Triplets Make Five - Page 107

Her fruity red mouth covered mine. “I don’t like waking up alone.”

I twisted around to squirm into her arms. She smelled and tasted so much better now than she did last night. I had to get my mind working if I didn’t want to spend the rest of the day in bed with her. I could spend the rest of my life in bed with her. I shook my head slightly. What the hell was I thinking? This was just business. Wasn’t it?

My phone buzzed again. I didn’t have to look at it to know who it was. I dragged myself out of her embrace. Her hair tossed all over her face and the pillow. “Where are you going? Stay here with me.”

“Soon.” I gave her a quick kiss and tore myself out of her arms. “I had Antonio make you breakfast. I’ll bring it to you in bed.”

“You didn’t have to do that. It’s too much.”

I climbed out of bed. “I want to. Stay put.”

I scooted out to the kitchen and came back with her tray. I would show her what too much was. Too much was having her in my bed. How could I ever stand the anticipation of waiting for her to eat so I could work her into a screaming frenzy again?

I backed through the door. “Here you go.” I almost dropped the tray when I found her sitting up in bed. She stared at her phone in her hand. Her eyebrows turned up in the middle, and she looked as though she were on the verge of tears. “Oh, no!”

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s my mother!” She turned the phone around to show me the screen. “Look at this! The pictures from yesterday are all over the morning papers. What if my parents see this? I had hoped that I would be able to tell them about it myself. Not have them find out from the news. What am I going to do? I was stupid to think that I could tell them before it hit the news.”

I stared at the phone screen. All the amazing pictures from yesterday, me bending her backward to kiss her, us walking hand in hand with the sun glimmering through the leaves, our hands entwined with our rings shining against our fingers—all of it spread across the tabloids. Big headlines announced, Mystery Girl Nabs President’s Bad Brother.

Was that me they were talking about? Was I the Bad Boy in question? I always considered stuff like that a compliment. Now it made me cringe. I couldn’t be a bad boy and married to her at the same time.

Mystery girl, huh? The press would love that. It did her justice, and the pictures made her look more mysterious than ever behind her gauzy veil. Her inner radiance shone for all the world to see. Anybody could see why I supposedly adored her.

I set the tray on the bedside table and climbed onto the bed next to her. I put my arm around her shoulder. “It’s going to be okay. Maybe they won’t see it.”

At that moment, her phone rang. Jumpy music came out of it. She swiped her thumb over the screen and pressed it to her ear. “Mama!”

I lounged back on the pillows and listened to her babbling away in Italian. The longer she talked, the more agitated she got. I rubbed her back and neck, but she got more tense with every passing minute. Her voice rose to a strained squeak.

In between talking to her mother, Gabi looked around the bedroom. She took deep breaths and sniffed. She ran her fingers through her hair. She did everything but relax. This was ten times worse than my conversation with my own mother. This was bad. I did this to her. I created this situation and used my rotten money to get her into a position she couldn’t get out of. What if I ruined relations with her family? She would never forgive me. How could I make it up to her?

I knew enough Italians to know how they felt about family. She lived her whole life in the neighborhood where she grew up. Her family probably still lived there, too. I was the outsider. I was the stranger. They didn’t care how much money I had. If I hurt their little girl, they would never accept me.

The awful truth hit me like a ton of bricks. I wanted them to accept me. I wanted to be the one she cared enough to introduce to her family. I wanted them to think this was the real thing because I wanted it to be the real thing.

Oh shit. I was in deep.

She gave one last sniff and croaked. “Okay, Mama. Ciao.”

She hung up, and the phone dropped out of her hand. The feathery softness of comforters swallowed it up. Gabi covered her face with her hands and burst into tears. Those quaking sobs cut my guts to ribbons. I couldn’t watch this. I had to do something.

I laid both hands on her shoulders, and she collapsed weeping on my chest. I held her in my arms and kissed her hair. Nothing mattered so much as this moment. I would give anything to make it right.

She heaved and moaned. “This can’t be happening. I can’t do this. I have to get out of this somehow.”

I shushed against her ear. “Shh. It’s all right. It’s going to be all right.”

“It’s not all right!” She leapt upright and shoved me away. “I never should have married you! This was all a huge mistake.” Then she fell forward in an emotional heap.

“I never wanted any of this to happen,” she wailed. “I was so desperate for a job, that I didn’t really think through how my family would react to all of this. Do you know what this means to them? Do you understand how upset they are?”

I cuddled my arms around her shoulders. I snuggled down into the bed and let her cry herself out. I brushed her dark hair out of her face. My chest gave her a place to rest her tearful head. I wanted to take care of her. I wanted to make this right. I would always be here for whatever she needed.

She was worth it.

8

Tags: Nicole Elliot Romance
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