Page 40 of Forgotten Comeback (Parisi Family #5)

Chapter

Thirty-Nine

Gavin

The soft sound of bare feet pricks my ears, and I can feel without turning around that it’s Taylor.

“Smells good. Whatcha making?” She crosses the room and hops up on the counter, wearing my T-shirt, and that does even more dumb shit to my head.

“Egg protein bowls.”

Taylor narrows her eyes. “Alright now, I can’t eat healthy 24/7.”

Her breasts are molded to my shirt, which is now spattered with crimson. My eyes stroll back up to hers, and she clears her throat.

“You got paint on my shirt,” I tell her.

“I’m sorry,” she says apologetically. “I didn’t want to wake you, and this was the first thing I grabbed.”

“Don’t apologize. It looks good on you. Would look even better off you,” I say suggestively.

“And there he is,” Taylor says with an eye roll.

But she’s smiling, and I smile too. “Your tea should be ready.”

She hops down and grabs the mug, squeezing out the tea bag before tossing it. My dick’s keenly aware she’s wearing only my shirt, and I force my attention to the stove.

Blowing on her mug, she takes a sip. “Who taught you to cook?”

“No one. Back when I was starting in the boxing world, my coach’s wife kept me fed.”

“The man who spoke Portuguese?” Taylor wonders.

“Yeah,” I say, really wishing I hadn’t brought up the subject. “Anyway, I learned early on how to fend for myself.”

“What about your family?” she wonders.

My spine straightens, and I focus all my attention on the pan.

“See, Gavin, this is why we’d never work,” she announces. “Part of being in a relationship is getting to know each other.”

“Actions, not words, right? I’ve gotta know I can trust you,” I tell her honestly.

Taylor cocks her head. “That’s fair. But can’t you tell me something? Like how you got into boxing?”

“That one’s easy. Got into a fight, broke a boy’s jaw, and was expelled from school at age twelve.”

Taylor snorts a laugh. “That’s one way to do it.”

I shake my head with a little smile. “Yeah, I guess so. What about you? How did you get into painting?”

“My grandma encouraged it.” She takes another sip of her tea. “When I moved to AC, I was an angry tween, and I needed something to help me get out of my own way.”

“Why did you move here?” I ask, already having researched the answer.

“My mom died, and I came to live with my grandma. I went from no rules to a caretaker who set boundaries. Of course, I tested them.”

“I bet you were hell on wheels,” I comment.

“Much to my grandma’s chagrin.” She smiles ruefully. “My mom was really young and not ready to be a parent; that’s not an excuse, but in hindsight, I have more empathy for her,” she says more somberly. “What about your mom?”

Turning off the stove, I divvy up the eggs between the bowls and hand her one. “She was a piece of work, and I’m being generous. If a shrink had gotten hold of her, they’d have a great case study for borderline personality disorder.”

Taylor eyes me inquisitively. “How do you know that term?”

Not ready to tell her the real reason, I shrug, grabbing my fork and digging in, even though I’m not hungry anymore. “You can find anything online.”

She grabs her fork and takes a bite. “This is good. But next time, I’m making French toast. Your washboard abs will just have to deal with it.”

So there will be a next time. Good to know.

“You been checking out my washboard abs?” I taunt her.

“How could I not? I’ve only seen you in a shirt a handful of times,” she retorts.

“Uh-huh,” I drawl, loving the way her eyes spark with excitement when we go toe to toe. “But then how could I show off my love bite?” I tap my shoulder.

“Oh my God.” She examines her teeth imprint with her fingertips. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” I’ll wear this like a damn badge of honor.

We finish breakfast, and I help her put the dishes away. My phone buzzes on the table, and I grab it.

Mandatory family meeting.

“Oh, shit.” I run my hand through my hair. “I’ve gotta go. Training this morning.” Halfway true, as I have a training session later today.

“Where are you training, now that Ace’s…” Taylor trails off.

Burnt to the ground?

“At the arena.”

“Maybe you can ask someone if they found the Round 1 sign,” she tells me.

“I’ll lift the damn ring and get it myself, if that’s what it takes,” I promise.

“Alright, tough guy.” She wraps her arms around my neck, and I squeeze her bare ass, stealing a quick kiss.

“You need a shirt,” she says against my lips.

“Still looks better on you. Still would look better off you,” I tell her smoothly.

“Get out of here,” Taylor says, dropping her arms and giving me a playful shove.

That gets her ass more than a playful smack in return before I head to the door. Something hits my back, and I turn around. My shirt’s crumbled into a ball at my feet.

“We’ve been here before,” I muse, my eyes taking a stroll up and down her naked body.

“And while I’d love to masturbate with you, I’ll have to take a rain check.

” My dick’s screaming at me, but I ignore it as I grab the wadded-up shirt, giving Taylor a kissy-kissy face just to rile her up before I walk out the door.

My first stop is to get my badge of honor inked, and then I roll into Inferno’s office.

“What are these Phoenix invoices for a renovation project in the Arts District?” John demands by way of greeting, slamming down a stack of papers. “You know my company’s hemorrhaging cash with the Diamond project delays.”

“Glad to see you too, brother.” I take a seat, sipping on my protein shake.

“Is that blood on your shirt?” John narrows his eyes.

“Paint,” I correct him.

“Gavin has a ring girl ‘friend,’” Inferno tells John.

“Since when do you have girl ‘friends?’” John looks at me like I’ve sprouted three heads.

I shrug. “Since I got a girlfriend.” Taylor’s stubborn as hell, but I’ll get my girl locked in.

John looks to Inferno. “He’s serious.”

“Forget about me. What the hell happened to you?” I press. “You’re kidnapped, and then you’re released with the soldier you claimed was a dead end.”

“Yes, John, do tell,” Inferno drawls.

“I’ve worked out a deal with Romeo,” John tells me. “We operate in AC unbothered by the family.”

“But wait, there’s more,” Inferno says in his best infomercial voice.

John rubs the back of his head. “They get a twenty percent cut.”

My eyes bug out of my head. “What happened to our big revenge plan?”

“Our brother sold us out, all for his little Parisi lover boy.” Inferno launches himself over the desk, tackling John to the ground, and the two of them lay into each other.

Not catching a stray this time, I walk to the door. “Someone fill me in later; I’m out.”