Page 227 of Salvatore

I cup her cheek, fucking frothing over her violence as I graze my thumb across her soft skin. “I promise to spend the rest of my life making sure you’re as far away from what he envisaged as humanly possible, no matter how long or short that time might be.”

Her eyes soften as she leans into my touch. “I believe you… I wish I didn’t, but I do.”

“Then believe this, too—I’m not a jealous guy, but if any man flirts with you, I will run them over with my car.”

She chuckles, and fuck, it’s mesmerizing. The seven wonders of the world ain’t got shit on this woman’s beauty.

“But what if I’m a flirty type of girl?” She bats her lashes.

I steal another kiss. “Then you either learn to curb the urge, or get used to my efficiency in creating man-made speed bumps.”

She smiles against my lips. “I don’t want to flirt with anyone but you.”

“Good. I hope you endeavor to keep it that way for the sake of mankind.”

We fall into a silent state of being. Teasing kisses. Gentle touches. Until I’m tempted to drag her onto my mangled body and give us both some relief.

“I think your family have had enough of us making out.” She groans. “I should let them in.”

“No, thanks.” I grab her wrist as she attempts to retreat. “You know they’ve never held anything other than contempt for me. They can wait until after you’ve given me a much-needed sponge bath.”

She snickers. “Sponge baths are Nurse Darren’s job, and he enjoys them way too much for me to take them away from him. And besides, the strained relationship with your siblings stemmed from the persona you felt forced to adopt under your parents’ manipulation. It’s about time you worked on reclaiming what they stole from you.”

“We can work on it later.” I cling tighter to her wrist, but she slips from my weakened fingers.

“I know you’re a brutal man, Salvatore, but how can you look at those pleading faces and make them wait?”

I follow her gaze, finding Abri standing mere inches from my hospital door window, Matthew hovering behind her left shoulder while Remy stares at us over the top of Olivia’s head, all of them watching us.

Ivy turns back to me. “They feel guilty and have been worried sick about losing you. They only leave the hospital to shower and sleep. They even organized to have men guard every entrance of the hospital to ensure you were safe.”

“That’s protocol.”

“No.” She retreats another step. “That’s love.” She walks for the door before I can think of another excuse to stop her.

“Ivy, wait.”

She pauses, glancing over her shoulder at me, her fingers reaching for the door handle.

“We’re not done talking.”

Her smile is soft and slow to form, a hint of vulnerability shining through. “We have the rest of our lives to talk. But right now, they need to hear that you’re okay.”

She pulls the door wide, and my siblings, along with their significant others’, flood the room, asking questions, offering food, plumping my pillows, and straightening my sheets.

I don’t drag my attention away from Ivy—from my future wife and the mother of my child—as my family annoy the ever-loving fuck out of me.

“Talk,” she mouths, a command wrapped in affection, urging me to let my family back in after years of pushing them away.

I drag in a deep breath, not ready, not willing. But I’d do fucking anything to make her happy.

I turn my attention to my siblings, forcing the words out. “So, is someone going to give me an update on where we’re at?”

Matthew pulls up a chair and sits by my bedside. “Well, your townhouse is tinder.”

“And so is the chapel at the funeral home,” Olivia laments as Remy drags her in for a side hug.

“But the working part of the building is still intact, which is where Lorenzo has been taken,” Bishop adds. “His sons arrived yesterday and took over the funeral arrangements.”

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