I was reaching for the concealed zipper on the side of my dress when I caught sight of my reflection in the mirrored closet doors. I paused, really taking a good hard look at myself.
Was Jax attracted to the polished businesswoman I’d become in a way he hadn’t been to the girl I was before? Was I okay with that?
“God.” I sat on the edge of my bed, wishing someone were awake that I could talk to. If Nico had been around, he’d be up. He was a night owl.
Impulsively, I reached for the phone on my nightstand and speed-dialed him. It rang three times before he answered.
“Hey,” he said. “This better be good.”
I winced at his irritated and slightly breathless tone, suspecting I’d interrupted him when he had someone staying over. “Nico, hi. Sorry. I’ll call back tomorrow.”
“Gianna.” He exhaled roughly and I heard rustling. “What’s up?”
“Nothing. We’ll chat tomorrow. Bye.”
“Don’t hang up on me!” he snapped. “You wanted me, you got me. Spill it.”
I hung up, figuring the sooner I let him go, the sooner he’d get back to whatever he’d been doing.
A half second later, the phone started ringing. I answered quickly, hoping it didn’t wake up the rest of the house. “Nico, come on. It’s not a big deal. I’m sorry I bugged you so late.”
“Gianna, if you don’t start talking, I’m heading up there to kick your ass. Is this about Jackson?”
I sighed. I should have known he would’ve heard the news from someone. “I’ve got a free weekend. I thought maybe I could come visit. Give you a hard time. Harass you a little. Or a lot.”
“Now?”
Actually, I’d been thinking about it, but... “No, tomorrow.”
“Bullshit. You don’t call after two in the morning to say you want to stop by tomorrow.”
“You’re busy.”
“By the time you get here, I won’t be.” His voice softened. “You got a safe ride down?”
“Nico—”
“I’ll call a service, have a car pick you up.”
I closed my eyes, grateful for him and more certain than ever that hanging with him would do me a world of good. It’d been a few weeks since I’d seen him. Too long. “I need to shower and change.”
“Thirty minutes. I’ll see you when you get here.” He hung up.
Setting the handset back into its cradle, I hurried to get ready.
* * *
IT WAS CREEPING past four in the morning when I arrived at Nico’s apartment complex. He’d called a few minutes before to check where I was and was standing on the sidewalk waiting for me when I pulled up. Dressed in sweats with a shadow of stubble on his jaw, he looked a bit dangerous in that bad-boy way so many women gravitated toward.
God knew Jax’s alpha-male qualities could put me into heat.
“Hey,” he said, taking my duffel bag from the driver and handing over cash. He slung his arm around my shoulder and led me toward his place. “It’s good to see you.”
“No, it’s not.” I bumped my hip into his and made us both stumble. “Sorry to crash your night.”
“I got mine.” He grinned. “She got hers, too, so it’s all good.”
“Gross. TMI.” He was such a player. Always had been. “Is she anyone special?”
“Not in a serious way. Got no time for a relationship now. My hands are full with Rossi’s Two.”
He released me to unlock the lobby door, then led me through to the interior courtyard. I’d been to his apartment complex before to help him move in, but it felt different at night. Too quiet and unfamiliar. I wondered if he got lonely without the rest of us. It made me sad to think of it.
“I wish you had someone to take care of you,” I said.
“You first,” he retorted, deftly bringing it back to me. He was good at that.
We climbed exterior steps to his apartment. Once inside, I saw that he hadn’t done much more to it since he’d moved in. It was a typical bachelor pad—sparse on decoration and laid out for comfort rather than aesthetics.
A large flat-screen TV dominated the living room, which had a black leather couch and love seat, coffee table and one end table with an open soda can on it. Light spilled into the otherwise darkened room from the open-plan kitchen and ajar bedroom door, trying valiantly to compensate for the lack of table and floor lamps.
“So, Jax is back,” he said, watching me as I dropped onto the couch. “Vincent owes me a hundred bucks.”
“Are you kidding?” I would’ve thrown a sofa pillow at him if he’d had any. “You bet on Jax?”
“Bet on you.” He sat on the love seat, setting my duffel on the floor at his feet. “He was gonzo over you, which meant he was either going to put a ring on you or run scared. I figured he’d run, then come back around once the fear wore off. He’s a guy, but he’s a smart one. Question is, is he too late? I’m guessing no or you wouldn’t be here.”
“Maybe I just wanted to see you,” I argued. “God knows why.”
“Maybe,” he said in a tone that told me he’d believe it when hell froze over and pigs flew. “You still love him?”
My head fell back against the sofa, and I closed my tired eyes. “Yeah. Damn it.”
“And him? Where’s he coming from?”
“He’s confused.”
“Should I smack him around some? Knock some sense into him?”
I laughed softly. “God, I miss you.”
* * *
WE SLEPT PAST NOON, went out to eat, then sat on the couch and played video games until my thumbs ached from using the controller. I left my smartphone in my purse, powered off and squashed any impulse to check it. I’d left a note for Angelo and Vincent about where I’d be. With Lei off the grid for the weekend, there was no one else who needed to reach me before Monday.
When it came time for Nico to head into Rossi’s, I got up off the couch with him.
“Need an extra set of Rossi hands?” I asked.
He grinned. “Sure. I have an extra T-shirt around here somewhere.”
By seven, I found myself helping out at Rossi’s and remembering how much I loved the hands-on part of the business. I couldn’t do it long-term, like my brothers, but I was reminded that helping out every now and then was good for my soul. Dressed in jeans and a black Rossi’s T-shirt with my hair pulled back in a ponytail, I could almost believe I was back in high school. I didn’t know any of the customers coming in, but they quickly picked up on my relationship with Nico, due in large part to the playful ribbing we indulged in.
Crossing my arms on the bar, I leaned over and teased, “Where’s my Bellini order? Pick it up, Rossi. You’re laggin’. I’m waitin’.”
“Ya hear that
?” he asked the pretty redhead sitting in front of him. “She’s rushing greatness.”
I felt a charge that raised the hairs on my nape an instant before I felt a hand on my hip. I turned my head...
And saw Jax.
Blinking, I stared, drinking in the sight of him in jeans and a Rossi’s T-shirt from way back, before we updated the logo. It twisted me up a little to see that he’d kept the gift. And worn it some, judging by how broken in it was.
“Jax. What are you doing here?”
“What do you think?” He smiled.
Damn it. His dimple threw me for a loop.
I turned to face him, leaning back on the bar with my elbows and hitching my shoe onto the brass foot rail. It was a deliberately provocative pose and got me the response I’d been hoping for.
His dark eyes swept me from head to toe and back again, coming to rest on my mouth. “Have dinner with me.”
“Okay.”
His brows rose at my quick reply.
“Order up,” Nico said behind me.
I turned back to him just in time to see him acknowledge Jax with a jerk of his chin and a handshake.
“Jackson,” my brother greeted him. “I was just talking to Gianna about kicking your ass.”
Jax grinned. “Good to see you, too, man.”
Nico wagged a finger at him and moved back down the bar.
As I transferred the three Bellinis onto my tray, I felt Jax’s hands come to rest lightly on my hips, an unmistakably proprietary move. His lips touched my nape, brushing softly. “I missed you,” he murmured.
My hand shook slightly as I set the last tall, slender glass down. “Don’t fuck with me, Jax. It’s not cool.”
“You missed me, too.”
“Yeah, I did. Back up.” I lifted the tray and headed toward the table awaiting the order. “Come on,” I told him over my shoulder.
I dropped the drinks off, smiling at the party of three women who were clearly out on a girls’ night. They eyed Jax, who leaned against the end of a booth with his arms crossed, his gaze on me as I leaned forward to serve.
“You training him?” the brunette asked, grinning at Jax.
“Tried to,” I quipped. “Failed miserably.”