The Sweetest Oblivion (Made 1)

“Well . . . no. I kind of threatened him and told him I would go dancing upstairs if he didn’t tell me what I wanted to know.”

“And what did you want to know?”

I swallowed. “Where you were tonight.”

“I thought my business would be the last thing on earth to interest you,” he said in an amused drawl.

“Some of your business has become personal.”

His words were tinged with sarcasm, yet so quiet I barely heard them. “Don’t I know it.”

I wasn’t sure what he meant, but I didn’t wonder about it anymore when he said, “He’s alive, just like I told you he’d be. Your famiglia is taking him into the fold right now.”

I cringed. “He’ll live?”

“He’ll live.”

I let out a deep breath of relief and let my head fall against the back of the couch.

“Thank you,” I said softly.

“I think we both know I hardly did it to be charitable.”

My cheeks flushed as I remembered our bargain. He’d yet to cash in on that. It made me believe he didn’t want to. Or maybe he didn’t want me to know how charitable he could really be . . .

Nico had some emails to reply to, so while waiting I used my phone to look at wedding table arrangements on my mamma’s party planner’s website. Out of the options in stock, I narrowed it down to a short round vase with studded pearls around the edges, and a simple one that would sit on a piece of glass.

I sent the pictures to Mamma only to receive a text that said: They both look like something you’d find at one of those Goodwills.

The vases were simple and classic and me.

My mamma was loud, proud, and would want her wedding tables to show it. Which was exactly why I didn’t want to use what was already purchased for Adriana—my mother being the buyer. I tilted my head and regarded them once more, but still couldn’t decide.

Nico had been on the phone for a short time, and I could grow used to his deep timbre in the background, no matter if he was discussing “product,” which I was sure was what killed his mother.

Now, he was quiet as he responded to an email, or possibly wrote a report on the next man’s life he was going to ruin. I was going to marry this man. I’d never believed I was a woman who needed attention, but at that moment, I wanted his. Undivided, and as thrilling as it always was.

Nerves played beneath my skin, but I got to my feet and walked around his desk until I stood beside him. He flicked a gaze to me and then leaned back in his chair.

“I can’t decide on a centerpiece for the tables,” I told him.

“Show me.”

Instead of taking the phone from my hand, he pulled me onto his lap. My heart raced from the shock of it. His arm was firm around my waist, yet it felt like it was burning me more than balancing me. I steadied myself with a hand on his shoulder. He was so big and warm and hard. I pretended this position didn’t affect me at all, but in reality, it took me a moment to remember why I’d come over here.

I turned my head to look at him. My breath shallowed when I realized his lips were only inches from my own. His gaze was warm, seeing deeper beneath my skin with each second.

With his body pressed against mine, warming me from the inside out, the pull to lean in was a physical thing. A heavy tug, as if he were my center of gravity. I could taste his breath and feel his strong heartbeat.

I could jump the gap, just as I’d done in a rain drizzled car once before.

How easy it would be: to bury my fingers in his hair, to run my hand along his jawline, to meet my mouth with his.

I knew it would be the best kiss I’d ever had.

So I only showed him the vases instead.

“Simplicity is the ultimate sophistication.”