by Sam Mariano
“Am I allowed to date?”
“Of course. Adrian will have to check out anyone you’re interested in, obviously.” He pauses to look at my baby bump. “Might want to wait until after he’s born, unless you have your eye on Alec. Anyone outside the family could potentially target you to get to my heir.”
I can’t bite back a smile at the ridiculousness of it all. “You’re cool with me dating your brother now.”
Mateo shrugs, pushing his chair in. “I don’t think you’re his type, but you’re persuasive. It would make both our lives easier if you kept it in the family.”
“This is insane. You’re insane.”
He flashes me a little smile. “You knew that.”
It’s the strangest thing to feel good right now, but I like Mateo being honest with me. I like having back the friendly camaraderie that’s been missing between us for months. In the weirdest way, it feels like breaking up is the best thing we could have possibly done for our relationship. I’m no longer one more burden on his shoulders, there’s no longer pressure on him to feel something he doesn’t and uphold duties he’s no longer interested in.
I wish we would’ve had this conversation before they went to the Bahamas. I wish he would’ve confessed his truth sooner.
I wish I would’ve told Vince not to come back to the bakery, to move on with his life. I wish I would have told Mia to stay home that morning, just in case he didn’t listen.
Most of all, I hope Mateo never finds out about my involvement. He may be amicable now, but if he ever finds out I helped Vince take Mia away from him, I am fucked.
And now for a SNEAK PEEK OF Last Words (Morelli Family, #7)!
Chapter One
Vince
I shouldn’t be alive.
I don’t mean to be dramatic; it’s just the simple fucking truth. I don’t know why I’m alive. There’s no logical explanation, and I’ve run through ‘em all. I’m not suicidal or anything (though I guess you could guess otherwise looking at my track record) I just know how life works. I know the rules, I broke them on purpose, and yet, here I am, beating heart and all. I figure I won’t be for much longer. I’m not doing much to hide now. I left Vegas and moved east, found a place in Connecticut of all places, and now I wait. I know he’ll find me, I just don’t know what’s taking him so fucking long. I don’t even dread it; I just dread all the waiting. A time or two I’ve considered skipping this part and going back to Chicago.
It’s too much like giving up, though. He’s clearly won, and once he finds me he’ll put a bullet through my skull, but I should at least make the motherfucker work for it.
The sky outside is starting to get brighter. I guess I should get out of here and head back to my apartment. I tried to sleep, but I can’t sleep next to this random woman. I don’t even know why I came home with her. Every encounter makes me feel emptier.
I don’t so much as glance at her as I climb off her bed and start gathering up my clothes off the ground. My shirt ended up on her dresser, half hanging off, half covering a picture frame. I retrieve my shirt and right the picture frame, cocking my head when I recognize the woman in the picture as the woman I spent the night with—not so strange, given this is her bedroom. A little less expected is the wedding dress she’s wearing, and the smiling prick in the tuxedo with his arm wrapped around her.
Well, shit.
I guess I didn’t ask if she was married, but that still kind of pisses me off.
I still don’t glance back at her. Shaking my head, I pull my shirt on and make my way across the bedroom, easing the door open and slipping out.
Old instincts compel me to do a sweep, ever vigilant, so my eyes go straight to the line of light beneath the bathroom door. I pause and glance back at the bedroom. Maybe I should step back inside. Can’t be her husband; she had no problem letting me fall asleep in her bed, so she couldn’t have been worried he’d come home. Unless she wanted to get caught. Maybe I was a pawn in some marital tiff. That would be mightily fucking inconvenient. I don’t especially feel like fighting anyone today, and if I did, it damn sure wouldn’t be over this woman.
Before I can make a decision, the door opens. A blond-haired little girl comes out of the bathroom. She’s wearing cupcake pajamas. She stops when she sees me standing in the hall, her little blue eyes widening. Almost immediately her surprise is replaced with confused disapproval as she furrows her little brow at me, narrowing her eyes suspiciously.
“Who are you?”
Well, shit.
“Tooth fairy,” I finally say.
Her suspicion clears, replaced with a tentative eagerness. “You’re the tooth fairy? I thought the tooth fairy was a girl.”
“Yeah, well, we’re modernizing. Are you the one who lost a tooth?”
Her tiny hand comes up to her mouth. “No, I didn’t lose a tooth. I think one is gonna be wiggling soon, though. My mom read me a book about the tooth fairy.”
I nod, reaching into my pocket and drawing out my phone. I make a show of tapping the screen. “No teeth lost. Got it. I’ll update the records.”
“I didn’t think the tooth fairy had a cell phone,” she tells me, looking me over. “I don’t think that’s how you should dress, either. There should be more sparkle.”
“Well, I’m still in training. I’m sure I’ll have something snazzier once I’m a full-blown tooth fairy.”
She nods like this makes sense.
I nod, glancing at the end of the hall. “All right, well, you should probably get back to bed,” I tell her.
“You probably have more houses to visit, huh?”
“Yep.”
She nods, offering me a big smile. “I can’t believe I met the tooth fairy.”
I don’t really know how to play this. I’m tempted to tell her she probably shouldn’t mention it to anyone, but I’m not sure it’s a great idea for a strange man to advise a little girl to keep secrets. It’s also not my responsibility to cover up her mom’s infidelity.
This whole situation reminds me of Mia. This blond-haired, blue-eyed little girl could easily be her daughter. Mia could easily be the mom reading her stories about tooth fairies. I could even be the stupid asshole in the picture with her, grinning like a brainless sap on our wedding day. I used to think if I could just drag her away from Mateo, Mia could be faithful, but then I brought her to Vegas and Rafe swooped in. A complete fucking stranger, no twisted hold on her, and still she pulled her shit. I could’ve never trusted her to stay faithful.
I could be the absent asshole out there somewhere whose wife is fucking someone else at home while our kid sleeps down the hall.
Now I’m feeling surly as hell, so I’m done talking to this kid. As I walk past, I ruffle her hair.
“Hey,” she says, like she’s offended, but she’s smiling at me like a playmate.
“Get to bed,” I tell her amiably over my shoulder.
I guess she does. Maybe not. Whatever happens in this house after I leave, I don’t need to know; I’ll never step foot inside it again.
I slip out the front door and head to my car. I’m parked in her driveway for all the world to see. Across the street, a woman stares at me, robe clutched around her body, holding a newspaper in her hand. Well, she’s probably not gonna believe I’m the tooth fairy.
Last Words (Morelli Family, #7)
PRE-ORDER HERE!
About the Author
Sam Mariano loves to write edgy, twisty reads with complicated characters you’re left thinking about long after you turn the last page. Her favorite thing about indie publishing is the ability to play by your own rules! If she isn’t reading one of the thousands of books on her to-read list, writing her next book, or playing with her adorable preschooler… actually, that’s about all she has time for these days.
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