by Land, Alexa
Salvation
by Alexa Land
a M/M erotic romance
Book Five in the Firsts and Forever Series
Copyright 2014 by Alexa Land. All rights reserved. No reproduction, copy or transmission in whole or in part of this publication is permitted without express written consent from the author.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either used fictitiously or are the product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, business establishments or locales is purely coincidental.
This book contains sexually explicit material
and is only intended for adult readers.
Books by Alexa Land Include:
Feral
Tinder (The Tinder Chronicles, Book One)
Hunted (The Tinder Chronicles, Book Two)
And the Firsts and Forever Series:
Way Off Plan
All In
In Pieces
Gathering Storm
Salvation
Dedicated to
Joe and Jonathan
Your Love Inspires Me
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Epilogue
About the Author
Skye Blue Sneak Peek
Chapter One
Focus, Trevor.
Okay, that’d be a lot easier if the insanely gorgeous guy in the corner stopped staring at me. Who was he, and what was he doing at this party? He certainly wasn’t here to have fun. He was more like a sentry, expressionless in his dark, expensive suit, every black hair in place. And there was an air of danger about him, like maybe he was in the FBI, or a hit man or something. Silent but deadly.
I had to fight back a laugh at that. Oh man, I was totally losing it. What was I saying about focusing? I dragged my eyes away from SBD and gathered a few empty cans and glasses from the furniture, lining them up on the heavy tray I was awkwardly balancing on my left hand.
About ten seconds later, I snuck another look at him. He was still watching me. It actually would have been slightly unnerving, if I didn’t find him incredibly sexy.
Aside from his silver, wire-framed glasses, SBD kind of looked like a younger version of an actor whose name escaped me, a tall, hunky Italian that had played a part in a movie I’d seen recently. The movie was Magic Mike…what was the character’s name again?
Oh, right. Big Dick Ritchie. At that, my gaze flickered involuntarily to the stranger’s…area. When I realized what I’d just done, a blush crept into my cheeks. God, what a spaz. I turned my back to the guy in the corner and pulled a dish cloth from the black apron tied around my hips, busily wiping up a water mark to hide my embarrassment.
I swung around to head back to the kitchen, and tripped over a stair I not only knew was there, but that I’d reminded myself earlier not to trip on. The tray swung precariously to the left, then the right as I flailed wildly. It was like some sort of comedy juggling act, only I wasn’t laughing. This was my second catering job ever, and I was about to smash all of my host’s glassware to bits. That was so not good.
A big hand clamped down on the edge of the tray, stabilizing it instantly. Don’t be the hottie, don’t be the hottie, don’t be the hottie, I thought to myself as I straightened up and pushed my overgrown bangs out of my eyes.
It was the hottie.
SBD’s gaze was even more intense close up, his dark eyes beautiful and piercing at the same time. I felt another blush warming my cheeks. God I hated that about myself, the fact that I blushed like a southern belle at a cotillion every time I got embarrassed, and I got embarrassed a lot.
Right now, for example.
Don’t start rambling, don’t start rambling, don’t start rambling. “Wow, you got over here really fast,” I rambled. “Kind of like that scene in Twilight where he stops the van.” Oh my God, I’m talking about Twilight! Someone kill me! “I mean, not that I’ve seen it, or anything. Well, okay, I’m lying. Obviously I’ve seen it. Otherwise, how would I know about the van scene? I just didn’t want to admit that I’d seen it. Actually, I saw it three times. I was totally team Edward.” For the love of God, shut up! “And you did get over here really fast. But instead of saving me from a van, you saved me from the cans.” I picked up an empty soda can from my tray and rattled it, then set it back down. Then I almost dropped the tray again. SBD’s hand shot out and steadied it. Was I imagining it, or was there the faintest trace of a smile on those full lips?
“Okay. So, I’m just going to go to the kitchen and die now,” I said. “Enjoy the party. Which, you know, you’ll stand a better chance of if you don’t go back to that corner.” I turned and fled, my face most certainly Santa suit red.
“Dude, what happened to you?” River asked when I returned to the kitchen.
The huge apartment was an open floor plan, so I was still within sight of…okay, I had to stop calling him SBD. The Italian Secret Service, that was better. I was still in sight of ISS, but kept my back to him and the rest of the party as I asked, “What do you mean?”
“I was watching you out there. You were having some kind of conniption.”
“What’s a conniption?”
“You know, like a conniption fit? Some kind of spazzy little breakdown?” River was originally from Louisiana, but he’d lived in San Francisco the last few years. His speech was now a weird mash-up of southern slacker and California surfer.
“I thought a conniption fit was when someone got really angry and started waving their hands around.”
He considered that for a moment, then said, “Okay, maybe. I thought it also meant, like, a spaz attack, but I could be wrong. Anyway, what were you doing out there? And please tell me that Italian mobster stereotype was not hitting on you.”
“No. But funnily enough, apparently Nana’s family really is in the mob. I just found that out.”
River’s brown eyes went wide. “No shit. And here she’s offering to help us with our catering business. Next thing you know, we’ll be money laundering and running numbers on the side.”
I grinned at him and asked, “Do you actually know what either of those things involve?”
“No clue.” River turned to the stove and pulled a pan off the heat, then said, “Seriously though, that guy looks like trouble with a capital W.T.F. If I could make a suggestion as your new friend and business partner, it would be this: stay the hell away from men that look like Tony Soprano’s much hotter younger cousin.”
“I wonder who he is.” I snuck a glance over my shoulder. He was back in his corner, those dark eyes still on me. Embarrassingly, certain parts of my anatomy liked the fact that he was watching me, and I surreptitiously adjusted the front of my apron.
“He arrived with Nana, that’s all I know.” River raised an eyebrow at me and exclaimed, “Oh mah gawd. Has he gotten your lady parts all hot and bothered?”
“River, I’m a dude. No lady parts.”
“I know. I’m teasin’ ya. But if you did have lady parts, tell me this. Would they be wet now?”
I laughed at that and threw a dish towel at his head. “There’s really something wrong with you.”
“I know, and you were dumb enough to go into business with me. Speaking of which, how long
do you think it’ll be before everyone discovers we’re not real caterers?”
“We are real caterers, and we’ve got the huge bill from the restaurant supply store to prove it.”
“Yeah, gawd, don’t remind me. This gig will almost pay for half of it.”
“The next job will pay for the rest and then some, if we manage to keep costs down.”
“Check you out, with your natural-born business sense and all. This is why it’s good that we’ve teamed up. I hate thinkin’ about stuff like money and expenses. I just want to make food that tastes awesome.”
“You’re great at that.” I’d been loading glasses into the dishwasher as we were talking, my back still to the party, and I asked River, “Is he still looking over here?”
“No.”
“He isn’t?”
“And you’re all disappointed! Yes, of course he’s still lookin’ over here. That is one smitten Soprano. By the way, how totally fifth grade was that question? Do you want me to pass him a note? ‘Do you like Trevor? Check the box, yes or no.’ For fuck’s sake, T!”
“I’m just not used to scorchingly hot guys noticing me. Hell, I’m not used to any guys noticing me.”
“What’re you talkin’ about? You’re cute.”
“I’m not. I’m shy and awkward. Oh and also, kind of a spaz. That guy’s probably staring at me because he can’t believe how dorky I am. Do you know what I did when I had a chance to talk to him? I started rattling off about Twilight.”
River looked stricken. “Please tell me you’re joking.”
“I told him I’d seen it three times, and that I used to be team Edward.”
River tried to hand me a huge chef’s knife. “There’s just no coming back from humiliation like that. Ritualistic suicide is the only option left to you.”
“Don’t I know it.” I added detergent to the dishwasher and shut it, then pushed the on-button. “It’s really no wonder that I’m a twenty-year-old virgin.”
“Okay, so that’s what your problem is.”
“The fact that I need to get laid?”
“No, the fact that you have a chronic case of TMI. People don’t need to know that about you, Trev! And the Man in Black over there certainly didn’t need to know you have the cinematic taste of a fourteen-year-old girl.”
“Nobody needs to know that.”
“Exactly my point!” River exclaimed as he stirred the sauce he’d taken off the stove, then refilled a decanter on the buffet. “Oh, bad news,” he said. “Nana just said something to MiB, and he’s headed for the door.”
“Damn it, really?” I snuck a glance across the apartment and confirmed that River wasn’t just yanking my chain. “Aw. Goodbye, Big Dick Ritchie,” I murmured. The guy left without looking back.
River laughed at that. “You have x-ray vision or something?”
“What? Oh, no. He just reminded me of a character in a movie.”
“A porno movie?”
“No. Never mind.”
“Hey, don’t get all sulky now,” he said as he moved to a cutting board and began chopping things to replenish the crudité platter. “You didn’t want that guy anyway.”
“I didn’t?”
“Hell no. Innocent little virgin like you? You’d be better off dating a great white shark than that straight-up gangstah.”
“I’m so sorry I told you I was a virgin.”
River shot me a big smile, his dark eyes sparkling. “I know.”
Nana breezed into the kitchen and popped an appetizer in her mouth. She was a petite woman of about eighty, with white hair and a personality so big, it was surprising that tiny body could contain it. I’d met her through my friend Hunter. Apparently she had a habit of taking in strays, which was probably why she’d latched on to both River and me in a big way. “How you holding up, boys?” she asked around a mouthful of stuffed mushroom. She was currently wearing a tall, black witch hat, as were several of her friends. I didn’t ask.
“Good,” River replied with a smile. “This is way less stressful than the gallery grand opening, where we were trying to feed hundreds of people. And no one’s even shot at us yet!”
That had literally happened during our first catering job. Hunter was a former porn star, and he'd had a stalker. The night of a launch party at an art gallery owned by Hunter's friend Christopher, the stalker showed up and fired a gun at several people, including me. But between Hunter grabbing the man’s arm and River dragging me upstairs to safety, I’d lived to tell about my first catering job. The stalker was dead now and my friend was piecing his life back together, with the help of his boyfriend Brian. Being shot at had rattled me more than I let on, but it wasn’t going to stop me from wanting to do this job.
“Speaking of guns, Mrs. Dombruso,” River transitioned, “is it true your family’s in the mafia?” I gave him a look, but he ignored me.
“We were, for eight generations. For the past couple decades, though, the family’s been moving away from the illegal end of things, into, you know, more law-abiding ways to make a buck,” she said. “My grandson Dante ran the family business until recently, and he and his father before him really tried to put the family on a new path. His cousins are running things now, and from what I hear, they’re keeping things legit, too. Dante set up so many legal sources of revenue for this family that there really was no need to hang on to the old ways.”
“So, your family’s basically retired from the mafia,” River said.
“Well, yes and no. It’s not the kind of thing you ever really retire from. Just because you say you’re done with the business doesn’t mean the business is done with you. Know what I’m saying?”
River shook his head. “No, not really.”
“It’s like this. We Dombrusos may not be running illegal operations any more, but you think the Caravetti family cares about that? Or the Silpados? Or the Costas? You can retire all you want, but the other families don’t forget history. There are still old grudges, and some of these go back generations. That’s why a family like mine has to stay strong, retired or not, because you never know when one of those bastards is gonna decide to settle a score.” She said all of that very matter-of-factly, then popped another mushroom in her mouth.
“I get it,” River said.
“It’s good you’re asking these questions,” she told us. “You’re a couple smart boys, and you should know who you're doing business with.”
“It’s really nice that you want to help us out, and that you asked us to cater this party,” River said. “I still don’t think we’re ready to cater a wedding, though.”
Nana seemed like the kind of person who always had a major project or two in the works. In addition to helping us launch our catering business, she’d also been planning the wedding of Christopher, the really cute, sweet owner of the aforementioned art gallery, and his sexy fiancé Kieran. The wedding was in three weeks. “Oh, you can do that, no problem,” she said. “All you gotta focus on is appetizers and a sit-down dinner for a hundred. I got a bakery handling the cake and a bartender for the drinks, plus I’ve already hired a wait staff. You just gotta cook, that’s it!”
“But it’s a wedding,” River persisted. “What if we mess up? I’d feel terrible if I ruined their big day.”
Nana turned and scanned the apartment, pointed to Christopher and Kieran, and said, “Look at those two.” They were curled up on the couch with their arms around each other and their foreheads touching, deep in conversation and totally oblivious to the rest of the party. “You see how in love they are? Nothing you do could possibly spoil their wedding day. Hell, you could serve ‘em soup that tasted like gym socks and I don’t think they’d notice or care.”
“Well, that’s sort of reassuring, I guess,” River said as he started combining two half-empty trays of sandwiches. “But I’m really going to try not to serve ‘em gym sock soup.”
“We got three whole weeks to practice recipes,” she said. “You're coming to my house Monday, rem
ember? I'm gonna help you. Also, I’ve arranged it so you can go to Bellacorona a couple days early. That way, you can do your prep at a leisurely pace and get the lay of the land.”
The wedding was going to be held at the home of one of Nana’s relatives. Apparently it was some big mansion on a cliff overlooking the Pacific about three hours south of San Francisco, a house so fancy it actually had a name. “That’s a good idea to go early,” I said. “I’ll ask for the time off from work.” I bussed tables at an Irish sports bar and grill called Nolan’s, with the hopes of moving into the kitchen when a job opened up.
“Alright, I gotta go mingle. You boys are doing a bang-up job.” She started to head back into the living room.
“Nana,” I called after her, “who was that guy in the black suit that you were talking to a couple minutes ago? The one that left.”
She turned to me and said, “That was my grandson Vincent. Why do you ask?”
“No reason.” I started rearranging the buffet table, which really didn’t need rearranging.
“He didn’t look like he was having a very good time,” River chimed in.
“I don’t think my grandson knows how to have a good time. Sometimes it's hard to believe he's only twenty-six, he's so uptight! He’s been staying with me, so I was able to corner him and force him to come along. I told him he had to at least give it a chance, but there was no point if he was just going to stand in the corner and brood, so I sent him on a couple errands.” Nana grabbed one more stuffed mushroom before breezing back into the heart of the festivities.
“You just had to ask,” River teased once she’d gone.
“I wanted a name for him besides Silent But Deadly.”
River burst out laughing. “Oh man. You named your dream man after a fart?”
“Did I say he’s my dream man?”
“I’m just assuming, based on how much he flustered you.”
I was spared further teasing by the arrival of Hunter in the kitchen. He and his boyfriend Brian had spent almost the entire party glued to each other off in a corner, watching the festivities with amused expressions. It was his apartment, but Nana was throwing the party. I got the impression she hadn’t actually told him about it ahead of time, but he was being a good sport about the impromptu home invasion.
