“I do too. Aren’t we lucky?”
Saoirse squeezed my leg under the table, keeping her focus on my mom. Thank Christ, because I remembered the incident she was talking about. My mother undersold the dramatics of eight-year-old Luca. I’d been sobbing, almost hysterical, over how much I loved my family.
Weird kid.
At least I hid it better now.
Dad wiped his mouth. “Are you finding time for that these days?”
“That?” I leaned back in my chair. “You mean my art?”
“Mmm. From what Clara says, you’re at Rossi later than her most days.”
“You’re checking up on me?” It came out harsher than intended, but this was a sore line of questioning. While my mother had cultivated my little artist heart, my father had never quite understood me. He was all facts and numbers. It made him a great CEO, but I didn’t work the same way and never would.
His brow winged. “I had a conversation with my daughter, Luca. You came up in conversation. I’m not spying on you. I’m interested in both you and my company.”
“My company,” I corrected.
“Not because you want it.”
My arms folded over my chest. “Does it matter why it’s mine? The fact is it is. And since you’re checking up on me, I presume you’re watching our stock prices.”
“Of course I am. I have a vested interest in Rossi. That’s my retirement. My legacy.”
“Mine too,” I replied.
“There’s no need for you to get your back up, Luca. I’m not telling you how to run things. I’m not going to wedge my way back in. Rossi is yours. I should be able to ask questions without it being viewed as an attack on you.” Dad folded his arms too, mirroring my pose.
“Then ask me.”
He cocked his head. “I would. If our conversations didn’t devolve into you feeling like I don’t trust your decision-making abilities.”
I huffed. “Do you?”
“I do, or I wouldn’t have put my full support behind you.” He gestured to Saoirse. “I trusted you implicitly, even when you were in the throes of rebelling. I always knew you would rise to the role when it was time. And look at you, taking the reins of Rossi without faltering even though it came a lot sooner than either of us expected. You married a beautiful woman, and you’re making a home with her. I knew you had this in you, Luca.”
“I’ll never be you.”
Mom spoke up. “No one wants you to be your father. He certainly doesn’t.”
Dad nodded sharply. “I have Clara as my clone. I don’t need two.”
My mother reached across the table, palm up. Slowly, Dad unfolded his arms to meet her in the middle, enfolding her hand in his.
“Rossi needed a breath of fresh air,” Mom said. “And your father needed a reason to step down. He won’t admit either, but he knows I’m right.”
Dad grunted again, his mouth pulling into a frown, but the way he looked at her was soft as always, and he held her hand tight, not denying her opinion.
Bless that fucking cat. Clementine chose that moment to walk right up to a small succulent in a clay pot sitting on the edge of a shelf and bat it with her paw. It plummeted to the floor while she watched, shattering into a million pieces. Then she sat on her princess ass and started grooming herself as if she hadn’t just committed mayhem for no good reason.
After my parents left, Saoirse and I ended up in the den, with Clem passed out on the couch between us.
“I think you needed to have that conversation with your dad,” she said.
I grunted, which made her laugh. My eyes narrowed. “What?”
“You sounded exactly like him.”
“I’m nothing like him.”
“Okay.” She absently stroked Clementine’s back. “Your parents are really in love. It’s nice to see. I think my parents were like that when I was young, but life…”
“I once heard my mother tell Clara the key to her long and happy marriage is choosing each other. The choice didn’t happen only once at the altar. They have continued to choose each other throughout their lives together.”
Saoirse nodded slowly. “My parents chose each other once, then let the chips fall where they may after.” She slung her foot over mine, where it rested on the ottoman. “When you get married for real, you’ll have to remember that. Choose her and keep choosing her.”
My mother had been right. I’d gotten a lot better at dealing with my emotions over the years. They didn’t burst out of me anymore. They were there, contained but just as powerful.
And what my wife just said to me? I felt that deep.
Chapter Thirtythree
Luca
“Bend over. Hands around your ankles.”
Saoirse arched a brow at me. “No hello? How are you?”
Her ass was asking for my hand, so I gave her what she wanted, smacking her bare flesh. “I’m not really in the mood for jokes.”
Not with her standing in front of me naked, her clothes puddled on the carpet. Not when it had been over a week since I’d been inside her.
Saoirse finished her tenure at Rossi three weeks ago. Miles had timed his departure from Andes to coincide with hers. Since then, they’d thrown themselves into their business, which they’d dubbed Peak Strategies.
I respected that they didn’t want to cash in on their family names, but a feral part of me wished Saoirse had used Rossi. Not for me to claim her business, but so anyone who met with her would know she was claimed. The big rock she wore on her finger wasn’t enough for me.
Neither was the time we were able to spend together.
Not working in the same building meant our lunch meetings were more difficult to arrange. Saoirse and Miles used the condo as their office, and I was strapped to my desk at Rossi, in the midst of an internal audit on top of my regular duties.
Breaking away during the day had become mostly impossible.
Our evenings had been spent either working, spending time with my family, or at client dinners.
Which was why it had been a week since we’d done this. Six days too long. Especially when I lived day in, day out with this woman. Her scent. Her long legs. Tiny pajamas. Sensual presence. I spent more time hard than not.
My boundaries were so fucking blurred I barely saw them. This one was the last one standing. We slept apart. We didn’t fuck at home.
But I was playing a losing game.
A battle I could already see the outcome of, and I wouldn’t be the winner.
I was sure of that as I slid into my wife and my eyes rolled back from the sheer euphoria of being enveloped in her perfect, slick heat.
She was bent in half for me. Crying my name as my pelvis met her ass. Clenching around me and drawing me in for more.
But it wasn’t enough.
I pulled out and spun her around, standing her up straight. “Come here.”
We moved to the bed, my back against the headboard, Saoirse in my lap, my cock deep inside her. She rocked her hips, taking me deep, then retreating, the velvet glide of her inner walls eliciting vibrating groans from me.
“There’s my girl.” I cupped the back of her head and dipped my lips to hers. She opened for me, touching her tongue to mine. She was as sweet as ever, delicious, exciting, yet familiar.