Page 25 of Useless Love

I pause for a second from how forcefully he spoke; maybe he’s simply surprised I actually called. Sounding unsure, I finally respond, “Nothing.”

“Oh. Well, you’ve never called or texted me like this, so I thought something was up."

“You said we would talk today, so um…”

He exhales. “I’m actually glad you called.” His voice is gruff like something is on his mind, but he’s trying to sound casual. “Work is a pain and I’d rather not do it now. What are you doing?”

“I was working on homework, but I’m going to take a break and go to Saint Mary’s to volunteer for a bit.” He doesn’t respond, and the silence goes on too long, so I ask, “Um, do you want to come?”

“Shit. Church is a place I never want to go, but since you’re asking, I can swing by.”

The fact that he agreed to go gives me some hope.

We end the phone call after agreeing on a time to meet. Then I grab some old clothes—since I’ll be getting them dirty with work—and head out.

I arrive at Saint Mary’s and my guard waits outside like he normally does. After going inside and saying hi to the regulars, I try to focus on my volunteer work and not feel too anxious about seeing Carmine. I grab a small box and stack it on some others near the door to the room I’m in. The old storage room, which St. Mary’s plans to turn into a teen lounge, is dusty and needs lots of large items carried out to the dumpster we rented. That’s why I figured Carmine would be a lot of help. He’s strong and muscular, so he must lift weights; nobody is born with arms like that.

I grab another small box, getting lost for a moment, thinking about the firm swell of his biceps and the corded veins running up his forearms. In my dreams, he often pulls me close with those arms, and I run my fingers over the strong peaks and valleys of his muscles.

When Carmine arrives in his beautiful navy blue well-fitted suit, I’m already feeling a little flustered, but I did that to myself, getting lost in too many fantasies. When he stops next to me and gives me a frown, I realize that I didn’t explain to him what task he would be helping with.

His frown deepens. “I was asking for you out there, and they all looked at me weird.”

“They don’t know my first name,” I say. “My twin sister and I are often here together. They call me princess, and my sister is ‘The Other One.’” Which is only a partial lie.

He smirks. “Sounds like they don’t like her.” He surveys the storage room, his piercing eyes scrutinizing everything. “Anyways, what can I do to help you? Do you need a donation or something?”

“Well, we need help cleaning, painting, and unpacking new furniture.” His eyes search my face for a moment as he tries to determine if I’m being serious.

He’s back to frowning, but it doesn’t make him look any less handsome. The guy oozes sex appeal no matter what he’s doing. “You brought me here to paint and clean? I can just pay someone to fucking do that.”

I stand my ground, squaring my shoulders. “Language, Carmine. You’re in a church, remember?”

He just frowns at me some more.

“It's better to do it ourselves,” I continued, passing him a wet rag. When I get no reaction, I ask, “What did you think I meant when I said ‘volunteering’? And what was that you said about Gaudino honor a month ago?”

He sighs as if my perfect memory is an annoyance. When his frown turns into a smirk, and his eyes glint with a look that kind of makes me melt, I try to pass him the cloth again.

As he reaches for it, he grabs my wrist, pulling me closer. He lowers his voice and asks, “Don’t you think it’s a crime to ruin this suit with paint?”

I blinked at him innocently. “You can take it off.”

His eyes widen like he wasn’t expecting me to say something so suggestive. And I’m back to feeling flustered. What kind of woman am I turning into?

I step away to create distance and clarify, “N-N-No. I meant there are clothes here, at the church. We give them to the needy. Not that you can’t paint naked. I mean, you can’t do that here. But…” I shut my mouth. Why did I add that last part?

His eyes are back to looking mischievous. “Let's make a deal,” he says in a low rumble.

Carmine’s devious smile makes my body tense. But the boring, plain girl inside me, who longs to experience adventure and passion—to fully live—speaks up. “Um...what kind of deal?”

He twirls the rag in his hands. “Breakfast. My mother wants to meet you. She’s been asking about you. If I help you today, you have to come over in the morning.”

I can’t say I don’t feel disappointed about his request, since I was hoping for something more...scandalous, but I give him a slight smile. I shouldn’t be thinking such lustful thoughts anyway. I have to stay a virgin until marriage, for whoever my future husband will be.

Remember…Carmine is Arianna’s, not yours.

“That’s all?” I say. “Sure, I’ll meet your mother.” I glance at some boxes, trying to get my mind out of the gutter. My imagination has been a bit too colorful lately—not like me at all. Maybe since I’m pretending to be Arianna, I’m starting to turn into her. She has always been more open with sex than I have. I’ve never even touched myself.

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