by Ravenna Tate
Maybe it was time she do the same thing?
****
“You did not score tickets to that! Oh my God!” Emmi hoped her screams into the phone hadn’t hurt Digger’s ear, but she could hardly believe what he’d just told her. She’d wanted to see this Broadway show for over a year now.
“Not only tickets, but first row mezzanine tickets. No one in front of us, and we won’t miss a thing.”
“No way.”
“Way.”
She laughed. “Digger, I’m really impressed.”
“It was nothing. Do you want me to pick you up, or should we meet there?”
“We’ll meet there. Don’t drive all the way out here and then back into the city. You can drive me home the next morning.” Shivers ran down her spine as she pictured fucking him again in that beautiful condo. It had only been a week since she’d spent the night after the delicious dinner he’d cooked, and she missed him like crazy.
“That will be more than worth the wait.”
“I can’t wait either. I’ll talk to you later. Work beckons.”
After Emmi disconnected the call, she pretended to look busy on a brief she was writing, but her mind was still on the past couple of days. She hadn’t been home Saturday morning for three hours when flowers were delivered to the house, along with a note telling her how much fun he’d had.
The gesture practically sent her mother into wedding planning mode, but that didn’t bother Emmi at all. He also had texted and called her the day before, on Sunday. That was the same day she’d been tagged in the picture of Sam and Miss Skinny Ass.
But the thing was, the person she couldn’t stop thinking about was Digger. Not for one moment. Working today was difficult even though she could do this brief in her sleep, because she only wanted to be with him.
Her mother’s question came back to her several times. The one she’d asked when Emmi told her she wasn’t in love with Digger. “Are you sure?” Emmi wasn’t quite ready to answer it, but she certainly felt differently toward him now than she had a few weeks earlier.
And that was a good feeling. A really good feeling.
Chapter Fifteen
During the next two weeks, Emmi kept everything her mother had told her in mind as she enjoyed all the attention lavished on her by Digger. They had an amazing time at the show he’d procured choice seats for. One week after he’d cooked dinner for her, she cooked for him at his condo.
They hung out in Sunset Park, enjoying the Manhattan skyline from across the river. Both agreed it looked more beautiful from that vantage point than from the top of any skyscraper in Manhattan. They explored the Cloisters, where Digger told her he first got the idea to collect antique weaponry.
“I discovered the museums when I was about ten years old, and my obsession with old weapons was born.”
They enjoyed the Bushwick street art, and walked through Brooklyn Bridge Park. “I grew up near here,” he told her. “So did Donny.”
“Is your childhood house still standing?”
“Yes. Only it’s not a house. It’s an apartment building.”
“I made an assumption there, didn’t I?”
“No. A house or an apartment is still your home, whether it contains two rooms or two dozen.” He winked.
“You know, my mother said something to me last week about me not really understanding what it’s like to live differently than I do. She’s never said anything like that to me before.”
“And what was your reaction?”
Emmi frowned. “She’s right. I don’t understand. Not really.”
“We can’t help who we’re born to.”
“No, but we can step outside our comfort zone and try to understand the rest of world better.”
“But you did do that. You shared an apartment with Sam, and it wasn’t a massive ten-room palace.”
“That was different.”
“Why?”
She had no answer. Emmi had never considered the place they’d shared as what Digger had just suggested it had been.
“Who paid the rent?” he asked.
“We split it.”
“And the utilities? The groceries? All the other expenses?”
“We both took care of them.”
“Then you do know how others live.”
“Except that he was working and I was living off my inheritance.”
“You’re working now.”
“Only to get practical experience. I don’t need the money.”
“Emmi, being born to a wealthy family doesn’t make you less of a person.”
“She told me I should ask my father what my grandfather’s childhood was like. Then I would understand why he chose to hang out with gangsters. She used that word.”
“So ask him. Or, I could tell you. Donny and I both have similar backgrounds to your father’s.”
“I’ve heard enough stories over the years, but not a lot of detail. It’s not something my father and I talk about. Or my grandfather, for that matter.”
“I’m sure their experiences were close to the same. You grow up in a neighborhood in Brooklyn or Queens, or anyplace where most of the country lives. Your parents work. Maybe one of them even works two jobs to make ends meet. If your mother is home, she’s probably taking in work to help with expenses.”
“Like you said, most of the country lives that way.”
“Yes, and people, especially young ones, are still seduced by street punks who flash money, expensive cars, and bling.”
“So what makes the gangsters any different than the average drug dealer today?”
“Mobsters have a code they live by. A set of rules.”
“My father talks about that all the time.”
“And he’s right. It’s still organized. Not like the punks who kill for sport or go on random killing sprees. In Donny’s case, his mother died young and his father did his best to raise the kids, but there were only so many legitimate jobs to go around. Donny saw a way to bring in real money, and he took it. He was smart and learned fast. He rose quickly in the ranks, and he didn’t make stupid mistakes along the way like so many do.”
She nodded. “And you came along with him.”
“Yeah, I did. My parents died when I was fourteen, and my grandparents had died before then. I had no one left except Donny and his family. Donny’s father took me in. But I was one more mouth to feed that they couldn’t afford, so when the opportunity arose for me to do my part to help, I took it.”
Emmi knew about Digger’s grandparents and then his parents dying when he was still a teen, and that he’d grown up with Donny. But to hear him tell the story was more emotional than she had expected. Tears threatened.
“The killing was part of it. But we never went out and just started shooting people at random. We never did it for sport. It was a job, just like taking imported goods off the docks before they got to the warehouses, or taking our cut of cigarettes off the truck was.”
“And the people you killed … were they always enemies?’
“Not so much enemies as people who cheated a boss or stole from one. After they were given second and sometimes third chances. Surely your father has explained all this to you.”
“Not in so many words. I wasn’t kidding when I said we’ve never discussed it in great detail. But that seems a steep price to pay. Cheat someone out of money and you’re killed for it.”
“It’s serious shit. Serious money. If you don’t pay your mortgage, you lose your home.”
“But not your life.”
“Depends on who you owe the mortgage to.”
For a second, she thought he was serious, but the grin gave it away. She couldn’t help laughing with him. “Digger, I swear. You are completely charming, even when discussing the most morbid subjects.”
“I’d do anything to win your heart.”
She didn’t know what to say because he already had. But before she told him that, she needed to be sure. This was a big step. She’d only be
en in love once, and now she was no longer sure that had been real. She didn’t want to fuck this up. It was too important. Because that was what she wanted. She wanted to be in love with Digger, and she wanted to be absolutely certain before she told him.
Emmi had always viewed Digger as an older family friend, not a possible lover. But all that had changed now. He was her lover, and the age difference didn’t mean a damn thing. He hadn’t grown up in her world, but he certainly lived in it now. He ran in the same circles her family did. Both sides of her family.
And he adored her. That much was obvious, every day, all day long. Even living with Sam hadn’t been this emotional. This complete. Emmi had never felt so cherished. What she and Sam had together had been comfortable and familiar, but she’d always played second fiddle to his gigs, his compositions, his rehearsals.
“Where did you go just now?” Digger’s expression grew concerned, so she put her arms around him.
“I want to tell you something.” She told him about the Facebook picture, including what she’d felt while looking at it and reading the caption, and the fact that she’d blocked Sam afterward.
“Emmi, I am so proud of you.”
“I’m proud of me, too. It’s a huge step, isn’t it?”
“Yes, it is. Thank you.”
The relief on his face and in his tone almost brought tears to her eyes. They were in his condo and had been planning on grabbing lunch soon, but she was more hungry for him. Emmi kissed him, shoving her tongue into his mouth. She loved the way he groaned and pulled her closer, grinding his bulge against her body.
“You are the sexiest man alive.”
“And you are the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever seen.” He pulled off her top and unhooked her bra, releasing her boobs from it in record time. Emmi would have laughed, but she was too busy moaning as he rolled her nipples between his thumbs and forefingers the way she loved.
“You have such a perfect body. Lush and full.”
“You don’t think I’m too fat?”
“God, Emmi. I think you’re fucking perfect. When will you realize that?”
“I don’t know.”
“Believe it. Please.”
“Digger…” She bit her lip as the words “I think love you” nearly poured out. They had been right there, ready to simply tumble from her lips. When he kissed her again, all rational thought was gone, and she melted into his embrace.
He slid her to the floor and took off her jeans, taking panties, socks, and boots with them. He didn’t even take off his jeans. He merely took out his dick and pushed it inside her, right there on the carpet. Emmi didn’t mind. She wrapped her arms and legs around him and rocked her hips into his, crying out loudly when an orgasm approached.
She came so damn easily with him! It was almost unbelievable at times. Sex had never been this fun, this spontaneous, or this incredible. They clung to each other as he thrust in and out, the veins standing out on his neck and sweat forming on their bodies.
Emmi finally let the truth inside. The truth she’d known for a while now. She had fallen in love with this strong, sexy, charming man. How in the hell could she not?
“Oh, Digger!”
He cupped her face. “Emmi … my Emmi.”
The climax intensified again, and when it peaked, this time he came, too. Holding her close and whispering her name, over and over. Lunch was forgotten as they lay there, holding each other, for long, luscious moments.
Chapter Sixteen
Eight weeks after Sam left for California, and five weeks since the night of blizzard, Emmi and Digger were at her parents’ home. Her sisters were coming over for dinner later that evening. Mia had given birth to a baby boy they named Tony, after his grandfather, and her parents were ecstatic. Emmi mentally braced herself for an evening of watching a newborn make faces and cry.
“Won’t be too long before you give us a grandchild, too,” said her father, eyeing her and Digger over the top of his glasses. He was on his laptop, as usual. She and her mother were working on a blanket for little Tony, and Digger was reading a book.
It was such a cozy, family scene. One short month ago, she would have balked at it. Not so much now, except for that damn comment. “I’m not pregnant,” she said.
“First things first,” said Digger.
“What does that mean?” asked her father.
“It means I’m waiting for the right moment to ask Emmi to marry me.”
“I’m right here,” she said. “I can hear you and see you.” Digger’s comment to her parents sent a quick wave of fear through her, but also made her want to scream with happiness.
“What the hell are you waiting for?” When her father went into roaring mode, there was no talking to him.
“Everything is fine, Tony.” Not even Digger’s smooth voice could erase the frustration from her father’s face.
“If it was all right, she’d have a fucking diamond on her finger.”
Emmi looked toward her mother for help, but it only took one glance to realize it wasn’t coming. She dropped her gaze to the blanket and concentrated on the work instead.
“She’ll have it when the timing is right.”
Emmi opened her mouth to say something to him, because really, he should know better than to bait them like this, when Dottie, one of their staff, came into the room, followed by Sam. Everyone stared at him. Emmi gasped. Sweat broke out along her hairline. She had trouble breathing.
What the hell was he doing here? He looked like shit. Much less happy than he had in that stupid picture, and a lot thinner than when she’d last seen him. He also looked utterly defeated. Had Miss Skinny Ass dumped him already? But what the hell was he doing here?
“Sorry I didn’t call first.”
The emotions coursing through Emmi were overwhelming. Anger, old heartache, followed by nothing. Absolutely nothing. Shouldn’t she feel remorse, guilt, or longing? All she could do was glance from each of her parents to Digger, who looked at Sam like he desperately wanted to take him out back and shoot him. Or maybe he’d simply do it right here. Emmi wasn’t sure she’d try to stop him.
Dottie left the room, but Sam still stood there, staring at her with a look of agony on his face. “Can we talk?”
“Go ahead.” She sounded bitchy and cruel, but really … what was she supposed to do? Run into his arms?
“I meant alone.”
“This is as alone as we get in this house.”
“Emmi, don’t be rude,” said her mother. “Take Sam into another room so he can say what he came here to say to you.”
She shot her mother a nasty look, but stood anyway. She was being rude, and although she had every right to, she could at least listen to him. It must be important for him to have come home, and to drive all the way out here. Where was he staying? Their apartment was gone.
As she walked past Digger, she nearly stopped at the look of complete rage on his face. Not directed toward her, thank God. But if he could have killed Sam in that instant, he would have.
A shiver ran down her spine. Was that the expression his victims saw, right before their lives ended? Or, did they not even see his face?
“Come on,” she said to Sam. He reached for her hand, but she moved away so he couldn’t touch her. The fucking nerve of him! As soon as they were in the music room, she turned on him.
“What are you doing back in New York? Did that girl dump you already?’
He looked confused for a second. “Oh. Her. Yeah. That’s over.”
“Bummer.”
“Emmi, it bombed. The whole fucking thing. The band, the record deal we supposedly had, everything.” He ran a hand through his hair. That gesture used to evoke sympathy in her, but now all it did was leave her numb. He’d been gone for two months. What did it mean that she felt nothing for him now, after all the years they had been together? What kind of a person did that make her?
You already felt nothing when you saw the picture, because you’re in love with Digger.
“Sam, you posted that picture a week after you left. A week.”
“Did you hear me? It all fell apart.”
I thought it was a done deal,” she said. “I mean for fuck’s sake, Sam. You moved across the country. You gave up everything.”
“Including you. I was wrong. All of it was so wrong. I’m such an idiot.”
No. No fucking way. He did not get to do this to her after posting a picture of him and another girl one fucking week after her left her! “What happened with the record deal?”
“I was lied to. That’s what happened. They built it up into something it wasn’t. Once we got into the studio and recorded a demo, they wanted all these changes. All this shit that everyone else does now. That’s not what I went out there for. It’s not what I left my home and my life for.”
“Did you confront them about lying?”
“Oh yeah, right. And of course they denied it. They said they were up front with me about everything.”
The pieces were beginning to fall into place.
“And what did you say?”
“Big fight. Lots of arguing and finger-pointing.” He shot her a guilty look. “I lost my temper and told them all to go fuck themselves.”
“So, it was more a matter of you disagreeing with the others than of anything related to breaking a contract.”
He gave her a droll look. “Guess you’re still in law school.”
“Of course I’m still in law school, Sam. That wasn’t a fluke.”
“And you and me? Was that a fluke?”
Emmi had to dig her nails into palms to keep from lunging at him. Hot, white anger filled her. “Are you fucking kidding me? Do you have any idea how much you broke my heart when you made me choose? Twelve years. I gave you twelve years of my life, and you left me! For a goddamn band! And then you post a picture of you and another girl, and tell the whole fucking world how much you don’t miss New York, or me, and how great your fucking life is!”
