Page 89 of Vows of a Mobster

“Okay, I hear the girls in the hallway.”

“Bring Brianna to the restaurant.” I couldn’t wait to see her and feel her soft skin under my hands.

I waited for her at the restaurant that was my favorite in Boston, Mezzanotte. I wanted to take her with me to Europe and show her all my favorite spots… take a gondola with her in Venice, swim under the stars in Dubrovnik, sail the Mediterranean, even take her dancing in Nice. She was young and deserved to experience it all. I wanted to be the one to give it all to her. It was a novelty since it wasn’t something I strived for before.

I stood in the private room on the second floor of the restaurant waiting for her. Nobody would bother us up here, we’d have all our privacy. It was our night to enjoy ourselves, to talk. I wanted to bring her walls down and make her mine.

I heard her light footsteps up the stairs, her heels clicking, and my lips twitched into a half smile. She wore heels for our date. I watched the door eager, like a little boy waiting on his first bike that he had been dreaming about for years. I had been waiting for her all my life, and I didn’t even know it.

The moment she stepped through the door, she took my breath away. She looked stunning. She wore a white dress, looking like a Greek goddess. The dress ended between her thigh and knee, with a good amount of thigh showing. The dress shimmered under the dim lights as she moved with each step. Her dark hair was up in a loose bun, with a few loose strands down framing her heart shaped face. She wore barely any make-up but she was breathtakingly beautiful.

I strode towards her, and the scent uniquely her, a mixture of lemon and lime, enveloped me. I placed my hands on her sides and instantly the restlessness within me calmed, replaced by the need for her. Every part of this woman standing in front of me was made for me.

Her eyes shone, as her gaze traveled over me and I wondered if she felt a fraction of what I felt.

“You look beautiful,” I murmured, pressing my lips against her cheek. “Stunning.”

“Thank you,” she murmured, her voice barely above the whisper. She wrapped her arms around my waist, her hand accidentally brushing against my gun holster. She stiffened for a fraction of a second but didn’t pull away.

It was who I was; it was my life although at that very moment, I wished I was a better man, that I could offer her a better life. The kind she was accustomed to growing up. She leaned her head against my chest, and I wondered again what was going through her head. Women were usually easy to read, but Brianna was a closed book. At least to me she was, and I wanted to read every single letter written in that book.

“How was your day?” I asked her, barely resisting the urge to demand she straddle me so I could ram home into her. This need for her was scary; it hit me like a hurricane.

“It was good,” she spoke softly, against my chest. “Yours?”

“All better now that you are here.” There was no sense pretending I didn’t think about her all day, daydreaming about her. “I missed you today.”

Her hands squeezed tighter around me but she said nothing. I had never yearned to hear a woman tell me she missed me, that she thought about me all day. Now wasn’t this ironic? The roles have certainly reversed.

“Are you ready for an Italian dinner?” I asked her.

She took a small step backwards, chuckling, and I already mourned the loss of her in my arms. “I’m starving,” she admitted.

“We’ll remedy that immediately.”

I pulled the chair for her and she sat down on her left; then instead of sitting opposite of her, I sat next to her. Her hand laid palm down on the table and I put my hand over hers. Her small hand appeared even smaller, my skin tone darker over her light one.

Such a contrast,I thought to myself.Lightness and darkness.

It had been two days and I had held a woman’s hand more than I have in the past forty years. She wore a beautiful pearl bracelet, her only jewelry. She carried herself with such a simple grace. I traced my fingers over it, wondering if it was something that came with the gown.

“Whoever did your shopping,” she murmured softly, “thought of everything. From jewelry to dresses to matching undergarments.”

I grinned. “I asked Marissa to help.”

Her eyes flashed in surprise. “Hmm, she kept that a secret then.”

“Only because I told her to.”

I heard the waiter’s steps, but Brianna didn’t because she jumped when he cleared his throat. She quickly pulled her hand out and placed it in her lap, as if she was caught stealing a piece of candy. And fuck, it felt like such a loss that it shook me to the core. What was it about this woman that did this to me? She seemed unaffected by it all.

“Good evening,” he greeted us. “Can I start you with some wine?”

Brianna just shrugged lightly. “Sure. But just half a glass for me please.”

“What kind would you like, Ma’am?”

Her eyes darted to me in question. “Whichever you like,” I told her. This night was for her.