Let Me Love You (98)

I was on the same page. Like always. “I’ll try,” I said, nervous now, slipping on a pair of black slingback heels. “He should be here soon.”

We went downstairs, where Ryan was on the floor in the living room, and he had Chiara over his head while she pretended to fly.

“Le sigh,” my sister said at the sight. “He’s going to be such a great father.” She faced me, then tipped her head to the side, and I followed her gaze to see Enzo there.

The breath whooshed free from my lungs at the sight of him in the doorway watching us. Black dress pants and a black button-down shirt. Sleeves cuffed to the elbows showing his ink. A glimpse of the guardian-angel tattoo on his chest from the top two buttons undone. And his hair was styled off to the side in that sexy-messy way I loved.

“Hi.” Was that a pageant wave I just did?

“Hi.” Enzo removed his hands from his pockets and wet his lips, his eyes climbing from my heels up my legs. He spent a little extra time on my breasts as he started our way. “Bellissima.”

God, I loved when the man spoke Italian to me. And his nickname for me, Tesoro, always had me melting.

“Don’t stay out too late,” Ryan called out, sitting up and placing Chiara on his shoulders. She clapped his cheeks and laughed.

“Dah-dah,” Chiara called out, her eyes on Enzo, and that would never get old, especially the smile it produced from Enzo.

He went over and took her from Ryan, then lifted her up over his head, making that her second plane ride for the evening. “You going to be a good girl for your aunt and uncle, hmm?” Enzo asked her, and Chiara giggled before I hugged and kissed her goodbye.

Once we were outside, I leaned into Enzo and murmured, “But I might not be a good girl.”

He snatched my wrist and spun me to face him. Arching into him as his hand traced along my silhouette, I heard him whisper, “Fire.”

At the feel of his hard cock pressing against me, I had a feeling the chef was finally about to turn up the heat.

About.

Damn.

Time.



Sitting back on my heels on top of his hotel bed, I licked my lips and moaned as I finished my last bite of pizza.

Enzo stood in front of the bed, his eyes steady on me as I closed the pizza box and brushed a thumb across my lip, checking for crumbs. The steely, hard look in his eyes had me pinning my knees together.

Instead of dinner at a fancy restaurant, he’d surprised me with pizza delivery to his hotel room and a bottle of wine. I nearly blurted, I love you, at that fact, but I was trying to behave and take things slow. Pretend we were still in the early stages of our relationship and not say the words burning on my tongue that I’d last shared the day Thomas had been arrested four weeks ago.

“You barely ate.” I frowned as he cupped his mouth, his gaze lifting to the ceiling, and that was never a good sign. “What happened in New York?”

I stood and set the pizza box on his dresser before returning to face him, hoping he’d talk to me. The therapist was supposed to be helping him on that front—not keeping secrets from a place of fear I wouldn’t accept him.

“A lot happened back home.” He gripped the nape of his neck and squeezed, his gaze returning to mine again, and I reached for his free hand and laced our fingers together. “With the Brambilla case pretty much over, my brothers and Hudson have decided to work together again. But in a different way.”

“What do you mean?”

“Start a security company to help those in need.” He paused. “Less vigilantism and more by-the-book-type stuff. Well, for the most part. They’ll continue to work at the family business, too. Because their security work will be without pay.”

“Oh, wow.”

“I also saw Jesse today.” He let go of his neck and motioned toward the bed, and we sat, hands still linked. “Now that Jesse’s team is done with handling the rest of the clients from the cleaner’s list, he was able to come up and chat. Offer some guidance on how things work at his security company, Falcon Falls.”

“And you were part of that conversation because . . .” My heartbeat kicked up as I waited for him to answer.

“I’m not leaving here. Not leaving you.” He shifted on the bed, cupping my chin with his free hand. “Don’t worry.”

“But do you want to help them? I mean, work with them from time to time?”

“I’m happy here with what I do.”

That look in his eyes, though. “My inability to lie and hold a straight face is rubbing off on you.” I took a second to gather my thoughts. “You spent so much of your life fighting bad guys, and I know you love to cook, but if you’re meant to help others, too, I won’t stand in your way.”

“Maria.” His broody look softened. “I love you, I . . .” His voice trailed off as he closed one eye, realizing he’d slipped up.

I couldn’t help but smile. “And I love you, which is why I’ll support you no matter what. If you want to go on missions here and there, save the world, then you should. The sous-chef at the restaurant has learned a lot from you. He can handle things when you’re not here. You can have both.” I shrugged. “You can have it all. I do.”

“You do?” He tipped his head to the side.

“I have my daughter. My family nearby. A good job that I enjoy. And a man I love wholeheartedly. I feel complete. Happy.” I chewed on my lip, knowing there was one thing I was missing. “I mean, I would like to make love again. I have a list I’d love to check off, and my patience sucks, but—”