Body of Trust: A Romantic Suspense Novel Page 11

  There’s humming coming from the bathroom. I lean against the dresser and smile at the sound of Jesse singing in the shower. It’s charming.

  The water turns off, and I watch as he slides a towel that was hanging on the shower rod down to the side of the curtain that I can’t see. When he opens the curtain, he’s covered in the towel and brushing the long strands of his dirty-blond hair back with his hand.

  His chest is glistening with moisture and pink from how hot the water must have been. His back is to me as he brushes his teeth at the sink. I admire the muscles in his back as they flex with the simple movements.

  I know he knows I’m here. If I’ve learned one thing about Jesse, it’s that he is aware of everyone’s whereabouts at all times.

  “I like your place,” I say.

  He spits into the sink and wipes his mouth with a towel. “It’s the nicest place I’ve ever stayed during a job. I rent it from a woman in a nursing home. Her family can’t sell it, so they rent it for a small amount. It’s hard finding something on a bartender’s salary.”

  “You don’t get paid by the bureau?”

  He turns on his electric razor. “I do, but that’s all in a savings account.”

  “Big plans?” I tease.

  “A few.” He finishes buzzing his jaw. When he turns around, his face is clean and fresh. “You seem disappointed.”

  I bite my lip and look down in embarrassment. I didn’t know my face showed my inward reaction. “Nothing. I just … liked your scruff.”

  “Good to know.” He walks to his closet and takes a pair of black dress pants and a black dress shirt off the hangers.

  He lays them on the bed and then walks up to me by the dresser. His steps slowly pad on the carpet as he closes in on me, pinning my hips to the edge. He smells like soap, musk, and all male. I stare at the smattering of hair on his chest and can’t resist laying my hand on it, feeling his body jolt with the touch.

  I look up at the wet hair that now falls to the side in front of his eyes. There’s trepidation in them.

  “What are you thinking about?” I ask.

  His tongue darts out and licks his lower lip. I watch it glide across and sneak back in as his teeth bite down hard.

  I let out a panted breath.

  “I need to get in there.” He smiles as he motions to the drawer that my butt is resting against.

  I move to the side, and he laughs lightly as he takes a pair of black boxer briefs and socks out.

  At the foot of the bed, he glances back at me with raised brows. I raise mine back in question.

  He spins a pointed-down finger. “Privacy, please.”

  I oblige.

  “I’m kidding. You’ve already seen me naked.”

  I turn back around. “Still, changing in front of someone is kind of intimate.”

  He nods as he drops the towel, showing his full masculinity. “Good thing I like being intimate with you.” He slides on his boxers. “Can I ask you a personal question?”

  “Sure.”

  “Why did you date that guy for so long?”

  “Expectation, I guess. I liked him a lot when we started dating. I loved him actually. At least, I told myself it was love. We got along, and we enjoyed each other’s company.”

  Jesse grimaces as he pulls his pants on. “You didn’t seem that happy.”

  “Do I ever?” I joke, knowing I’m the serious one in the family.

  “Yes,” he states, and my head pops up. “When you’re talking about work or art, when you take that first sip of a drink, and when you’re joking with Sienna.”

  I smash my lips together. “I can think of one more.” He quirks a brow, and I add, “When I’m talking to you. At the bar, those are some of my favorite times. I looked forward to that more than you know.”

  His shirt is still on the bed, but he ditches getting dressed and strolls over to me, just as he did before. This time, he doesn’t hesitate in sliding a hand around my waist, leaning down and kissing my lips.

  We make out like this for a long time. My hands find his ass, and his explore the curves of my waist and hips until he pulls away and rests his forehead against mine.

  The air in my lungs is thick. “I was starting to think you weren’t going to kiss me again.”

  “I’m trying to do the right thing.”

  “I’ve waited months to kiss you. I’m not missing out on any more chances.”

  He stares down at me in shock. “Months?”

  My hand flies to my mouth. I’m embarrassed—no, mortified at my confession. He removes my hand and goes back for another kiss. I fall into it and then playfully push him away.

  “You’re gonna be late for work.”

  He shakes his head and leans back down, claiming my mouth one more time. “Fuck that. I’ve waited a year to kiss you. I’m not missing out on any more chances.”

  My mouth parts from his admission, and he swallows my surprise with his tongue.

  Then, he bites my lower lip, pulling it gently before kissing the tip of my nose. “Glad we’re on the same page.”

  He walks to the bed and puts his shirt on, buttoning it as he goes to the dresser. His wallet, pocketknife, and some of the cash are slid into his pockets. He tucks the shirt in and then slides a belt on.

  In the bathroom, he combs his hair and applies some product, and then he washes his hands. He puts a few items into a small duffel and leaves the room. A minute later, we’re at the front door, him patting his pockets to make sure he has everything, including his keys.

  He walks me to my car and closes the door behind me, and then he gets in his.

  I follow him to Villa Russo. When we get there, he goes to the employee lot, and I turn into the main entrance.

  “Good evening, Miss Sorrentino.” The valet holds my door open.

  “Evening,” I reply then walk up the path and into the restaurant. The hostess greets me with a warm welcome.

  “Miss Sorrentino, we are so happy to see you. You’re early for your reservation,” she says, looking down at the book in front of her.

  I notice she doesn’t mention the events of Friday evening. Looks like the don’t ask, don’t tell policy is more than a family motto. It’s a lifestyle.

  “Long day at work, so I thought I’d come early for a drink to unwind.”

  “Excellent idea. Please have a seat at the Oak Bar.” She walks me into the bar area.

  The room is filled with many of my uncles. They are conversing in the back room. When they see me, Uncle Enzo and Uncle Joey come to my side.

  “Check out who the cat dragged in,” Enzo says with his arms out. He’s wearing his signature sunglasses indoors. Yes, he’s the kind of guy who covers his eyes, so no one knows where he’s looking. “You okay, kiddo?”

  “I’m good. Are you guys all right? How’s Uncle Vic?”

  He waves me off like nothing big happened. “Don’t worry about any of that. Everything’s fine. As long as the women and children are good, we’re good.”

  Uncle Joey leans in for a kiss and a hug. “I want you to know that we are doing everything to find out who caused this trouble.”

  “Do you have any idea who it might be?”

  “No, no,” both men say, not even looking at each other.

  I know they’re full of it. Jesse told me everyone knows. With their easy lies, I can see how effortless it was to keep me in my bubble for so long.

  “Nothing for you to worry about anyway,” Enzo adds as he pats my shoulder. “I trust you haven’t talked about it to anyone. Makes for a difficult time for Villa Russo. We wouldn’t want anyone shutting the place down. Plus, the family can handle this.”

  I nod, understanding the Sorrentino way. The family way. Which I now realize is the mob way. Man, have I grown a lot in a week.

  “Come. Let’s have a drink,” Joey says, and we walk to the bar.

  I take a seat in my usual spot, and the men order from a bartender on duty. Jesse walks in and taps the other bartender o
n the shoulder, letting him know he’s got us. His expression is blank as he makes the drinks. I have to remind myself that he’s undercover right now. He’s not the man I’ve been with the last twenty-four hours.

  A Peroni, a Stoli on the rocks, and one Moscow mule are placed in front of us. We take our glasses and salute. I watch as Jesse quickly cleans his hands to get the copper residue off. I can’t believe he’s been allergic to it all this time.

  Enzo calls Jesse closer, making him lean over the bar as he places a hand on Jesse’s back and leans into his ear. Quietly but loud enough so I can hear too, he says, “We heard what you did for our Amelia.”

  Jesse’s eyes widen a little.

  “How you got her out the front door is beyond me, but we’re all very thankful for the quick thinking and for the … you know.” He makes a face that says Jesse should know what he’s talking about. It dawns on me that he’s thanking Jesse for killing one of the Lugazzis. “I know the boss has already talked to you about this, but we are all very grateful.”

  Enzo takes an envelope out from the inside pocket of his jacket and slides it over to Jesse. “For your graduation.” His voice lingers with the last syllable, waiting for Jesse to show he understands that the card is a payoff. Clearly, Jesse hasn’t graduated from anything other than the up the ladder of my family’s good graces.

  I maintain an expression of boredom at this because, frankly, I just don’t know what to do with my face. Jesse thanks the men, adding nothing more as he slides the thick envelope of money into his back pocket.

  Enzo kisses me again, and then he and Joey walk off.

  I sip my drink and make conversation with people as they come up to the bar and then depart for their dining reservations. The men disappear down the hall, toward the President’s Room, leaving me and Jesse as the only two in the bar for now.

  “Do I want to know how much money is in that envelope?” I ask quietly as he wipes down the bar.

  He keeps his head down, as if he’s not talking to me. “A simple kindness for doing something good for the family.”

  I look at the ceiling. “I’m surprised there aren’t cameras in here, so they could have seen you take me to the cellar.”

  He smiles. “Trust me, cameras are the last thing your uncles want in here.”

  I narrow my eyes. “And now, you’re one of them. Promoted. First, Uncle Frankie offers you a job, and now, you’ve graduated. Do I even want to know what that means?”

  “You might have been in the dark about your family, but you always knew money was exchanged in cards. You just never cared to ask why.”

  “Are you saying I’m naive?”

  “You know I’m not saying that.”

  “I’m not naive enough to know that you just secured yourself a favor with the mob. For someone who is up against the mob, you’re certainly building them up to take them down.”

  “Hey.” He beckons me with his word, as his actions aren’t allowed. “It’s part of the job. I don’t mean any ill will to your uncles. Their business is shady as fuck, but they’re good men. This”—he nods toward his back pocket—“is because you’re priceless. They love you, and I respect them for that.”

  The other bartender walks in with a crate of glasses and restocks one of the shelves. I shake my head and take a drink. Just when I start to doubt him, he reins me back in with his actions and words. I can’t believe I was so foolish to not put the moves on him all this time. If the shoot-out hadn’t happened, I never would have crossed the line. Neither would he.

  “So, Jesse, my friend is single and looking for a nice guy,” I say loud enough for the other bartender to hear. “Are you single?”

  He stills and glares at me, then over his shoulder to the guy stocking the shelf, and back to me, wondering what kind of game I’m playing. “No. I’m seeing someone.”

  “Oh,” I say, disappointed. “That’s unfortunate. My friend is pretty awesome.”

  “So is my girl,” he answers easily.

  “She must be beautiful,” I add.

  “Gorgeous. And smart,” he says, and I smile, maybe too big. Jesse doesn’t seem to like this. He pats the other bartender and asks him seriously, “You’re single, right? Talk to Amelia. She has a friend for you.”

  Jesse disappears to the other side of the bar, leaving me with the other bartender, talking about my imaginary single friend for way too long. He keeps his distance from me for the next hour, and I’m now on my third drink and scrolling through Instagram.

  “Amelia.” A voice I know grabs my attention.

  I look up to see Anthony Buonno, my ex-boyfriend, standing in the Oak Bar.

  “Hi,” I say. “You haven’t been here for a while.”

  “I know. It’s my old man’s birthday. He wanted to come up here with the whole clan. There’s twenty-five of us tonight. We’re in the main dining room if you want to join us.”

  “Oh.” I’m taken aback by the offer. I haven’t seen the guy in a while, and here he is, acting like he didn’t cheat on me with another woman. “No. I’m having dinner with my family.”

  “Your dad is here?” His eyes show worry.

  If I can count on one thing, it’s that Anthony is afraid of my father’s disapproval of him. Clearly, he doesn’t know my dad is in hiding.

  “Yes. He’ll be here soon. I’m sure he’d love to see you.” My smile is bright with intention.

  Anthony’s fidgeting hands show panic as he closes the space between us, forcing me to put my phone on the bar and look up at him. “I’m glad to see you here tonight. I’ve been wanting to call you, but I don’t know where to start.”

  With a thousand insults on my tongue, I muster the willpower to hold them in.

  “I miss you,” he says, and my jaw drops. “I made a mistake—a stupid mistake—and I want to make it up to you.”

  I narrow my gaze at him. He looks like the Anthony I dated. Same black hair and dark eyes. Same chin dimple and impeccable dress. Same ten-thousand-dollar Rolex on his wrist that he got for graduating high school—I later learned he’d paid someone to take his final exams. Yes, he’s the same Anthony I dated. That right there is the problem.

  “No, you don’t.”

  “I do,” he states emphatically. “You’re everything I’ve ever wanted in a woman. It just took me too long to realize just how perfect we are for each other. Our families get along, and we enjoy the same things. We had fun together. All the memories of us here, on vacation, at parties, or going to the clubs … it was a good time.”

  The more I learn about the life I was too blind to see, the more I start to see all aspects of it for what it was. A show. We dress the part, we speak the words, and we do as we’re told. It’s all for the face of the family. It’s fake, right down to the relationships we keep.

  “You want back in my father’s good graces. You want a woman who is subservient to you in public because you know she won’t cause a scene. You want what you don’t have.” I stand and make myself eye-level with him. “This is too convenient. You showing up here tonight and making this announcement is almost comical.”

  “I was going to call you—”

  “I don’t want you to call me any more than I want you to walk up to me and announce how sorry you are. I want a fighter. A man who will leap over a bar to protect me from gunfire. Someone who will run into the darkest alleyway and pummel a man to the death for me. A man who will stop at nothing to protect me.” I smile as I add, “Who will argue with me, and for me.”

  “You’ve changed,” he accuses as he leans back on his heels and appraises me.

  I shake my head. “No. I’ve always wanted those things. I just never said it out loud before.”

  I glance over his shoulder and see my uncles walking into the room. Anthony and I both know they’d never do anything to him out of respect for his father. It doesn’t mean he still isn’t intimidated by them.

  “I think it’d be wise for you to go back to your family dinner now.”


  He puts his hands in his pockets and scrunches his mouth. Anthony has never liked losing.

  He stomps off, and Uncle Joey stops him to talk while I go back to scrolling through my phone.

  When I gaze up toward Jesse, he’s not looking at me, but he has a smile on his face.

  Chapter Twelve

  If I thought I’d get any information out of my mother with Gia around, I was sorely mistaken. The two spend the entire dinner talking about anything but my father. It also doesn’t help that Anthony is sitting a few tables away.

  “I already told you, there is no way I’m getting back together with a man who cheated on me,” I tell her after the third time she’s brought it up.

  Even Gia has to agree with me. “He’s gross, Mom. And what kind of respectful daughter are you raising by telling her to run to a man like that?”

  I high-five my sister. “That’s right. Sorrentino women aren’t doormats.”

  Mom guffaws. “We also don’t marry beneath us. That boy comes from a good household. I’ll go to my grave before I let you marry anyone other than someone who comes from a reputable family.”

  My shoulders fall. “You’ve never said that before. That’s the kind of thing I expect from Uncle Frankie, not you. I thought we were free to pick whoever we wanted.”

  “Of course you are. So long as he comes from a good Italian family and is approved by your father and me.”

  She picks up the dessert menu and orders the cheesecake. Gia gets the lava cake. I pass on dessert.

  I never thought of my parents as antiquated thinkers. Clearly, I was wrong.

  I’m a grown woman who honors her parents, yet I refuse to allow them to choose who I’ll spend my forever with.

  Mom grabs my and Gia’s hands and gives them a squeeze. Her eyes mist over as she looks at us lovingly. “I’m so happy we were able to do this. I needed my girls tonight. This was very good.”

  She kisses both our knuckles, and I decide this isn’t the time to argue.

  “We’re happy you’re happy,” I state, and she raises her hand to my cheek.