Page 61 of Indulging Temptation (Tempting the Heart #1)

SANTINO

I ’ve grown accustomed to making Lorena scream, squeal, and whimper.

It’s become a goal of mine that if the opportunity strikes to get some quality alone time with her, to get her to make all three of those noises at once.

However, the screech that just flew out of her mouth is something I never want to hear from her again.

Not when it stems from panic and not pleasure.

Lorena flees from me to grab her torn dress from the floor. Fumbling with the fabric, trying to find a piece long enough to cover her naked body from our very unexpected guest.

I follow suit, pulling up my pants as quickly as I can to cover myself, wishing instead I had a button and could transport Lorena and me somewhere else. Anywhere else. That doesn’t include Tomás looking angrier than I’ve ever seen him before, stomping over to us.

It was only a matter of time before we would slip up somehow, and he’d catch on. But like this? In the act? I can’t think of a worse way for him to find out.

Knowing there’s nothing I can possibly do or say to make him any less enraged than he is, I still feel like I need to say something and try to diffuse the situation about to blow up in front of us in real time.

I step in front of Lorena, creating a barrier between her and Tomás. Not that he’d lay a hand on her. He’d never. I know that clenched fist at his side has my name on it.

Tomás stops in front of us, mumbling to himself in Spanish as Lorena is trying to use the shreds of her dress as a shield to semi-conceal her bare body.

“I can explain,” I offer, hoping it will diffuse Tomás’ anger even if I know it likely won’t.

“Please don’t. I don’t want to hear what you were doing to my sister.

I feel sick enough already from what I’ve seen.

” A queasy look wraps around his face and he lifts his fist to his mouth, as if he’s trying to physically hold himself back from puking.

He doesn’t make eye contact with me, he looks off to the side, moving his fist back and forth in the air, practice swinging or internally debating what he should do next.

A decision is made a few seconds later when he finally can look me in the eye, only to make sure he can look at his target, while he punches me square in the jaw, causing me to lose my footing in the process.

I deserved that. But Lorena didn’t. My loss in footing caused her to lose hers by default, and that fact alone drives irrational anger within me. It’s taking everything in my fucking power not to punch him back.

Getting my bearings, I stand upright. Ignoring the throb at my jaw, I lift my hand up between us, as I attempt to explain myself again.

“It’s not what you think. Seriously, I can explain.” I try to defend myself, but all that does is make my best friend — who I betrayed by doing what he just caught me doing to his sister— angrier.

“Not what I think? Tino. You were fucking my sister. How the fuck is it not what I think?”

Knocking my hand down, he grabs my shoulders, digging his fingers into them, using the fact that Lorena is off to the side and not near me to his advantage, as he pushes me against the door to the walk-in cooler.

I look over to Lorena. Tears line her eyes. And even in this horrible moment, I can’t help but take notice of how beautiful she looks in my chef’s jacket that she must’ve grabbed from the hook it was resting on to cover herself.

I know Tomás is mad. If I had a sister, and I caught my best friend naked with her, I’d be the same way, probably worse. But I can explain. It isn’t what he thinks.

I love her.

We love each other.

Awkward as this situation is in the present, this isn’t some fling. She’s finally given me her heart, and I need him to know that I’ll cherish that as the privilege it is until my dying breath.

Lorena’s tears echo throughout the kitchen, and it’s tearing me apart. I want to break free from Tomás’ chokehold to comfort her, but I need to handle this first, like I should have a long time ago.

“Get the fuck off me so we can handle this like adults.” I choke out through the grip he has on my throat.

Lorena chimes in. “Get off him, Tomás!”

But Tomás only tightens his grip, growing more flustered by the second as his gaze burns through me.

Constricted airways and all, I persevere, sucking in shallow breaths and through a gritted jaw I try to speak. “I’m sorry you had to see this but…”

I’m interrupted by Lorena shouting as she wedges herself between us when she sees Tomás is now squeezing harder. “Stop it right fucking now. Get off him!”

“Fine.” He appeases her request and lets go. Chest heaving in anger, he points a finger at me. “You are fucking dead to me, Amato. You hear me? Dead.”

Lorena cuts in, sounding more furious with her brother than she looks, given that her hands are visibly trembling. “Don’t you fucking dare pin this all on him. He didn’t force me to do anything I didn’t want to do.”

I know she’s trying to diffuse his anger, but that didn’t seem to do the trick. Tomás pinches his brow, looking understandably disgusted. “Please. Spare me. I don’t need to hear any of this. What I saw is enough to disgust me for a lifetime.”

Realizing there’s nothing I can say that will lessen his anger, I do the only other thing I can think of, hoping it’ll prove to him that I’m not using his sister. Never.

Risky a move as it is, I walk over to Lorena, interlacing our fingers together. A simple gesture. One that can go either way. And from the looks of it, as I could’ve predicted, he seems repulsed. But I use the silence to my advantage.

“Tomás, I’m sorry. I really am. This isn’t how we wanted you to find out.”

“Oh, please. If you didn’t want to get caught again, you two would at minimum find a place to do whatever this is, that isn’t in public.”

“Again?” Lorena asks. “What are you talking about?”

“Yes. Again,” Tomás spits out, navigating through his phone and into his emails. “I got this while we were at Hummingbirds. I would’ve been able to discuss this with you both there, had you not run off here to do whatever the fuck this is.” An exaggerated shiver runs its course through his body.

Lorena rolls her eyes. “Remind me to stop sharing my location with you.”

“Not so fast.” Tomás clicks his tongue at her, before looking at me, and then glancing down to my hand secured in Lorena’s. “First of all, that’s a safety thing. And as much as I don’t like this whatsoever, we need to discuss it.”

“Jesus Christ!” Lorena exclaims. “Just give me the phone and let me see.” Tomás hands her the phone, and a familiar logo burns in my periphery.

“Wait. Is that…”

Lorena scans the email. “An email from the owner of Gemini’s?”

Oh god.

“Fuck,” she murmurs.

“Fuck is right. A fucking mess. That’s what this is.

One that you’re going to have a hell of a time getting out of.

” Tomás looks right at me with nothing but venom in his eyes.

“I mean it. You’re fucking dead to me.” Tomás takes off his sports coat and hands it to Lorena.

“Take that chef jacket off, we’re going. ”

Stunned, Lorena looks at me, then Tomás. “You’re joking, right?” questioning Tomás.

“Do I look like I’m joking?

“I’m not going,” Lorena insists.

“Well, you’re sure as not going to stay here with him. Who the fuck knows what other messes he’ll get you in. He’s a sinking ship. Who's going to ruin you, like he just did our friendship.” Tomás goes on, but my hearing becomes dull. Lost in a pool of regret and overwhelm.

“What does the email say?” I manage in a steady voice, despite feeling like I’m shaking.

Tomás doesn’t want to answer, but the only reason he does is because it involves Lorena as well.

“Apparently, there’s footage of you two together in the upstairs catering section of the restaurant.”

Fuck.

“And the owners are threatening to press charges.”

“They can’t do that, right?” I ask, genuinely not sure how that works according to the law.

“Wrong. They are fully within their rights. And seeing how you decided to fuck my sister, at a restaurant owned by not one motherfucker that hates you, but two, they will press charges if you don’t submit to their request.”

“Charges?” Lorena asks, gasping with disgust. “That feels extreme.”

“Wait. Who owns the restaurant?” I ask, racking my brain.

Lorena scrolls down to the end of the email. “Owen Conti and Luca DeStefano,” she says, sounding as shocked as I feel hearing those two names.

Holy shit. I had no fucking idea. I knew DeStefano was expanding out of the city but to co-own a restaurant with Owen of all people? That was a plot twist I wasn’t expecting. I fucking walked right into that trap. Fuck my life.

Tomás grabs his phone back from Lorena.

“Anyway, as you read, Lorena, they have footage of you two that they are threatening to show the police, and if they do, they’ll be able to file charges. Against both of you.”

“Oh please, give me a break. It’s not like he fucked me on a table for everyone to see.”

My stomach twists at her bluntness, even if it would be hot to hear her talk like that if Tomás wasn’t here, shooting me a continual death stare.

“Lorena, por favor, can you not?” Tomás looks noticeably uncomfortable. Not that I can blame him. “And even though it’s a privately owned place, it still falls under public lewdness, which is a Class B misdemeanor.”

“Meaning?” I ask.

“Meaning it has the potential to be punishable by up to one year in jail.”

“Jail? Seriously?”

“Yeah, or a fine. Not to mention it’ll be on your record and Lorena’s.”

Over my dead body will I let any of this affect Lorena’s reputation. Trying to problem solve, something that has never come natural to me, I try to think of what to do. “Okay, knowing those two, there is some kind of stipulation or request they are using as a power play. So, what is it?”

Tomás tenses, pursing his lips.

“What is it?” I repeat.

“They want four hundred grand.”