Let Me Love You (9)

“Oh?” I looked around but didn’t see anything.

Enzo finally faced me, and his eyes combed over my pink-and-white sundress. He took me in inch by inch, and goose bumps scattered over my bare arms. “I’ll get it.” He headed for one of the industrial refrigerators on the other side of the kitchen, and I couldn’t take my eyes off his tall, muscular body as he sauntered away.

A tall, dark-haired “heartbreaker” inked in tattoos.

“You look pale. You okay?” Natalia stepped forward and set the back of her hand to my cheek as if checking for a fever.

“Mom was just being Mom, and you know how that goes.” I sighed, and Natalia pulled her hand back and exchanged a quick look with Ryan. He shrugged, as if not too optimistic Mom would ever truly change, either.

But people do change, right? Maybe not Mom, though.

My gaze switched to Enzo as he pushed a rolling cart in our direction with the sheet cake on top of it.

“What do you think?” Natalia beamed and stepped away from her husband to hook her arm through mine.

I forced my attention up to the other side of the cart where Enzo stood, hands in his pockets, eyes focused on me. “It was your sister’s idea. I can’t take credit.”

“He’s being humble.” Natalia elbowed me. “What do you think? You’re not talking.”

I studied the large sheet cake, which had a bookshelf painted on it in frosting. There were books on each shelf with printed titles on the spines.

“Twenty-nine books for your birthday,” Natalia continued, since I was still searching for words. “I went through your bookshelf at home. I figured whichever were the most worn were your favorites, so those are the titles I chose. Plus a few throwbacks I remembered you reading as a kid.”

“It’s incredible,” I whispered. “Thank you.” The Hunger Games was on the top shelf. And I was back in Hudson’s office again, remembering when I’d channeled my inner Katniss to face off with the man before me now. “I’m . . .” Going to cry. On the middle shelf there was a Baby-sitters Club book, a reminder of Bianca. She’d introduced me to that series one weekend in the Hamptons when I was ten.

“Could we have a minute?” Enzo’s rumbly voice had me looking up at him, tears brimming in my eyes; had he read my mind? Did he know I was thinking about his twin?

“Yeah. Just roll the cart out when you’re ready so we can sing. I’m sure everyone is excitedly waiting.” Natalia smiled, and Ryan took her hand as they left.

My gaze moved to Enzo’s fingers as he deftly worked to undo each button of his chef’s coat. He tossed the coat onto the counter, and his plain black tee showcased his strong arms and the ink my mom equated with being dangerous to my heart. It was like a clash of good and evil wrapped around his forearms in ink. From rosary beads on the inside of his one arm to skulls, a sword, and other themes of death being swallowed by flames on the other.

I followed his one arm up as his hand dove into his dark hair. It must’ve had gel in it, because the imperfectly messy look he always had going for him returned to its original place after his hand left his thick locks.

I tipped my head, anxious for him to share his thoughts. “You okay?” But the touch of chaos in his eyes staring back at me had me nervously blurting, “Are you considering offering me another birthday kiss?”

His smooth jaw clenched at my words. I was used to seeing him with facial hair, but he’d shaved the other day, and he was one of the few men who looked hot with or without facial hair.

I held a palm up between us. “Relax, Enzo, I was kidding.”

His hand fell somehow gracefully to his side as he asked, “You never told Natalia about that kiss, did you?”

Wait, what? “No, I didn’t.” I shook my head in surprise. “You remember the kiss?”

His disarming smile caught me off guard as he studied me. “You think there’s a chance on God’s green earth, in the oceans, or the heavens above that I’d ever forget that night?”

I blinked in surprise at not only his revelation but the way he’d so eloquently delivered the unexpected words. Bianca had been the writer, but maybe he’d always had a way with words, too, even if he’d never admit it. “So,” I said around a swallow, “you remember.”

He tapped his temple. “It lives rent-fucking-free in my head, Maria. Probably burned into the forefront of my mind for all of eternity. So yeah, I guess you can say I remember.”

Taking a step back, I bumped into the rolling cart, stunned into silence.

“But I wanted to talk to you about something, and I’m not sure if you’ll want to slap me or, well, kiss me for it.” He held his palms between us as if to say, Up to you.

“Slap or kiss?” My heartbeat ramped up at the options. “What is it?”

With a contemplative look, he stroked his jawline as if forgetting it was smooth. “The reason why Thomas finally admitted he cheated was because of me.”

Ah, shit. My shoulders fell at the news, and I spun away while I grappled with the information.

I flinched as his strong hands came down over my shoulders and lightly gripped them. Okay, maybe there were a few goose bumps on my skin at his touch, too. Especially because his mouth was at my ear when he said, “I’ve seen your pain. Your frustration. I’ve heard you telling Natalia how much you want to be free of him for good, and I waited too long to make it happen. I should’ve forced him to confess sooner.”