Page 25 of The One Night Match (Mafia Matchmaker #1)

TWENTY-FIVE

RILEY

“ W hat the fuck is that?” Cruz asks, his eyes locked on the ball of fluff in my arms.

I bite the inside of my cheek to stop myself from giggling. When Lexi mentioned this being the next phase of Operation Divorce, I knew it could go one of two ways, but I couldn’t help myself.

Unfortunately for me, I don’t get to keep the little guy I’m holding. One, because it’s Lexi’s friend’s dog, and two, because I don’t think Mr. Whiskers would appreciate a friend when he’s still getting used to me. But Cruz doesn’t need to know that.

“This is Kevin,” I beam. “Isn’t he so cute?”

“Cute?” Cruz mutters. “It looks like you put its fur through a shredder.”

I cough to smother the laugh that bursts from my chest, because that’s a pretty accurate description of the Chinese Crested breed as a whole. “That’s part of his charm!” I argue.

Cruz reaches for his tie and loosens it, making my core clench at the sight.

There’s something about a man taking off a tie that gets me, and that’s only more the case with my husband.

It’s the way his tattoos peek out the top of his collar when he unbuttons the top few buttons that makes it hard to think.

“Where did Kevin come from?”

“The pound,” I lie.

“And how long is Kevin staying?”

“Forever.”

“No.” He shakes his head. “Absolutely not.”

I pout. “You want me to take him back to the pound? What if no one adopts him!”

He sighs and brushes his hand down his face. “Asshole will eat that thing alive.”

“Mr. Whiskers…” I correct him with a glare. “Is a sweet boy who would do no such thing.”

“I’ve seen him beat up a Great Dane. I promise Kevin doesn’t stand a chance against that orange ball of evil.”

I huff out a sigh. “They’ll get used to each other! We’ll introduce them slowly.”

“No.”

“Cruz,” I whine.

He shoves the sleeves of his shirt up his tattooed arms, and I start to wonder which of us is closer to losing this argument, because the more he undresses without actually removing any clothing, the more I need a cold shower.

“Riley, we’re not keeping that dog.”

One of the few useful things I learned as a child growing up in the Mafia is how to cry on demand.

Technically, it’s meant to be used if I’m ever kidnapped, a way to make my captor feel sorry for me and see me as a weak little girl until I can execute one of the many escape plans that have been drilled into me my whole life, but it’ll come in handy now.

My bottom lip wobbles as tears well in my eyes, and I watch as panic shoots across Cruz’s face. If there’s one thing men universally don’t know how to deal with, it’s a crying woman.

I bury my face in Kevin’s rough skin, allowing tears to fall into his fur. He nuzzles into my throat at the same time a rough sob tears from my chest.

“Fuck.” Cruz rushes toward me. “I’m sorry. Please don’t cry. You can keep the dog.”

“I…can?” I sniffle.

He nods, wrapping his arms around me and the dog. “You can have anything you want as long as you stop crying.”

“Anything?” I murmur.

“Anything but the end of our marriage.”

I sigh but allow myself to sink into his warmth. This man has no goddamn right smelling so good and looking like a tattooed god. I’d be stupid to pass up the opportunity.

Cruz looks down at Kevin, his face showing all the distaste for the animal, but the fact that he’s willing to let him stay because that’s what I want is backfiring a little.

The way my chest clenches with emotions I have no right to feel.

The way my body leans into his of its own accord.

And the way my core aches to be pinned to the bed like I was this morning.

When I told Lexi what happened this morning, she came up with the idea of Kevin. His owner is going away for a few weeks and needed someone to take care of him. Which then changed to him staying with us.

I am a little concerned about Mr. Whiskers, which is why the cat is currently locked up in my bedroom, fast asleep on a cat bed I took up there, seeing as my bed no longer resides in its place.

I’ve yet to figure out how to navigate that particular issue, but that’s a bridge I’ll cross tonight. If I’m honest, part of me hoped we’d have a big fight about Kevin, and that would give me an excuse to sleep on the couch, but clearly that’s backfired in my face.

“How about you go get Kevin settled, and I’ll order us some dinner?” he murmurs against the top of my head.

I nod and pull away, forcing myself to leave his warmth. I’m already too addicted to being in his arms, and that’s a problem.

There are a million reasons I refuse to stay in this marriage, but the very real feelings that are growing for Cruz are pushing to the top.

Because life as a Mafia boss is uncertain and dangerous, and if I let myself fall for him, let myself care, losing him would probably be the end of me.

K evin sleeps soundly in his playpen in the dining room with more toys than any dog could possibly need, while Mr. Whiskers walks around the house acting like we’re ruining his life.

Well, more accurately, he’s acting like Cruz ruined his life, which is funny because if he had his way, Kevin wouldn’t be here at all.

I’m exhausted, but I refuse to get up to get ready for bed, knowing I have no other choice than to sleep with Cruz.

Maybe if my body weren’t already betraying me at every opportunity, it wouldn’t be so bad.

But the longer I spend in his company, the closer I come to throwing caution to the wind and allowing him to fuck me the way he did that night in the club.

Except this time, it wouldn’t be a one-night stand I’d never see again. It would be my husband that I’m trying not to fall for while also trying to stop him from having any feelings for me.

It’s a complicated situation that I don’t need to be any more complicated.

“Do you think that if you fall asleep on the couch, I’m not going to move you to the bed?” he asks, his voice amused as he brushes his fingers up my bare thigh.

I’m still in my workout shorts and oversized shirt I wore to do yoga earlier, and I’m suddenly regretting not changing into longer pants.

“I’m not tired,” I lie.

“You’re basically falling asleep where you’re sitting.”

“I am not.”

He sighs. “Riley, let’s go to bed.”

“I don’t have a bed. Remember? You had it removed this morning.”

“Oh, I remember. And if you recall, you’ll be sleeping with me from here on out. In our bed.”

I roll my eyes and hug one of the cushions to my chest to hide the way my nipples harden at those words on his lips. My mind may be ready to get the fuck out of this marriage, but my body is very much down for everything being married to Cruz brings.

We sit for a few more minutes, my eyes drooping closed as I stifle another yawn.

“That’s it,” he murmurs, his arms sliding behind my back and beneath my knees before he lifts me from the couch, cushion and all.

“What are you doing?” I snap.

“Taking you to bed.”

“I don’t want to go to your bed.”

“Our bed.”

I glare up at him, but he’s too focused on climbing the stairs, holding me against him with more care than you’d expect from a man with his reputation.

“You can glare at me all you like, Kitten. You’re still sleeping in our bed.”

He steps into the bedroom, finding Mr. Whiskers standing at the end of the bed, glaring at us, obviously annoyed by how late we’re coming to bed.

Cruz carefully lowers me to my feet by the end of the bed, and without hesitation, he reaches for the hem of my T-shirt and pulls it over my head, leaving me standing before him in my matching bright pink sports bra and shorts.

His eyes move over me with hunger a moment before he slips his fingers into the waistband of my shorts, shoving them down my thighs before I can come to my senses.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” I slap at his hand when he reaches for my sports bra.

“Changing my wife for bed.”

I’m about to argue when he dips his head and crashes his lips to mine, stealing any argument I may have had straight from my mouth.