Smoke: The Carelli Family Saga, Book One

by Eden Butler

  “Dante, amore,” I heard, recognizing Mrs. Carelli’s soft tone as she approached.

  Smoke still held her, but his attention moved from his mother and shifted to me as Dante smiled at the woman, grinning wider when she reached for him.

  “We’ll switch. It’s been ages since I’ve had a dance with my bambino. Here…” She grabbed Smoke’s hand, then took mine from Dante’s hold and pressed his right into my left. “You dance with Maggie, Dimitri. So she’s not left without a partner. You don’t mind, do you? No? Good.”

  And just like that, Smoke held me, wrapping his large arm around my waist and his long fingers curling around my hand.

  Heat began to pool at the center of my back just as the music lowered. I paused, looking up, thinking that we wouldn’t have to suffer through an entire song. But Smoke never slowed. He never paused for a second as Otis’s voice faded and the slow, rough whine of a rhythm guitar started up with another faster ballad.

  Foy Vance’s Pain Never Hurt Me Like Love moved through the room like the wind. Each word blistering through me, resonating as that haunting voice seemed to mimic so much of what I felt.

  He didn’t speak.

  Smoke just held me, shifting our bodies in a sensual sway that pushed us closer together. I wanted to stop the world just then. Keep us frozen in that small moment with Smoke holding me, moving us closer, where it felt like nothing else mattered but how intensely he watched me and how good it felt when he moved his thumb to my cheek and let it skim over my jaw.

  “You’re fucking beautiful,” he said, not blinking, his movements slowing. “You always are.” Smoke took his hand from my face, and I spotted the tension flexing his jaw when I looked away, but he didn’t drop his hold on me or let me have even an inch of space. “You make shit fly right out of my mouth, bella.”

  That time I did look at him, wondering why he was blaming me for the things he let move freely from his mouth. “That isn’t my fault.”

  His smirk was easy, soft and when he nodded, he did it with a movement of his shoulder that told me he only had himself to blame. “No. It’s not.” Smoke pulled me close, his fingers gripping at my waist. “There’s just something about you that…”

  “Excuse me?”

  Smoke jerked his gaze to the man at our side but didn’t take his hands from me.

  The wire-rimmed glasses didn’t hide the guy’s handsome face or take away from the fullness of his mouth. He was a stranger in this town and clearly had no idea who he was interrupting.

  “There a problem?” Smoke asked, pulling me closer.

  “Not at all. Sorry,” the man said, glancing between us. “I…don’t mean to bust up anything, but that woman over there,” he pointed to the table, to where Toni sat nursing a mug of what looked like coffee, “she suggested I ask you to dance.” He smiled at me, shifting his attention back to Smoke when neither of us moved. “That is if you don’t mind.”

  “Who the hell are you?” The question came out rude and suspicious, but most of Smoke’s did when he was faced with people he didn’t know. That’s how our first interaction went.

  “Sorry,” wire-rimmed glasses said. “I’m August Grant.” He extended his hand, holding it out.

  Smoke waited several seconds, his gaze shooting down to the offered handshake, then back at August’s friendly smile before he shook it. When Smoke released his hand, August seemed to relax.

  “Excellent. So…do you mind?”

  “Yes!” We both said at the same time, and the man blinked, nodding once before he returned to his seat.

  Smoke waited until the man sat, his jaw clenching, his head turning as Paris approached, calling after him, and he grabbed my hand, pulling me off the dancefloor and up the stairs, away from the crowd, from the noise and activity of everyone that seemed to want something from him.

  I looked once over my shoulder, spotting Mateo asleep on Maria’s lap, catching a wink and a wave of approval from her as Smoke led me up the stairs and into the forgotten offices on the second floor.

  “Where are we going?” I asked, taking two steps at a time to keep up with him.

  He tightened his hold on my hand, but didn’t speak, not until we were down the hallway and through the last office door at the end.

  There was a single desk in the room and boxes of glasses and table linens lined along the wall. Smoke locked the door, pulling me against his chest, one arm around my waist before he hoisted me onto the desk.

  “Five minutes. Five fucking minutes, bella. That’s all I’ve wanted with you all damn night and there has been something in my way the whole time.” He grabbed my face, looking over my features, lips pressed together like he wanted to devour me and wasn’t sure how to start the meal. “I realized five minutes…five million wouldn’t be enough.”

  “When did you…”

  He didn’t wait, covering my mouth, stealing my breath as he kissed me.

  It was all mouth—his thick, fat bottom lip over mine, his tongue inside as he held my face still, as he directed me, commanded me with the slow movement of his mouth over mine, and I got dizzy just from the heat of his taste and the weight of his body as he leaned over me, pressing me back against the desk.

  “Smo…Smoke…” I managed, nibbling his lips, wanting more, pushing him against me, my leg against his calf when he moved his hips against mine. “Dios, I missed you…”

  “Move in with me.”

  I blinked, pushing against his chest when his words registered. “I’m…what?”

  Smoke shook his head, gaze shooting over my face like he’d forgotten the contours of my features and was trying to recommit them to memory. “I sound like an asshole, but I don’t care. You and the kid, you mean…everything to me. I want you with me, all the time. In my place, where I can protect you.”

  It wasn’t a grand declaration of love.

  But for Smoke, it was close to it.

  “But you said…”

  “I was stupid, bella. We both were.” He frowned, his mouth tensing, and a small line formed between his eyebrows. “They shot Dino and he knew how to take care of himself. They knew how important he was to me.” He moved his fingers to my neck, watching the trail of his nails against my skin when he touched my collarbone, and I held my breath waiting for what he’d say next. “But you…Mateo…”

  “We’re just…”

  “You’re everything…to me.”

  “Smoke, you can’t say things like that when you don’t…” I shook my head, pushing against his chest, but he wouldn’t budge.

  He watched me then, the tension in his features growing tighter, the clench in his jaw flexing. “I don’t say things I don’t mean, Maggie. I’m an honest man.”

  “I know that.”

  “And when I say you mean everything, I mean…that I love you.” Smoke settled against me, his hands on either side of my head. “You and the kid…you belong to me in a way no one else can. You own me like no one else ever will.”

  “Smoke…ah…” My throat burned and shook my voice, the tightness in my sinuses leaving me unable to do more than pull him in for a soft kiss.

  “Move in with me,” he said again, this time little more than a whisper.

  “Yeah,” I said, taking the kiss he offered. “Okay…”

  Smoke’s smile was slow, sweet, and his eyes were lit with something blazing. The lick of memory that I recalled every time he was inside me. It was desire, passion, and the promise that there would be more. Always more, that he’d never be finished with me. Smoke Carelli made a promise with one look—one I wasn’t sure he could keep but one that said a lot without a single word before he came closer, stunning me with a kiss that left me breathless.

  10

  Smoke

  It wasn’t the trip I’d planned.

  There’d been the picnics, like always. That much hadn’t changed.

  Mateo and Maggie had loved the lake house and Ma had insisted that her staff with no Fourth of July plans or family to do anyth
ing with, tag along for the day. It had been nice. Fun. Easy.

  No threats. No worries.

  No bullshit following us around.

  No Finney idiots that needed reminding who they shouldn’t steal from—my damn knuckles still ached over that shit.

  The fireworks the last night had been the best part, underneath a clear sky and my pop and Dario manning the grill like pros as I lifted the kid on my shoulders, laughing while he screamed with each blast and shot that streamed red and blue in the sky overhead.

  “Smoke, turn this way, I want a picture,” Maggie said, aiming her phone toward me, her beautiful smile lit up brighter than the fireworks shooting off above us. “So sweet.” She reached up, kissing me, then the kid as two of the night servers cracked open a six pack and the taller of the two offered a bottle to me.

  “I’m good, man. Thanks,” I told him.

  “I’ll take one.” My smile lowered when I heard Paris’s high-pitched cadence. She’d been hovering all weekend, prancing around in her thong bikini as Maggie and I brought Mateo onto the lake in the three-person canoe, and fixing her blanket near ours on the beach when the picnic kicked off.

  “You got an admirer,” Maggie commented when we stretched out for a nap sometime around two that afternoon and I got to my side, looking over my shoulder to spot Paris watching us.

  “She’s harmless,” I promised, not worried about a clingy waitress, but surprised by Maggie’s laugh. “What?”

  “Men,” she said, rubbing sunblock on Mateo’s nose as he slept. “Utterly clueless.”

  But it wasn’t Paris and the side-eye attention she gave me all weekend that had really disturbed shit. That came later as we packed up our gear and prepared to settle in for the night.

  “Maggie!” I heard, stuffing the kid’s snacks into his bag as she brushed out the blanket and then saw Curtis, the kid she’d trained all month, jogging toward her.

  “Hey. I thought you weren’t coming,” she said, greeting him.

  I didn’t pay much attention to them. Mateo was crawling over me, trying to dig into his bag, looking for the animal crackers I’d just hidden in the front pocket and like the mook I was, I fought with him, trying to distract him with carrot sticks I knew he’d never eat.

  “Yeah, I had to bring my girlfriend to her uncle’s before I made it up here. Oh, I wanted to check on you. We haven’t worked together since that day you got sick. Remember?”

  The kid threw a carrot straight at my head and I ducked, cracking a smile when he laughed at me. “Think you’re slick, don’t you?”

  “Um…really?” I heard Maggie say, only half-listening, but recognizing the nervous tone of hers for what it was. “Was that the last time?”

  “Yeah, I could tell you weren’t just feeling bad. I figured you rolled out because those assholes were bugging you. Weird thing was, one of them was all twenty questions about you after you left, then he started snooping around at the staff pictures by the register. You know the ones with Mrs. Carelli and the Christmas party?”

  “He…was?”

  I stood, bringing Mateo with me, standing at Maggie side. “What guy?” I asked the kid, ignoring how quickly the smile dropped from his lips.

  “Oh…I don’t know, Mr. Carelli. Some suit. He was kind of an asshole.” He looked at Maggie, then back at me like he realized he’d said too much. “I’m…sorry. I didn’t know I wasn’t…”

  Maggie shook her head, waving him off. “It’s fine, Curtis. Really. Thanks for letting me know.”

  Curtis wasted no time taking off and Maggie handled herself well, grabbing the kid from me and nodding me forward, away from my family and the crowd. We walked down to the pier, toward the boat house, letting Mateo play in one of the canoes suspended securely between two posts.

  My chest felt tight, and for a second, I reminded myself of the worry and fear that had kept me from wanting a normal life. “When did this happen?”

  Maggie looked out on the water, her arms folded across her chest, chin lifted. “The…the night Dino was shot. It’s why I went to see you. Antonia told me…” I made a noise, releasing something filthy under my breath, and Maggie glared at me.

  “Fucking Toni…”

  “She was trying to help me…”

  “Madonna…” I rubbed my face, the pulse in my neck ticking faster and faster the harder I looked at her. Maggie knelt down, reaching out to brush clean Mateo’s face as he pulled on one of the knots in the rope tying the canoe to the post. “Who was this guy?”

  She exhaled, dipping her head. “John Reynolds. He worked with Alejandro.” She glanced at me, her expression tight. “My ex-husband.” When she nodded toward the baby, I understood and some of my anger deflated. “I was worried he’d see me and tell him where I was. I got scared.”

  I could understand that fear, but not her lapse in logic. “Explain to me how I’m supposed to have your back if you don’t tell me when some fucker that knows your husband comes into the restaurant.” I took a step when she opened her mouth, looking ready to make an excuse, but I didn’t want to hear one. “For the life of me, I don’t get how the hell you think I’m supposed to take care of this situation if you keep it to yourself.”

  “You’re not,” she said, moving her chin up.

  So damn defiant.

  “I’m…what?”

  “It wasn’t your situation to handle. It was mine.”

  I moved closer, jerking my hand out of my pocket to run my fingers through my hair. “Your solution was to come to me because you were scared. I’m right about that?” She didn’t answer but didn’t look away from me either. “You came to me because my kid sister told you that was the best place for you. And you listened. So if that wasn’t my situation to handle, why the fuck did you bother coming to me at all?”

  “I…needed somewhere to…go.”

  “You couldn’t go home?”

  Again, Maggie opened her mouth, but remained silent.

  “So, you’re saying I was good enough to fuck but not good enough to protect you?”

  “No.” She swallowed, those big, black eyes shifting, her gaze moving over my face as she stood, her lips tight, frowning. “No…but you…I was going to tell you… after but…” I moved forward, forgetting my anger just for a second as Maggie blinked, moving her eyes to my mouth. “Afterward …there…wasn’t time.”

  “Bella…” I touched her cheek and Maggie relaxed, moving toward my fingers as I held her face between my palms. “You have to let me protect you.” I pushed my forehead to hers, inhaling her sweet scent. “This only works if you let me protect you.”

  “And what about you?” she said, tilting her head. When I squinted at her, confused, she lifted my hand, pointing at my knuckles still bruised from the beating I’d given Finney’s man. “Is this how you’re gonna protect us?”

  “Yes,” I said, not hesitating. When Maggie’s expression dropped, her mouth opening, I grabbed her face, holding it between my fingers. “I don’t know any other way and I’ve never done this before. You. Me…” I glanced at the kid, then back to her. “Us. Tell me you wouldn’t kill for him. What person on this planet wouldn’t kill to protect the people they love?”

  Maggie waited a long time before she answered. There was a look that passed in her eyes, too much I couldn’t get a read on before she nodded, seeming to understand me at least a little bit.

  “I’d do anything for him.”

  “And I’d do anything for you both, but you have to tell me when there’s a threat coming for us. Bella, I have to be prepared for it.”

  She nodded, pushing her eyebrows together.

  “Promise me.”

  “I promise, sweetie. I won’t keep anything else from you.”

  I hoped like hell she meant it.

  Two days passed before we got back into our groove, and I spent that time trying to get an angle on this Reynolds asshole. But there was no intel that linked him to Maggie, at least nothing concrete. There was, however, a flower de
livery that came to her apartment when I was in Edgemont with Dino, something that irritated me to discover she hadn’t told me about until I texted her.

  Smoke: You got flowers and didn’t tell me?

  Maggie: I thought if they weren’t from you, they might be from your mom.

  Smoke: Hell. That would make sense.

  Fact was, I wouldn’t put it past the woman. In fact, since Pop’s party, she was doing her best to let everyone in town know she’d orchestrated my entire relationship with Maggie.

  She probably did send her the damn roses.

  I meant to ask her in person when she stopped by my office to get Mateo while I watched him for Maggie as she went to the dentist. But, my mother was late, she always was when there was food to prepare for the kid, and it seemed she had a lot of it, and the other visitor I had me forgetting about the damn flowers. Ma though, was single-minded.

  “He’ll be hungry. He needs fattening up. Let me see what I have in the kitchen. Ah, I know, buttered noodles.”

  “Ma. He just ate,” I’d told her, trying to stop her before she hung up the phone, but the line went dead and I chunked my cell on the desk, wincing when the kid stared up at me like I’d flung the thing across the room. “Sorry, man.” But he was already over the disruption and caught up in playing with my chain and I was too busy fanning through articles about this REN Cypher company that Reynolds and Maggie’s ex worked at to give too much attention to who came in behind me. But the scent was too sweet and thick for my liking.

  I jerked around, flaring my nostrils when Paris came through the door. “Can I help you?” I asked her when she stood next to my desk.

  Her expression was severe as she watched Mateo. Like she was disappointed I held him, but then she smiled, blinking away her frown before she brushed the hair from her forehead. “I wanted to know, um…Smoke, if I could speak to you.” Clearly, I needed to have a conversation with my boys about who they let in my office.

  “Speak,” I told her, my attention moving back to my laptop and another article about the potential of the company going public if their app live date went off without a hitch.