“Are you getting up?”
Gabrielle woke to find Max licking her cheek and the curious face of Luca’s mini-me only inches away.
“Yes.” Her stomach tightened and she felt the familiar pang of longing as she studied the little boy who would be about five years older than her child if she had lived.
“When?”
“Um…” She glanced at the clock. 9 A.M. When had she ever slept in so late on the weekend? David had been an early riser, and she’d gotten used to early starts and early finishes. “Now.”
“Papa says we can’t eat until you get up. He says you need to sleep, but I don’t like cold pancakes.”
“Neither do I.” She gave Max a pat. “How about you take Max out, and I’ll get dressed so your pancakes don’t get cold.”
He clutched Max’s collar and turned, his face intense. Were children his age always so serious?
“Hurry.”
Gabrielle turned in the bed, resting her hand on her elbow as the soft morning light flickered through the window blinds. Her night with Luca hadn’t ended in the shower, and she felt deliciously sore. She was also naked and had to wait until Matteo was gone before she could slip out of the sheets.
She felt lighter this morning, unburdened. The darkness had retreated, and in its place was a curious shade of gray.
After showering and dressing, she finger-combed her hair and made her way to the kitchen where Luca and Matteo were talking over a glossy gray-and-white granite breakfast bar.
“Sorry to keep you waiting.” She moved toward the kitchen, and Luca’s arm shot out.
“Guests on that side. Cooks on this side.”
“I can help out,” she protested.
“I’m sure you can.” A smile tugged at his lips. “But I do have some experience in the kitchen.”
“I thought you just ran the restaurant. I didn’t know you also cooked.” She took a seat on the bar stool while he dished out plates of pancakes and bacon along with a fresh fruit salad and steaming mugs of coffee.
Luca snorted. “You can’t run a restaurant if you don’t know how to cook. And I learned from the best. Our family practically lives in the kitchen, and my mother teaches as she cooks.”
“I need to feed Max, too.”
He glanced over at Max, sitting beside Matteo’s stool like he belonged there. “Max has been fed and walked. He and Matteo had a great time together.”
“I told Papa I want a dog just like him,” Matteo said. “He likes to run, and I like to run. We could run in the park together.”
“You have to discuss the dog with your nonna,” Luca said gently. “She’s the one who would have to look after it.”
“Why can’t I live with you, Papa? Then we could have a dog and look after it ourselves.” Matteo’s lips turned down at the corners, and Luca’s face tightened.
“We’ve discussed this before. I’m never home, so I can’t look after you the way your nonna does.”
“But why?”
Tension thickened the air between them, and Gabrielle picked up her fork, thinking frantically of a way to avert what looked like an oncoming storm. “This looks so good, I don’t know where to start. What do you think, Matteo? What’s best?”
“Start with the pancakes,” Matteo said. “Papa makes them special for guests.”
Gabrielle tamped down an unexpected surge of jealousy. Of course, Luca would have had other women over for the night. She’d met one of his exes at the restaurant, and she was sure there were others. How could there not be? He oozed sex appeal.
“I’m sure they’re very good.” She focused on her pancake, not wanting to look up and see the truth in Luca’s eyes while she tried to get a handle on her emotions. But dammit, he was hers.
“Best pancakes ever.” She savored the sweetness of pure maple syrup soaked into the light fluffy pancakes.
Matteo beamed. “She likes them, Papa.”
“Now we know what to make tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow? I just came for one—” She cut herself off when Matteo tugged on her hair.
“You have nice hair. It’s soft and golden.”
“Thank you.”
He touched her cheek. “You’re pretty, too. And your eyes are very blue like the sky.”
Her lips quivered with a smile. “I see your father is teaching you all sorts of nice things to say to girls.”
Laughing, Luca opened his hands. “It’s part of the culture.”
“And very effective in setting him up to be a master of seduction when he grows up.”
Luca’s phone buzzed on the counter and he excused himself to take the call. Left alone with Matteo, Gabrielle’s heart pounded and her mouth went dry. She sipped her coffee, struggling with a maelstrom of emotion. She’d tried to avoid being around children for the last two years so she wouldn’t be reminded of what she had lost. And now that she was alone with Luca’s son, the pain started to resurface. She had always assumed her baby would be a girl. But what if he’d been a boy? Would he have looked like David, the way Matteo looked like Luca, or would he have looked like her?
“You’re not eating,” Matteo pointed out.
“I was just thinking about something, and it took my mind off the food.” She speared another piece of pancake.
“Papa didn’t know if you liked pancakes. One lady who stayed over only drank coffee for breakfast.” He shoved a pancake in his mouth, smearing syrup on his cheek.
She didn’t want to know, but she did. “Does he have a lot of friends stay over?”
“I don’t know. He’s never let me stay here before, but he told me about the coffee lady. Do you get to stay here again tonight? Do you think Papa will let me stay, too?”
Gabrielle put down her knife and fork and reached for his napkin. “I was just here for one night. I have some things to do this weekend, and on Monday I have to go to work.”
“Where do you work?”
“I’m a police officer.” She dabbed at his cheek, wiping the syrup away.
Matteo’s eyes lit up. “That’s cool. None of Papa’s other friends are police officers. Do you have a gun?”
“Yes.”
He dropped his knife and fork and jumped off his chair. “Can I see it?”
“Well, I don’t know if your dad would like that.” She tucked into the crispy bacon and finished it in two mouthfuls. There were advantages to sleeping with a man who knew how to cook. “How about we ask him when he’s done his call?”
Matteo hung his head and his shoulders slumped. “He’ll say no. Papa doesn’t like guns.”
She snorted a laugh and grabbed a napkin to hide her smile. “Well, that’s very sensible. Guns are dangerous. We use them only if we have to.”
“What about a police car?” He climbed back on his seat. “Do you have a police car? Can I go for a ride and turn on the siren?”
“I don’t use one anymore. Only patrol officers use police cars. I’m a detective now.”
He gave an exaggerated sigh. “What about a badge or a uniform? Do you have those?”
“I do have a badge with me. I can show it to you after breakfast.” She smiled, realized that she’d been talking to Matteo for at least ten minutes and she hadn’t had any flashbacks, and the sadness had retreated under the constant barrage of questions.
Matteo beamed. “None of my friends know a police officer in real life. I’m going to tell them about you.” He hesitated, a piece of bacon half in and half out of his mouth. “Are you Papa’s girlfriend?”
She opened her mouth and closed it again. What were they? Definitely more than a casual hook-up. Friends? With benefits? They’d never talked about what they had between them, but after last night when they’d opened up to each other, she felt closer to him than anyone she’d ever known except her mom—closer even than David. “I guess we’re friends.”
“Gabrielle is Papa’s girl.”
She looked up, saw Luca standing in the doorway, leaning against the doorframe like he’d been there for a long time. His arms were folded over his chest, highlighting the bulge of his biceps beneath the sleeves of his white T-shirt.
“His only girl.” He added, lifting an eyebrow to let her know he had, indeed, heard most of the conversation.
“Woman,” she corrected. “And I’m not your—”
Luca chuckled, cutting her off. “Get over here then, woman, and give your man a kiss.”
She glanced over at Matteo and gave a warning shake of her head, but Luca just crossed the kitchen and pulled her into his arms. “He’s been raised in an Italian household, bella. We’re affectionate people. Everyone kisses, and he’s seen this kind of affection between my sister, Angela, and her boyfriend, and my brother, Alex, and the many girlfriends who have shown up at the breakfast table, only to be replaced the next week. If you’re going to be with me, you need to get used to it.”
Was she “with” him? Certainly, they were working together to catch Garcia. But could they be more? He seemed to have made a unilateral decision about their relationship status, and if he’d been a normal guy in a normal job, she would have been happy to know he wanted them to be together. She cared about him deeply, and the more time she spent with him, the more she found to like. He had been respectful and caring when she told him about her past, and he had never shown any jealousy or resentment about her relationship with David. He was fiercely protective, funny, and charming; he clearly loved his mother and siblings and was adored by his son. So unlike the stereotype of a typical mobster.
And yet that’s exactly what he was. Although he’d never said the words, she knew he was in the mob. How did he think their relationship would work? His friends and family wouldn’t trust her. And what if he told her he’d done something illegal? She’d be in a conflict position, her knowledge making her an accomplice to the crime. Of course, conflicts would be the least of her worries if Agent Palmer found out she had shared police information and joined forces with the mob to hunt down Garcia.
Although she’d boldly claimed she was willing to take the risk of going to jail to catch Garcia, she hadn’t thought it through. Yes, she was willing to risk her career to catch him, but she wasn’t prepared to risk her freedom. The night she met Luca was the first time she’d thought that maybe there was something else to live for, and now, as he wrapped his arms around her in his sunlit kitchen, in the kind of idyllic scene she had never allowed herself to imagine since David’s death, there was another.
Of course, he didn’t just peck her on the lips. No. Matteo was treated to a full-on, full-mouth, tongue-in-all-the-wrong places (if you were being avidly watched by a six-year-old), hands-on-the-ass (thank God, he couldn’t see behind her) kiss.
“You taste sweet,” she said licking her lips.
“You taste like sex,” he murmured in her ear. “If Matteo wasn’t here, I’d tie you to the table, pour syrup all over you and lick it off until you were begging to come.”
Her eyes widened and mouth went dry. “Why does everything have to be about sex with you?”
“I’m a sexual man.”
“Yes, you are.” Heat pooled between her legs. “I’m suddenly very glad we’re not alone and we have your mini-me to take down the heat. You two are so alike it’s scary.”
Luca stiffened and pulled away. “I told you. We are nothing alike.”
“Yes, you are.” Puzzled, she stroked a soothing finger along his jaw. “You have the same shape of face, the same curve to your eyebrows, same eyes and nose. His hair has the same wave as yours, although it’s dark. You both have hazel eyes—”
“Gabrielle.” Luca snapped, his voice slicing through the room. “I know you have good intentions, but you are seeing things that aren’t there. He looks like Gina. He doesn’t look like me. It’s not possible that he looks like me. Why the fuck do you keep bringing it up?”
She glanced over at Matteo who had frozen in place, a piece of pancake hanging from his fork inches away from his mouth. Her heart went out to him, just as it had gone out to Max when she’d seen him that first day in the shelter, cowering in the corner. She understood better than anyone what it was like to lose someone but to burden Matteo with his issues wasn’t right.
“Excuse us please, sweetheart.” She smiled at Matteo so he wouldn’t think anything was wrong. “I’m going to steal your dad away for a second. I think Max would be happy to taste that pancake on your fork.” She shoved Luca hard toward the bedroom.
“I need to speak to you. Alone.”
If she hadn’t been so angry, Luca’s shocked expression would have been almost comical, as was his uncharacteristic obedience.
“Don’t swear at me.” She poked him in the chest after closing the bedroom door behind them. “And get over yourself. I don’t know what your problem is, but it’s not that beautiful, sweet little boy out there who absolutely adores you and wants desperately to feel a connection with the father he loves. Maybe he has some of Gina’s features. So what. Just because she wasn’t the perfect mom, doesn’t make him any less your son.”
Luca swept his hand over the dresser, smashing a vase against the wall. Shards of pottery tumbled over the floor like purple rain. “My relationship with Matteo is my business. You don’t know anything about me. You don’t know anything about him. He doesn’t need you to defend him. He’s perfectly happy. He understands why things are the way they are.”
Gabrielle stared at him, trying to understand what had set him off. She’d touched this nerve last night and backed off, but after talking to Matteo this morning, hearing the longing in his voice, and seeing his shock and pain when his father refused to acknowledge their resemblance, she had to say something. She wasn’t the same woman who had sat for two years in an office pushing paper while a monster roamed the city taking innocent lives. She had a voice, and Matteo needed someone to speak for him, someone who wasn’t afraid to push back against the two hundred pounds of angry alpha male now glowering at her from across the room.
“What about the mole on his ear?”
“Gabrielle.” His voice thundered through the room. “Leave the subject the fuck alone. It’s none of your business.”
Even when you are at your most vulnerable, you are safe with me.
She closed the distance between them and leaned up to press a soft kiss behind his left ear. “You have a mole here,” she said softly. “Matteo has the same one, in the same place. They’re hereditary. The one I have on my earlobe is the same as my mother’s and her mother had it, too.”
His face smoothed to an expressionless mask and he took a step away. “We’ve talked enough about this. Don’t bring it up again.”
“Well then, I guess Max and I will get going,” she said. “Because there’s a little boy out there who is desperate to spend the day with his dad. And I think his dad needs to spend a little less time being an ass and a little more time with him.”
“Gabrielle.” He called to her as she walked away, but for once he didn’t follow.