Speak Easy (Speak Easy 1)

He smiled as he adjusted his cuffs, and I twisted my hands together to keep from launching myself at him and tearing the clothes from his body.

“Well, Mr. DiFiore, it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, but I really have to ask you to leave now. My father will not take kindly to a stranger alone in the boathouse with me. Or his liquor.” I turned around to pick up the whisky sack, and by the time I straightened and faced him again, he was gone.

I moved to the doorway and looked out. Nobody. The air was hot and still and silent. What the hell?

Dazed, I walked from the boathouse to my car, opened the trunk and placed the sack inside it. Staring at the burlap, I brought my hands to my face, my belly tightening at the memory of the sheik’s mouth on mine. Enzo DiFiore. I thought about his arms around me, the commanding way he’d slanted his open mouth over mine, and the contraction moved lower in my body. Bridget had joked about spilling the details of my next kiss, but I could never tell her about this.

I wandered back into the boathouse, but instead of grabbing another sack, I plunked down on a crate of scotch and stared in disbelief at the pool of sunlight where we’d stood.

“Enzo DiFiore,” I whispered. Who was he? All I knew about him was his name. And that he’s a good kisser with a talent for lock and key. A laugh bubbled up in me. After all, if he’d wanted to steal from us, or harm me in some way, he could have done it. But all he’d done was follow me. Watch me. Kiss me.

My insides trembled with excitement. Would he seek me out again? At the sound of a car sputtering to a stop outside, I stood and smoothed my clothing. My rosy spirits withered when I saw Joey unloading the whisky I’d just put into the trunk. “Why are you doing that?” I snapped, marching toward him.

“Because this is the biggest space you have and we need it for the crates. The sacks should go under the back seat.”

He was right, which annoyed me. I yanked the whisky from his arms.

“Got your mind on something else?” Joey opened the back door and lifted the seat.

“Like what?” I shouldered him aside and dropped the sack in.

“You tell me. I saw you talking to a guy in the alley earlier. Who was it?”

I turned on him, hands on my hips. “None of your beeswax.”

He smiled at getting a rise out of me, his brown eyes lighting up. “Come on, Tiny, a guy like that, in a suit that fancy?” He looked me up and down. “You’re not his type.”

I lunged for him, giving him a hard shove with both hands on the chest. Joey wasn’t tall but he was solid, so I was surprised when he went over backward. Since I’d thrown all my weight into the push, I went over too and we landed in a heap of tangled limbs on the dirt. To my chagrin, my body betrayed me by tingling at the feel of our torsos pressed together. For one awkward moment, we paused, our faces inches apart.

“Kiss me, you fool,” he said, but then he burst out laughing.

“Go to hell.” I rolled off him and stood, brushing the dust off my skirt.

Joey popped up on his feet, still chuckling. “Good hit. Caught me off guard.”

“Did I hurt you?” I asked hopefully.

“With what—a pebble to the backside?” He readjusted his floppy cap.

I was tempted to keep sparring with him since I was so worked up, but just then Daddy arrived. We got to work emptying the boathouse into our cars, and then drove back to the garage, where we unloaded the booze into the hidden rooms in the basement. No one spoke more than one-word commands or responses, and Daddy looked over his shoulder more than usual. Not that I blamed him—the events of this afternoon had me on edge too.

By the time we were through, I was sticky and tired and my left hip ached. While Daddy went over the day’s take in the office, I sat on the stained cement floor and watched Joey bring in the last of the booze. His black pants hugged his butt as he moved, and a surprising little flutter swept through my belly. He set the whisky down and wiped the sweat from his forehead with the back of his wrist. It left a trail of dirt smudged against his olive skin, but I had to admit he’d gotten better looking in the la

st couple years, sort of grown into his strong nose and wide mouth.

He caught me staring. “See something you like?”

I made a disgusted noise at the back of my throat, as if he hadn’t just read my mind. “No.”

“Joe,” called Daddy. “Come in here a minute.” When Joey stepped into the office, I hopped to my feet, counted to five and followed, stopping just out of sight of the open door.

“Just keep your ears open,” Daddy was saying. “And let me know what you hear.”

About what? I wondered. Did this have anything to do with the letter from Enzo?

Daddy dropped his voice. “And keep an eye on Tiny, too. She needs it.”

Like hell I do. Especially that eye.