Page 29 of The Sting of Love
I ignore it and lean onto the bed, crooking my finger toward her so she comes to me. She does, and we kiss.
I have a really bad idea. It’s such a damn bad idea, but I’m going to do it anyway. I pull away from her lips and get lost in her blue gaze.
“Come to my place later,” I say. I sound crazy.
Willow’s eyes widen. “Your place? Donny…”
“My place, Bella Bellissima.”
“Did you just call me beautiful gorgeous?” She grins.
“I did, doll. Come to my place for dinner. Pack a bag and stay the rest of the week with me.” There. I spoke the rest of the craziness on my mind, and her eyes light up.
“What?”
“You heard me.” I bend down, grab my boxers, and shrug into them. I find the rest of my clothes and get dressed quickly.
She looks me over with surprise, her lips parted. “Really Donny?”
“Do you want to?” I ask to be sure. I know she does, but there’s no fault in checking.
“Yes,” she answers without any hesitation.
“Good girl. Then I’ll see you later at eight.”
“Eight?”
I nod and go back to her lips for another kiss. One for the road.
“Oh my God…” she breathes against my lips.
“Yeah. Oh my God.”
She’s right to call on the Lord. Only he can help me now.
“See you later,” I tell her and head out. The last thing I want is questions from her aunt. Worry is on my mind as I leave. I worry over what I’m going to do with this doll I can’t get out of my head. I brought this on myself. She’s coming to my place later, and I asked her to stay the week. Maybe I have lost my mind. She’s just the first woman to excite me this way in a long time.
* * *
Thank fuck there was no real emergency.
Alex messaged to check in last night, letting me know the others are here now. Dante and Gio have arrived, and they’re all in Calabria. It’s the first time that we’ve all been in Italy together.
Gibbs messaged this morning to let me know there was no update on Mario. That pissed me off because the fact that we can’t find him means he has help. Somebody’s watching his back, and it’s not any old someone either.
Since I had a break for a few hours, I thought I’d go see my father, so I headed north to my family home.
This is the house we got after my mother was killed. It’s a little bigger. It was big enough to home myself and my two sisters as we all got older.
Pa is outside in the yard with one of the groundmen. I can see him as I approach. I can just bet he’s giving some instruction over the vineyard. He loves that vineyard the same as he loves his kids.
He looks my way, and his face brightens when I pull the bike to a stop. We haven’t seen each other in months, but that’s the usual. Normally, I don’t see him unless I’m here visiting, or when he goes to Chicago to see me.
His smile widens when I walk up to him. I’m the spitting image of my father. Same face, same height, and same built. Looking at him is like looking at an older version of myself.
Pa hugs me hard showing how much he missed me. He’s the only guy I allow to do that. Everyone else gets a handshake. The hug is an unspoken action of affection we’ve shared between us since I was a boy.
He looks proud of me. He always looks like that, but today it’s more, and I know it’s because I’m doing what I’m doing with the business.
