Accidental Witness (Morelli Family 1)

I shift on my knees, wishing he wouldn’t dig into it. “I think he felt bad for all he’s put us through.”

That only causes his scowl to deepen. “He doesn’t feel remorse.”

“I don’t know what to tell you,” I finally say. “But can we just enjoy this? Who cares why?”

He meets my gaze, searching, and I’m terrified he’s going to find something. I can’t keep the fear from my eyes. I try belatedly to disguise it, but I start to feel sick, knowing I wasn’t fast enough.

Once he finds what he’s looking for or gives up searching for it, he leans back against the couch, his head falling back, and stares up at the ceiling. I feel hot all over, and not from the scalding shower I just took. I can’t come this far, do this much, only to lose him before we even have a chance.

But I can’t even blame him if he can’t do this with me. It’s a lot to handle, and we’re way too young for this shit.

Without looking at me, still staring at the ceiling, he says, “Tell me something, Mia.”

My chest feels hollow, knowing what’s coming. I don’t want to lie, but I can’t tell the truth. Mateo’s words come back to me and I’m so conflicted, I feel sick.

“Of course,” I murmur, hating how hesitant I sound.

Now he sits forward again, leaning on his thighs, and stares me straight in the eye. “Do you love me?”

Relief pours through me that that’s the question. “Yes,” I say immediately, grabbing his hand between mine. “Yes, I do.”

“Do you want to put Mateo behind us?”

I almost can’t breathe with how much. “So, so badly.”

Nodding slowly, still holding my gaze, he says, “Then let’s do it.”

I can hardly contain my joy, moving forward on my knees, wanting to kiss him. But I stop, because as much as I want to, I still feel so… soiled. If he had the images of Mateo’s mouth crashing against mine earlier that night, he wouldn’t want my kisses.

But he doesn’t, so he leans in and gives me the kiss I’m too hesitant to give him. I wrap my arms around his neck, rising up to reach him better. As I’m kissing Vince, and his arms wrap me in a hug that makes me think he’s as afraid as I am of what could come between us, I know the only way is to let it go. That’s why I did all this to begin with—so we could have our freedom. We’re not free of Mateo if I carry him with me.

I’ll lie. If he ever asks, I’ll lie.

And he’ll love me for it.

Chapter Thirty

I climb the three concrete stairs of the porch, using my hands as shields around my face so I can peer into the window of our new living room.

Amusement drips from Vince’s words. “You know there’s a key.”

“I like the carpet,” I tell him, ignoring his logic. “It looks soft.”

“And if we use this key here, we can go in and see if it is.”

I pull back from the window, placing a hand on my hip, and turn back to give him a discouraging stare. “This is our first place. Let me enjoy this.”

He rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling. I enjoy the lightness in him once more—it’s been a long time.

Mateo stands right next to Vince, hands shoved into the pockets of his long black coat. I’m surprised by how similar they look from here, both with their dark heads, similar heights, similar features.

At least if I would’ve been pregnant, it would’ve been hard to tell which one was the father without a test. Thankfully, it won’t be an issue.

I sigh, full of lightness myself.

“The carpet’s new,” Mateo remarks, smiling faintly at my enthusiasm. “And it is soft.”

“I love soft carpet,” I state, grinning and coming back down the steps to stand in the yard with them.

I stand by Vince and look back at the house. It’s a converted duplex, so only half the house is ours, but we don’t have to pay Mateo any rent.

“The other unit’s full at least through the summer. You can keep the rent from that one—that way you’ll have a little money to live on.”

Glancing at his cousin, Vince says, “You don’t want a cut?”

Mateo shakes his head. “I don’t need it. You will. It’s clean and in good repair, but it’s a far cry from what you’re used to.”

“No pool?” Vince asks, mockingly.

Smirking, Mateo says, “No pool.”

“I’m so okay with that,” I announce. “I’ve got by on a shoestring budget before, I can do it again.”

“You’ll have to teach me,” Vince says lightly.

Quirking an eyebrow, I say, “You’ll have to eat jarred spaghetti sauce.”

Clutching his heart, he asks, “Why do you wound me like this?”

I smile, leaning in and brushing a soft, impulsive kiss across his lips. “I’ll make it up to you.”