Family Ties (Morelli Family 4)

This amuses her. “Oh, I need to, do I?”

I nod confidently. “You do.”

“And why is that?”

“Because you’re attracted to me, I’m attracted to you, and you already told me you didn’t have plans tonight.”

Nodding, she taps her chin with her index finger, as if she’s pondering this. “That is true. Of course, you told me your name was Tony… and it turns out that’s not true.”

The charming smile falls right off my face.

Her eyebrows rise, unimpressed.

“Adrian?” I ask.

Nodding, she verifies, “Adrian.”

“Goddammit, Adrian,” I mutter, even though it’s not like he can hear me.

“Yeah, so, that’s awkward,” she says, walking over to stand right next to me, then hip-bumping me out of her way so she can open the door. “Anyway, you probably shouldn’t come buy my cupcakes anymore.”

“What if I still want your cupcakes?” I ask, even though I know she’s right.

“Well, Tony, I think you should find a bakery in your own neighborhood to shop at.”

I catch the door once she has it open, not letting her get in and close it like she seems prone to do. “My name really is Antonio. My first name. I go by Salvatore because it’s my dad’s name, too, but… it wasn’t technically a lie.”

Putting a hand on her hip, full of attitude, she gives me a look like she can’t believe I’m even trying that. “Oh, come on.”

“It is.”

“Well, Antonio in front of it or not, you’re still Salvatore Castellanos, right?”

“Women don’t usually say that like it’s a bad thing,” I tell her, since she certainly did.

“Then go out with one of those women,” she advises me, dropping into her seat and tugging the door.

I keep holding it, not letting her shut it. “I already tried that. I left her and ended up driving by your bakery, so I wouldn’t say it was a successful endeavor. Any better suggestions?”

Her jaw drops open, those big brown eyes going so wide, I think she might get out and slap the shit out of me. Then she frowns and laughs a little. “Wow. Yeah, actually. Maybe next time you’re trying to convince a girl to grab a drink with you, don’t lead with that.” She pulls the door again.

I hold it again. “I led with that because it was the truth,” I state. “Your brother’s a liar; I thought you’d probably respect the truth.”

Smiling again like she can’t believe me, she says, “My brother would also be honest if he thought it would net him the results he wanted—much like you just admitted to doing.”

Well, shit.

Honesty is hard.

“I didn’t go home with her. I didn’t even kiss her. I found myself thinking about you and your… cupcakes,” I say, letting my gaze drift to her lips.

“My cupcakes are off the menu,” she informs me.

“You seemed attracted to me earlier.”

“I was,” she states, not even lying about it. “And then I found out who you were. Men like you do nothing for me. Sorry. Now, kindly let go of my door before I call Adrian and tell him you’re harassing me.”

“That would be really mean,” I tell her.

“Morellis have a tendency to be mean,” she informs me.

“I don’t buy it. You were sweet earlier.”

“Do I seem sweet now?” she asks, sweetly.

I can’t help grinning. “Yes.”

Francesca rolls her eyes at me. “Let go of the door, Castellanos.”

“Meet me for a drink.”

“No, thanks.”

“Give me a good reason.”

That startles a little laugh out of her. “Just one? How could I ever choose from the literally endless list?”

“Top one,” I say, leaning against the door, turning up the warmth in my smile.

“Where could this possibly go?” she asks, simply. “What in the world could we possibly have with each other?”

“Orgasms,” I reply, easily.

Francesca laughs again, shaking her head. “I can have one of those without the headache you’ll give me.”

Groaning, I close my eyes and picture it. “I’m very doubtful. I won’t believe you until you show me.”

She’s grinning, but I haven’t changed her mind. “Goodbye, Tony or Salvatore or whatever your name is.”

“If you don’t meet me for a drink, I’m coming back tomorrow.”

I don’t know why. I didn’t even know for sure if I’d fuck her when I pulled in here a couple of minutes ago, but I didn’t expect her to give chase like this.

I am not bored.

“You can’t come back,” she tells me. “Mateo wouldn’t take kindly to you hanging around.”

“Then I guess you should agree to meet me, that way I won’t have to.”

Francesca tugs the door again.

I merely quirk an eyebrow. “Agree to meet me for a drink or call Adrian. Those are the only two options for us ever leaving this parking lot.”

“You’re relentless,” she states.

“I’m good at what I do,” I tell her, smirking.

“Okay, fine. You’ve convinced me.” Francesca nods, pulling the door closed.

Excitement courses through me, I can’t even explain it. It’s not often I have to chase after what I want, and the victory is sweet. “We could take my car,” I point out.