He's a Brute (Tough Love Book 1)

by Chloe Liese

  Gianno stood, paced in front of the fire. “Lorna sat down, played with the napkin. I remember watching her tear it to a hundred little pieces. She looked at me with pain in her eyes, and said she had something difficult to tell me.” He gripped the mantel, then pushed away. “That a child had come from our night together. A daughter, who was nearly four-years-old. A little girl named Nairne.”

  Zed’s body froze around me. His voice was lethal and low. “What did you say?”

  Gianno’s eyes met mine. “I can hardly believe I’m saying it, but this woman—she’s my daughter.”

  I passed out in Zed’s arms. And came to in them, as Italian invective shot across the room.

  Zed squeezed me as he spat back something that I missed entirely. Gianno pinched his fingers together and waved them out in front of him. He yelled one more thing, then stormed out of the room.

  “Zed?” I croaked.

  His eyes flicked down. He held me to him and smooshed my face against his chest. “God, Nairne. I’m so sorry.”

  “For what?” I barely got it out between his death grip and my squished cheeks. “Zed, loosen up, mate.”

  He did as he looked me over. “For this.” He glared off where Gianno had headed. “What a fucking mess.”

  Panic tightened my chest again. Gianno was his uncle. He called him Zio Gianno. “Zed, have we been…are we cousins?”

  Zed’s eyes widened for a moment before he understood. “Jesus, no, Nairne. I swear to you. He’s not our actual uncle. We only call him that, since we’ve known him our whole lives. He and Dad grew up together, next door neighbors. They’re like brothers, but they aren’t related.”

  I sank into his arms. “Oh, thank god.” I stared at the ceiling and tried to patch together a comprehensive picture of what had just happened, what it meant. I couldn’t. And a fit of inappropriate laughter was coming. “Because if I had to give up your cock, I think I might’ve cried.”

  Zed glared down at me and smacked my arse. “It’s not funny. This whole situation is very not funny.”

  I cupped a hand over my mouth and shook my head.

  “Nairne, I swear to the baby Jesus on his birthday, if you don’t stop laughing about this—”

  I scooted myself up, folded over, and went into hysterics. “If my punishment is a good spanking, then just get started then, will you?”

  Zed tugged my ponytail and laughed against my lips as he kissed them hard. He hauled my chair against the sofa and smacked the canvas seat. “Get your little ass in that bedroom in the next five minutes, innamorata, or it’s going to get even worse.”

  I kissed him back through my own laughter. “Yes, sir.”

  Thirty-Two

  Zed

  I watched her sleep. The rhythmic rise and fall of her chest. She’d hit the pillow and immediately fallen into REM. No surprise to me, she was exhausted by the day’s events. Her eyes danced under her eyelids and I wondered if she was dreaming about her father. The one man who, in her wildest dreams, she’d never thought she’d meet.

  What a fucking mess. All of it. Gianno being her dad. Our impossible love. Jesus, I loved her. It had fallen out of my mouth as I’d sunk into her body and felt the metaphorical weight to the physical reality, and the two shall become one flesh. And when she’d looked at me in pain and longing, I felt the words she’d been too stunned and afraid to say back. I knew she wanted me. I knew we made sense like nothing else in my life had before. I knew I wanted to be one thing with Nairne. Together. And it was the one thing I couldn’t have.

  I had less than six months to squeeze a lifetime of love out of her, and then after that I’d be tortured with seeing her here and there, over extended family and friend functions, since presumably she and Gianno would make a relationship work. She’d visit him in Italy. Our families were close friends. Any time we made it to Genoa, we spent practically the whole time together. Paths would cross and I’d have to see another man take my place one day and give her the life I couldn’t.

  I was jealous and sick to my stomach at that thought, but more than both of those selfish emotions, I was happy for her. That she had a parent now, a family to call her own. In retrospect, they had a lot in common, now that I put it together. Sharp wit, unassuming confidence in their abilities, humility in their curiosity about all they wanted to know and didn’t yet. An intensity to their affection that didn’t have much breadth, but rather incredible depth for those lucky enough to earn it. I wasn’t surprised how well they’d hit it off.

  They’d talked after she and I’d taken a “nap” and Gianno had cooled down from all the hotheaded shit I said to him when he made her drop into my arms in a faint. He’d hurt her, and anyone who hurt the woman I loved got my fiercest brutality. I’d apologized, he’d apologized, and I’d begrudgingly left them alone. After they’d spent about two hours in Dad’s study—I may have paced around outside it until Dad grabbed me by the arm and got me a little drunk in the kitchen to distract me—Gianno left looking proud and happy. And Nairne smiled to herself like she had a secret that made her glow from the inside out.

  She stirred in her sleep and smiled. How could I let this go? A woman whose iron sharpened mine. A partner and lover like I’d never found before.

  Mom had once told me never to accept “impossible” as the answer to life’s challenges. “Look within yourself, Zedekiah. And don’t accept an answer you can’t tolerate. It’s we who shape our lives, who make our truth and the path born from it.”

  Everything about us was impossible, but accepting that answer made me ill. Could I find a way out? Escape without undoing everything I’d worked for, without endangering people and negligently allowing violence and cruelty to spread like a poison in the city again?

  I kissed her cheek and breathed deeply. She smelled like ocean air and blossoms. Like new shores and possibility.

  I wanted her. Impossible could fuck off. I pressed my lips to her hair and whispered, “Wait for me innamorata. I’m coming.”

  Nairne and Zed’s story continues in She’s a Spitfire, Book Two in The Tough Love Series.

  Acknowledgments

  When I had my first daughter, I was told more times than I can count that it takes a village to raise a baby. Well, it takes a village to make a book, and I’m so very grateful for my village.

  My beloved friend, and the father of our supergirls. You supported me from the first moment I disappeared into Nairne and Zed’s world. When I read to you, you laughed, whistled, and freaked at the suspense in all the right places. You believed in me, and told me whatever it took to publish my books, you’d make sure it happened. Thank you.

  My girls, for dealing with Mommy making some really underwhelming meals, for being distracted with plot lines as she drove, for loving me and inspiring me to write women you’ll admire for their intelligence, independence, passion, and bravery.

  My tribe of women who love me and all my quirks. Some of whom beta read this book on their phones while making dinner, waiting for business meetings at the bar, on airplanes and during vacation. You gave me honest, encouraging feedback, and it meant the world to me.

  My editor, Stacy, who knows exactly how to tighten up language and let it out in all the right places, like a dress fitting that ends in that perfect twirl of delight. This story is its best self because of you.

  My dear friend and talented artist, Jennie. I showed you a bunch of unrelated pictures as I described what I saw in my mind’s eye, and you captured those nebulous ideas brilliantly, in your creative, unique way, and made a slamming cover.

  Finally, you, dear reader. Thank you for taking a leap of faith, for diving in to my world and falling for my characters. For purchasing my book, for supporting my work and creativity. Your readership, your interest, your opinions, matter, and I’m deeply grateful for each one of you.

  I began my writing journey with an idea in my head and a need in my heart to create characters whose quirks and circumstances might be a little larger than life, but who were
ultimately quite relatable. I’ve written characters with foibles and oddities, challenges and fears, passions and dreams, some of which may echo in your life. I hope that as you’ve followed them, you’ve enjoyed both an escape into an unexpected world, and a coming home to an emotion or an experience that resonates with you.

  Writing is an iterative process, and only gets better with constructive critique. If you have the time and inclination, please leave an honest review. Your feedback is invaluable to me!

  About the Author

  Chloe writes stories that, like people, resist categories. Her contemporary romances are hot, witty, full of heart and keep you on the edge of your seat. She’s an avid reader, Harry Potter lover, and eats more peanut butter cups than she probably should.

  To sign up for Chloe’s latest news, new releases, and special offers, please visit her website (http://www.chloeliese.com) and subscribe! Want to connect further? Find Chloe on the following platforms:

  Books by Chloe Liese

  He’s a Brute (Tough Love, #1)

  She’s a Spitfire (Tough Love, #2)

  They’re a Match (Tough Love, #3)