Page 16 of Second in Command
“Let’s not stretch the joke,” I place a hand out to stop her, and she grins. The room falls quiet, and I stare down at my hands, my heart echoing in my chest. Francesca had the effect on me, I didn’t know what to do.
“I’m sorry we didn’t get to talk more . . . to spend more time with each other.”
She turns ever so slightly and looks up at me.
“Enzo,” she mutters, and I follow her gaze. With our eyes locked, she lifts her hand and places it on my cheek. Her eyes dart left to right, searching my face.
“I don’t know how to tell you how much what you did for me tonight, means to me.”
“You don’t have to tell me,” I whisper. She smiles softly, her eyes dropping to my lips.
She brings herself closer, her lips inches away from mine.
I didn’t expect Francesca to place her soft, pink lips on mine. But I closed my eyes and enjoyed it. My hands slowly moved to the back of her neck, pulling her into me, and she groans. I try to ignore it, my desire growing between my legs. But as soon as she raked her finger in my hair, and tugged on my shirt, I had to pull away.
I stand quickly, and she raises an eyebrow at me, leaning back on both hands.
“I should go,” I tell her, “but I’ll check up on you at the bakery if that’s okay.”
I was practically panting, whilst she smirked, and wiped the corner of her lips.
“That’s fine,” she shrugs, “I’ll prepare something just for you. Something you’ll enjoy.”
“I think I’d enjoy anything you make.”
“Hm,” she hums, the smirk still dazzling on her face. Francesca looked at me, her eyelashes batting against her cheek.
I needed to leave. Now.
“I’ll see you in the morning then,” I place a quick kiss on her cheek, and leave. As soon as I was outside I place both hands on my head, and take a deep breath trying to calm myself down.
nine
Francesca Donato
I wokeup the next morning feeling like I was walking on clouds. It’s as if the sun shined even brighter.
I could watch, from my window, the sunshine on my new flowers. They bloomed happily, and I can’t help but smile at them. Enzo had done well.
I’d be seeing him today, and I planned to make him one of my favorite desserts, a simple cinnamon-dusted chocolate croissant. As simple as it may sound, there’s nothing that defeats it in my book.
Surprisingly, as I arrived at my bakery, Michael was already waiting outside. I furrow my eyebrows as I approach him. His hands were tucked into his pocket.
“Michael? You’re very early.”
“I know, I came to check up on you.”
“Check up on — Oh!”
I almost forgot that I pulled a gun on this man just last night. I throw my back underneath my arm and place a hand on my forehead before sighing. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t —”
“Where’d you even get that gun?” he asks before I could finish.
“I have . . . many guns, Michael.”
“Are women even allowed to own guns?” Michael’s demeanor wasn’t like it usually was. His face was stoic and tensed, and his shoulders were rigid. I raise a single eyebrow at him.
“Is there something that you wanted? Because I’m fine, thank you for coming to check up on me.”
