Page 12 of Better Left Unsaid

“No, it’s not like that.” I swatted his hand away. “And, again, not yours for the taking,” I said, this time giving him a pointed look before heading over to the sink and placing the empty glass in it.

“Fine.” He narrowed his eyes and gave me a look like he was pacifying me. “So, what’s with the lunch for her?”

Looking up, I sighed. “I’m going into the city, so I figured I’d bring Maria lunch from her favorite deli.”

“What’s in the city?” he asked, looking like he was holding back on saying more. His lips twitched, and his brows raised, intrigue coloring his expression.

Let’s be honest, it didn’t take much for him to become intrigued. Anything that had to do with Maria and catching me in some nefarious act with her was a highlight for him—and my family on a whole, but we were just talking about Marco right now. His brows waggled slightly, and I couldn’t help but roll my eyes at how expressive he was. Frankly, it was one of his fatal flaws because it gave him away every time.

“Central Park,” I answered as blandly as possible.

“No shit.”

I exhaled. Clearly, I wasn’t going to get away with not elaborating. “I’m spending the day with Isabella and figured we could go to the park.”

He narrowed his eyes. “No school?”

“Not today,” I answered and crossed my arms. “So why are you here again?”

“We’ll get to that, but first tell me, where are your balls?”

I rolled my eyes and clenched my hands on either side of me on the counter. I knew what this was all about—the same thing it was always about. “It’s a friendly gesture.” No other explanation was needed. Friends did things for friends all the time. I did something for Maria, though, and it was likealert the presses. No, it was more likedo we hear wedding bells?

“Sure, sure,” he replied, snickering as though he was in on some big secret. He wasn’t, by the way. He was just my ridiculously arrogant kid brother. He sat on one of the barstools, placed a hand under his chin, and batted his lashes like a pretty girl. His voice even went high-pitched and feminine as he said, “Oh, Dom.”

I flipped him the bird. “You’re an idiot.”

“You, big bro, might be the only idiot around,” he said, growing serious. “Come on, you’re not fooling anyone. Deny it all you want, but you love her. You always fucking have. You’re as subtle as a sledgehammer.”

I brushed him off, not interested in hearing him give me shit. I placed my forefinger to my thumb and moved my wrist. “Hey, didn’t Dad ever teach you not to stick your nose where it doesn’t belong?”

“Yeah, he told me it’d get brown if I put it up someone’s ass.”Wise guy.“What the hell is the matter with you anyway? When are you going to grow a pair and tell Maria you love her? You waiting for her to meet someone? Because she will.”

How profound. Wow, thank you, Marco. I had no idea she was a catch and would eventually meet someone. They’d fall in love, get married, have kids, and I’d be out. In more ways than one.

Damn Marco and his idiot babble. Why in the world was I listening to him again? Yeah, no clue. “What is with you ribbing me about this?” I finally questioned, cocking a brow.

“Ribbing you?” He furrowed his brows and gave me a disgusted look, his hand on his chin. “What are you, like, seventy? Who says that shit?”

I ran a hand down my face and blew outward. “Is there a reason you stopped by, or is it just my lucky day that I got a visit from my knucklehead brother?”

He harrumphed and got up, strumming his fingers on the counter before knocking on it. Then he started walking backward to the front door.Leaving so soon?“No real reason. Except I need you to get me on the VIP list of one of those fancy schmancy fashion shows you work.”

And there it was—the reason he stopped by. I cocked a brow and crossed my arms, nudging my chin toward him as I leaned against the stove. “Who’s the woman?”

“Does there have to be a chick involved for me to ask you a favor?”

“Yes,” I replied, perhaps a little too fast. “You know, one of these days you’re going to have to grow up.”

He shrugged and moved his head back and forth as though he was considering my words. That would be a first. “My age is sort of the problem, so I wouldn’t be opposed to growing up faster.”

I scratched my chin. “What does that mean?”

“It means I need you to do this favor for me and not ask questions, okay?”

“Fine. Consider it done. I’ll text you the details.”

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