Page 77 of Her Guardian
“I don’t break what is mine,” he assures me, taking my hand in his.
“Oh, so your doors are safe?” I laugh, holding his hand as we walk toward the exit. “It’s other people who have to be worried about their doors. Beds. Steps. Tables…”
“You know what the fuck I mean,” he snaps back, but there’s a smirk on his face.
When we step outside, it isn’t Boyd’s SUV waiting on us. It’s a limousine. The driver nods and opens the back door. I suck in a breath and Boyd leads me to it, then helps me climb inside. I expect the slap that lands on my ass when I give him full access to it. It’s gentler than some of them have been.
“Wow,” I say once he’s seated beside me. “You went all out.”
“Nothing but the best for you,” he smiles. “It’s what you deserve. Now get your ass over here so I can smear that lipstick a little before we get to the restaurant.”
Boyd pulls me closer and his lips crash into mine. The kiss takes my breath away and makes my head spin as the limousine pulls away from the curb. Just when I think he’s about to pull away, his hand wraps around the back of my neck and he kisses me even deeper. I melt into his arms and our bodies press together. Heat radiates from my core. When our lips finally part, I gasp for my next breath.
“Aren’t you supposed to wait until the end of the date to kiss me?” I ask, my eyes still closed, my lips still tingling, my core still radiating warmth.
“Skipping ahead,” he murmurs, tracing my lips before finally pulling away.
“Don’t skip ahead too far,” I say, shaking my head as I recover from the intensity of the kiss. “You said we going to get to know each other a little better tonight. And I’m a true crime podcaster, so don’t expect any easy questions.”
“Ask away,” he says.
Boyd has told me a few things about himself. His mother wasn’t able to keep him, so his uncle took him in. His father is from Greece, but he doesn’t really know him. He had a sister—but those are some bad memories. Still, I have to ask something.
“Any other siblings? Besides the sister you told me about?” I ask apprehensively, hoping it won’t be too much for the first question.
“Got a brother who lives in New York,” he answers. “He actually listened when I pushed him to go to college. Wish my sister had. I’m the oldest, so I felt like I had to look after them. Our uncle is a good man, but he wasn’t ready to be a parent, so that fell on me.”
“Are you close with your brother?” I continue.
“We talk every couple of weeks. See each other around the holidays, if possible.” Boyd shrugs. “He’s got his own life. Makes his money trading stocks and does well, so I don’t really have to worry about him anymore.”
“And he knows what you do?” I ask, nibbling the inside of my mouth.
“Yes,” Boyd confirms. “I started young. I was still a teenager. My uncle’s apartment was right by the Broken Lily. I hung out with Rowan some, before I met Massimo and Leo. It was obvious theyweren’t poor, like most everyone else in The Gutter. When they asked if I wanted to make some money, I was all ears.”
“The Morandi family recruits kids?” My eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “I didn’t realize that.”
“Not really, no. That was Massimo’s doing, really. He was destined to sit at the head of the table. Wanted his own guys. People he could trust to move up in the Morandi family while still having his best interests in mind,” Boyd explains. “Salvatore did the same thing. If Massimo and Lea have a boy, he’ll probably have a band of teenage delinquents answering to him, too, when he’s old enough.”
“My best friend’s kid running the Morandi family.” I exhale sharply. “Lea… might not be fond of that idea.”
“She knew what she was getting into,” Boyd growls. “Just like you do.”
I swallow hard as the implication resonates inside me. He’s right. I know what I’m getting myself into—what I’vealreadygotten myself into. Boyd’s a member of the Morandi family. A high-ranking member. He’s never been on my Mafia true crime wall, but Massimo is. I’m already tangled up in it all. So tangled, I’m on a date with Big Mafia Boyd.
“If you… we… were to have kids. Would you expect them to join the Morandi family?” I ask. “Once they’re old enough.”
“I wouldn’t encourage it, but I’d let them make their own choice,” he says. “I wasn’t born into this like Massimo. But, uh, kids… yeah. Guess we should talk about that, because you probably want them, don’t you?”
“Um, I think so,” I say, tilting my head slightly. “You don’t?”
“It’s not that I don’t,” he sighs, then points to his groin. “I’m sure you saw the scar down there. That bullet didn’t stop me, but it did some damage. Doctor said I basically got a free vasectomy, courtesy of the shrapnel.”
“Oh!” I remark, my eyes getting wide. “That had to hurt!”
“It did,” he agrees. “And there’s so much scar tissue down there, it isn’t something they can fix. Didn’t plan to drop that on you during our first date. Sorry.”
“No, it’s fine.” I reach out and put my hand on his arm. “At least now I can stop worrying if I’m going to get pregnant. We haven’t exactly been using protection.”
