, saying he’d be in the garage, before walking out of the room and leaving me cold in his wake.
I’d lain in his bed for two minutes af
ter he left, listening to the tick of a distant clock and letting the cold seep through my skin until a numbness spread.
If I didn’t do it now I never would.
Not if he kept saying things like that to me.
Especially not if he said them as though he’d never been more sure about anything.
With trembling hands, I slipped on a pair of jeans, running shoes, and a jacket while watching through the spare room window. Nico had grease up to his elbows as he walked to his worktable. He hadn’t been in his garage once in the past seven days, but last night he’d said he needed to finish rebuilding the valve train, or something like it. That sounded like a project. Hours, maybe, with Nico busy, without Luca watching me like a hawk. I knew it was the best shot I had.
Digging through my duffel bag, I found the note I’d copied and a letter I wrote months ago and slipped them in my back pocket. My heartbeat matched the patter of my steps as I trod downstairs. I grabbed some cash from the counter and then stopped to eye my cell phone nearby. A strong desire demanded I take it; I told him I would always keep it on me. I also promised not to leave the house without telling him. It felt like I was going to be sick by not listening, but I knew he’d have GPS on my phone.
Leaving out the front, I shut the screen door quietly.
I headed down the steps but froze as my gaze clashed with a man’s, who stood on the porch of the house to the left of us, smoking a cigarette. The neighbor who always had baseball filtering through his open windows. He had the Cosa Nostra in his eyes.
My stomach swam with unease.
He let out a breath of smoke and watched me.
If I didn’t make this look normal I was going to be stopped before I made it to the sidewalk. I gave him the shy Sweet Abelli smile, as though I’d been caught doing the walk of shame. I didn’t think Nico had announced our marriage yet, but it was all over if he had.
After a second, the man gave me a small nod.
The tiniest amount of relief spread through me, but I didn’t trust him yet. He worked for my husband, after all. As I headed down the street in the most normal pace I could muster, his gaze touched my spine with every step. The hair on the back of my neck rose.
Once I was past sight of the house, I speed-walked around the corner to the bus stop. Only two Asian girls and one black man with his headphones in waited. According to my app, the bus was scheduled to be here now, on the dot.
Three minutes passed.
I shifted. Come on.
Two more minutes.
A cold sweat drifted down my spine.
A small part of me believed Nico might have helped me with this if I asked him—but there was also a larger possibility he wouldn’t. And in that case, I would lose the opportunity for good.