I stroke the sides of her waist, trying to contain my anger over her first words—no one’s ever defended her before. How can that be? Not a parent? A friend? “I guess people usually assume you can handle things on your own. Hell, I know you can. But that doesn’t mean I’m not gonna go in swinging for you every fucking time.”
She traces her fingernails down the sides of my neck. “Swoon,” she murmurs.
“Yeah, baby, I’ll make you swoon.” I curl my forearm under her knees and sweep her into the air, damsel style. “Let me take you back to my bed.”
She laughs—a husky sound—and kisses my neck.
I carry her to the elevator, and refuse to put her down. Even when we get into our suite, I keep holding her, bringing her to the balcony, where I sit on the wicker loveseat and arrange her on my lap.
I stroke her back, dismayed to discover it’s covered in tiny scrapes from the wall of the HVAC.
“No one ever defended you?” I ask. “Even when you were little?”
She sighs. “My mom’s a doormat. That’s why she married my asshole dad, I guess. Sondra’s parents stayed out of it. I think my dad intimidated them, too. Sondra would’ve stuck up for me, but I’m a year older, so I was always the know-it-all. I didn’t let her nurture me much. It was always the other way around.”
I kiss her shoulder.
“Who was that guy, anyway? Anyone you need to worry about pissing off?”
I scoff. “No. He’s some cousin. Nobody important. That’s why Nico let me get a few swings in.” Speaking of Nico, I’m an asshole to make him break up shit at his own bachelor’s party. I pull out my phone and text an apology.
Corey watches me. “You and Nico are close.”
“Yeah. Way closer than we are to our older brothers. Nico was my defender growing up. He protected me. We’re different from the rest of them, at least I like to think so. We didn’t take to family business, even though it was shoved down our throats. Honestly, I think Nico started hatching the plan for the Bellissimo way back in high school. Trying to scheme his way into a different future. And I’m lucky he took me with him.”
“Were you here from the beginning?”
I nod. I still remember breaking ground on this project—Nico and I showing up to supervise the contractors. “I got pulled back into family shit two years ago and had to go to Chicago. Then Sicily.”
“And are you back to stay now?” She shifts on my lap to catch my eyes.
Is she asking about our future?
Can we even have one?
“Yeah. If Nico needs help, no one else in the family can pull me away. Nico’s profits trump all else, so he can demand the soldiers he requires.”
My phone buzzes and I check the message. It’s from Nico. I’m leaving. They’re too shit-faced to notice. Tony’s staying to keep an eye on things.
I’m relieved he didn’t demand I come back. I should offer, but I don’t want to. I just want to hold Corey. Share secrets with her. Break in our new bed.
Corey climbs off my lap. “Do you have to go back down there?”
I stand and wrap my arm around her waist from behind, pull her back against me. “Nope. I’m staying right here with you, bella.”
“Good,” she murmurs. “Let’s go to bed.”
Chapter 13
Corey
“Tell me this isn’t a surreal experience for you.” I straighten Sondra’s wedding gown in the back and pour two glasses of champagne. We’re in her bridal suite, waiting for the ceremony to begin.
“Out of body,” she confirms. “Why didn’t we elope? This is insane.” She looks beautiful in an open-back filmy affair, her hair in a loose up-do. The bouquet is champagne pink roses. I’m in a midnight blue cocktail dress, fitted over the hips with a flare at the calf.
Nico and Sondra’s wedding is an evening affair, on the top floor of one of Chicago’s ritziest hotels. Nico hired a wedding planner who consulted with Sondra, so we’re pretty stress-free, other than having to deal with the two sets of families who couldn’t be more different.
At least my dad wasn’t invited. Sondra’s parents leaned on her hard, but she didn’t budge. Of course, leaving him off the guest list wasn’t just for me. It’s for the entire Tacone family who wouldn’t appreciate the presence of a fed at any family gathering.
But even without that movie-worthy stressor, mixing Sondra’s midwestern family with the Tacone clan is pretty hilarious. If you have a sense of humor. Which we’re working on.
I hand her a champagne flute and clink it with mine. “Drink up. It will help. I promise.”
She gives a nervous laugh and we both drink. I guess we’re making up for her lack of a bachelorette party now. Nico attempted to head off the stereotypical Vegas girls gone wild by sending us to a spa week at the ritzy Miraval resort in Tucson. I have to say it was way better than anything I would’ve planned.