Page 100 of Of Vows and Betrayal

I stop in the hall, checking my reflection once more before rolling my eyes.

When I walk into the main room, I almost choke on my saliva. Javier, his hair rumpled with sleep, is wearing a ‘bee happy’ apron, sleeping shorts, and nothing more. He’s leaving nothing to the imagination, and I can’t help but ogle his wide, muscular shoulders, his strong legs, and his round ass that I know is as hard as it looks.

“Hi.” Oh god, why is my voice all loud and squeaky?

His smirk widens as he catches me staring, his eyes twinkling with amusement. He leisurely adjusts the apron, his every movement deliberate, aware of my gaze and clearly enjoying my flustered reaction.

“Good morning.” Javier’s lips curl into a teasing smile as he offers me a steaming mug. “Coffee?”

“Yes, please.” My eyes dart to his face, then back down as I fail to keep my gaze steady.

I walk over to the counter and take the mug he offers, our fingers brushing. The contact sends a jolt through me, and I quickly pull my hand back, almost spilling the coffee.

“I thought you might want some breakfast,” he says, turning back to the stove. “Figured I’d make something to start the day right.”

I take a cautious sip of the coffee, the warmth spreading through me. “Thank you, this is perfect. You didn’t have to.”

“I wanted to,” he says, glancing at me over his shoulder. “Besides, I needed to talk to you about last night.”

My heart skips a beat, and I set the mug down, suddenlyfeeling very nervous. “About that?—”

“No,” he interrupts gently. “Let me start. I know we said we’d take it slow, and I don’t want you to feel pressured. But I don’t regret the kiss. I don’t regret anything about it.”

I feel a weight lift off my shoulders at his words. I meet his gaze, my voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t regret it either.”

“Great.” He opens a bag from the fancy French bakery down the road, which I know for a fact doesn’t deliver, but I suspect for him they do, and he sets a lovely buttery croissant on a plate, giving it to me. “Feel free to do it whenever you feel like though. My lips are yours for the taking.”

I can’t help but smile like an idiot before biting into the buttery goodness and moaning, my eyes closing.

When I open them, Javier is looking at me, his mouth hanging open and his pupils dilated as he’s holding the counter tightly.

“Don’t make noises like that when I’m trying to be good,” he lets out with a gravelly voice. “And thank the heavens I’m wearing an apron.”

“Should I?” I blurt out, blushing. “Plans today?” I ask, eager to change the subject.

Javier clears his throat, his grip on the counter loosening. “Yes, I need to brief the team on the European board meetings. But how about dinner tonight?”

“Not tonight. I have my online class. When you left, I started taking a business class online—for the store, you know.”

“Oh, that’s amazing! I love that.”

My heart squeezes in my chest. This is a reaction socompletely opposite to what the Gambinos would say. They would tell me there’s no point and that it’s a waste of time. But the way his face lit up—he can’t fake that, and he’s genuinely happy and proud of me.

I look at my watch. “You don’t mind me taking one of your cars, right?” I took one this week because Derek told me I could, but now he’s back.

“Of course. What’s mine is yours.” He heads toward the bedrooms, pausing to brush a kiss on my forehead. “I’ll go shower. Have a good day.”

I watch his back muscles move as he walks away, keeping my eyes on him long after he disappears.

Finally, I shake my head to clear my thoughts. There’s work to be done, and I need to stay focused. I finish the croissant in two bites, grab my bag, and head to the garage. The sleek black car I’ve grown fond of over the past week awaits, a symbol of my new life.

As I drive, I reflect on how much I love the routine of the shop. It revives memories of my mother, making me feel like a part of her is still alive. With the funds Javier secured, I can finally start some of the projects we discussed. The thought fills me with a sense of purpose and connection.

I’m arranging a bouquet when the bell above the door jingles. I turn with a welcoming smile, but it vanishes the moment I see Fabrizio standing there, his eyes scanning the store with a predatory gleam. Grief twists my heart, quickly giving way to a hint of fear. My hand trembles as I discreetly press the call button on my phone, slipping it into my apron pocket. The weight of the phone feels like a lifeline in there.

“Fabrizio, hi.” I muster a smile, trying to hide the uneasebubbling inside me.

“Well, your father’s death turned out to be alright for you after all.”

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