Speak Low (Speak Easy 2)

“All right.” She hesitated before hanging up. “Ooh, Tiny. I just got the shivers! Maybe something big is about to happen.”

My stomach plummeted, but I tried to sound hopeful. “Maybe Ted is going to propose.”

She squealed with glee. “Silly, it’s only been a few days. But if he does, you’ll be the first to know.”

#

While I waited for Joey to call me back, I sat on the back stoop with my cigarettes and watched the sun turn orange and sink behind the trees in the yard. As I smoked, I decided on a plan of action. When Joey got back to me, I’d do my best to smooth things over between us and explain the situation to him. He had no real allegiance to Sam the Barber or the River Gang, and after all, they never would have known when and where Enzo’s shipment was arriving if I hadn’t told them.

Joey had probably made pretty good money on the deal, if his new clothes were any indication. And he’d told me this afternoon he was planning on moving back to Chicago. Maybe I could talk him into going sooner rather than later. With the local cops and now feds looking into the heist—not to mention the DiFiores looking to exact retribution—Joey would be safer out of town, and I’d feel better knowing nothing I did could put him in harm’s way.

I’d also feel better with some distance between us.

No matter how much I tried not to think about it, Joey’s kiss wouldn’t leave me alone. And the more I tried to block it from my mind, the more I obsessed over it, analyzing every detail. The shock of his hands on me, the sudden heat of his mouth slanting over mine. It wasn’t overly aggressive or demanding, but it hinted at something powerful underneath—as if Joey had been restraining himself, and if we allowed the barriers to fall…

I shivered, imagining the intensity of it.

God…I didn’t want Joey, did I?

No, that was ridiculous. We’d known each other too long, had too much history. No one got under my skin like Joey did. He was distantly related to Bridget’s late husband, Vince, and from day one, we’d done nothing but scrap. As a boy, he’d cheated at cards, teased me mercilessly about my height, and never once let me win a footrace. For chrissakes, he’d stolen a pair of my underwear when we were fifteen and made money by offering neighborhood boys a penny a peek! Just because he grew up more handsome than he had any right to be didn’t mean he was any different—underneath that fancy new suit, he was still the no-good, pain-in-the-ass delinquent I’d always known.

My stomach growled again, reminding me I still hadn’t eaten, and I decided to go in and forage for some supper. As I stood, a low voice traveled through the dusk. “Hey.”

Gasping, I searched the shadows and slapped a hand to my chest. “Joey? You scared me half to death! You should know better than to sneak up on me.”

“Sorry. I called home, and my sister said you were looking for me.”

I lowered my arm, although my pulse still raced. It’s because he startled you, that’s all. “Actually, it’s the feds who are looking for you. They were at the garage today.”

Joey shrugged. “They don’t have anything on me.”

“Yes they do, Joey. They asked about the hijacking. They flashed a picture of Sam the Barber at me. Asked me if I knew him or if he was a customer of Daddy’s.” I twisted my hands together.

“What did you say?”

“I lied! What the hell do you think I said?”

“Don’t worry about it. Sam’s a big boy. He can take care of himself.”

“I’m not worried about Sam.” Our eyes met briefly before his gaze dropped to my lips, and I lowered my chin. I noticed he’d removed his suit coat and rolled the cuffs of his light blue dress shirt. His exposed hands and wrists made my stomach flutter a little—I had a thing about Joey’s hands. God, I did feel something for Joey, but I didn’t know what it was or how to put it into words. Was it gratitude? Affection? Attraction?

My plan had been to pretend everything was the same between us. But things weren’t the same, and we both knew it.

My eye caught Joey’s gold silk tie, which had been pulled askew. Without thinking, I reached up and straightened it. He sucked in his breath, his muscular chest straining against the shirt and vest of his three-piece suit, so different from the workmen’s clothes I was used to seeing on him.

“Don’t.” He pushed my hands away and took over the task.

“Christ, Joey.” My voice wavered when I spoke. “Don’t be mad at me. You don’t know what I’ve been through. You hijacked that booze and hightailed it out of town, and I had to deal with the consequences.”

“What consequences? I left you the remainder of the ransom money. You were supposed to spring your pop from the DiFiores with it and stay the hell out of trouble. Instead you dive right into it, headfirst.”

“That’s not how it went, dammit! And after the choices you’ve made, you have no right to judge me. If I want to dive into trouble, that’s my business, not yours.” I poked a finger into his chest.

He lifted his chin. “You’ve made that perfectly fuckin’ clear.”

Bringing the heels of my hands to my head, I exhaled. This was not going well. I was supposed to be smoothing things over with Joey, not making them worse. “I’m sorry. I’m extremely grateful for everything you did for me while my father was…gone.”

“He wasn’t gone. He was kidnapped, remember? By Enzo’s father?”