“It was easier to sneak porn at his house.”
“Oh my God. I’d forgotten all about the filthy movie that was playing on the TV—oh no!” She covered her face with her hands. “Just when I believed I’d never fully repress the traumatic memory that’s burned into my brain, you resurrect a part of it I’d blessedly been able to forget—damn you!”
“You know you’re much more coherent when you’re talking about my cock.”
“There isn’t enough liquor in the world to stay drunk through that memory.”
He laughed when she swatted his arm. “I was a fourteen-year-old kid. Of course I was rubbing one out every place I went. The bathroom. The swimming pool. The library. I couldn’t even walk past the goddamn mannequins at Macy’s without popping a stiffy, for fuck’s sake.”
“Did you do that in his room more than one time?”
“All. The. Time.”
Stella bust out laughing, drawing another chuckle from him as he cut her a playful look from the corners of his eyes.
He shrugged. “Gotta do what you gotta do, that’s all I have to say.”
“Well, I’ll tell you one thing, you’d better be thanking your lucky stars that you shot up two feet between freshman and senior year because if what I saw in the pool house was any indication you’ve definitely grown…” Her words trailed away when her eyes instinctively fell to his lap, where the erection he’d almost forgotten he had was still ever-present against his sweats. “And I mean grown… since then.”
His eyes followed hers to his lap, and he licked his lips as he covered his hardness with his forearm once more. He looked toward the door where escape was still just a few steps away. He told himself to move.
But he cut a look at her instead.
Her hooded eyes were there to catch his. The deep gaze lingered for several long moments.
Something passed through him that made his whole body ache.
Her eyes began to flutter closed, breath slowing as sleepiness began to overtake her. A gentle smile remained on her face even as she fell into a slumber with a sigh. Now that she’d finally stopped fighting bedtime with a stubbornness not even Blue had ever displayed, he was free from that conversation. Free to sneak out and resume their lives in the morning as two people who could barely tolerate one another.
His voice came in a whisper instead. “Who’s Paul?”
Her eyes blinked open. “Hmm?”
“Paul. In the driveway, you said that, when I carried you outta the bar tonight, you didn’t get a chance to say goodbye to Paul.”
“He’s… just… some guy.”
“Some guy?”
“Yeah. Some guy. You’re not the only one who knows how to swipe right on Tinder, you know.”
His eyes lowered. “You gonna see him again?”
When she didn’t answer, his jaw rolled under his skin, palms growing slick as he clenched his fisted hands on either side of her. He looked back up at her from under the shadowed hood of his brow bone, making his green orbs border on black.
She blushed, looking down. “DJ kinda laid into me at Charlie’s tonight. Thinks there’s something going on between us.” Her eyes slowly rose back to his, voice lowering. “But I told her that’s crazy…” Her gaze searched his. “Right?”
He tried to answer, but his lips wouldn’t move.
Silence spun.
“Right—” his voice broke, and he cleared his throat. “Right.”
Her shoulders sank, lips pulling into a tight smile. “Right.”
Their eyes remained locked as the room grew quieter than it had been all night—because they’d both stopped breathing.
Eyebrows pinching, she nibbled her bottom lip.
His eyes fell to watch, darkening.
“He took a bullet for you.”
Justin’s voice rocketed through his mind—the same way that very hot bullet almost had his skull—and Rocco shot to his feet.
She drew in a sharp breath at his sudden retreat, eyes widening up at him.
He frowned at her. “Go to sleep.”
This time, when he turned and made his way toward the door, Stella didn’t stop him.
13
“Your uncle Rock did something really stupid last night.” Rocco held a tiny spoonful of mashed carrots up to Blue’s mouth the next morning, even as she sealed her lips shut, sitting in her high chair, clutching Mr. Wiggles to her chest. “Told her how I felt about you. Told her she was beautiful. Told her a lot of things, actually. Shouldn’t have done that. Big mistake. Can you… can you help me out, or…?”
Lips still drawn, refusing to open her mouth for the food, Blue shook her head back and forth. Wearing only a diaper, it crinkled as she thrashed, holding on to Mr. Wiggles by a prayer over the edge of her feeding table.
Sitting on the edge of a chair next to the Blue’s high chair, Rocco placed the spoon back into the small food jar in his lap with a sigh, mixing it up a little more before re-filling the spoon again. This time Blue did open her mouth when he guided it to her lips, but she spat it back out a second later, the orange glob dripping down her chin.
He caught it with the spoon. “Maybe she won’t remember. She was pretty trashed, right?”
“Da.” Blue smiled.
The color drained from Rocco’s face, the spoon in his hands freezing on the bottom of her grinning lip.
“Da?” Blue kicked.
“No, no…” Rocco pointed to himself. “Rock. Rocco.”
“Wak?”
“Yeah, Rock.” The heart he hadn’t even realized had stopped in mid-beat resumed pounding once more. “Uncle Rocco.”
“Wak!” She squealed, shoving both her fists—which were apparently much more appetizing than the slop on that spoon—into her mouth. She gnawed on her fingers with the two front teeth that had just started peeking out of her gums. An act she still found more soothing than the dozens of teething rings and toys he and Stella had brought home over the weeks.
Just as Rocco gave up on the mashed carrots and handed Blue the warm bottle he’d been purposely hiding behind his back in the chair instead, Stella came barreling down the stairs wearing an all-black uniform that reminded Rocco of hospital scrubs. Her hair was pulled into a sleek high bun, showcasing a face with minimal make-up. A pair of classic diamond stud earrings dotted each of her ears, and she had a duffle bag slung over her arm instead of a purse.
“Far cry from pigtails and a schoolgirl uniform,” he teased, looking up at her playfully even as his stomach hit the floor at the sight of her. He waited for her to bring up the night before, then he realized he couldn’t wait. “Listen, about last night—”
“God, I was so gone.” She didn’t even look at him, too busy grabbing a banana from the kitchen island and scarfing it down like it was her last meal. “Please tell me I didn’t do anything stupid? Or say anything stupid. God, what did I say? No, don’t tell me. I don’t wanna know. Probably some crazy stuff but, whatever it was, just forget it happened, okay? And if I touched your penis or anything, I’m really sorry. I’m a different person when I drink.”
“So you don’t remember… anything?”
“At all. You can take the girl outta the sorority…” She chuckled without finishing.
He sucked in a breath when his heart skipped a beat. “You won’t believe it. Blue just said her first word.”
She froze in mid-chew, eyes expanding. “She said mama?”
“Nope. Rock.”
“Dirty, ugly, vicious lies.”
He lowered his shining eyes to Blue who smiled around the nipple of her bottle. “Rock.” He pointed to himself while raising his eyebrows. “Rock… Rock… Rock…?”
Blue giggled as he said his name in various different tones and inflections.
“Uncle Rock…” he said slowly.
Stella motioned to Blue with a roll of her eyes. “She obviously didn’t—”
“Wak!” Blue cried.
Stella cried out too—in horror—and raced aroun
d the table, leaning over the back of Rocco’s chair. “She did not say—”
“Wak!” Blue beamed again.
Stella motioned to her. “She’s obviously saying wok. Like an Asian wok.”
“You don’t even know how to turn on the goddamn stove, Armstrong, and she’s supposed to know what a wok is? The only wok she’s even been exposed to in her life is the one in the open kitchen at the sushi restaurant across the street. And even then your lazy ass has only ever ordered takeout from them anyway. She’s saying Rock, not wok, because she loves her uncle, and that’s final.”
“First of all, I do know how to operate my stove, thank you very much. Or have you already forgotten the delicious breakfast I was kind enough to prepare for you the day after you moved in, only to be stunned and defiled by the scene I was assaulted with in my guesthouse?”
“I saw the sad state of affairs those scrambled eggs and toast were in, all dry and charred, laying in the grass after you threw that tray and ran for your life.”
Stella dismissed him with a wave and looked back at Blue, pointing to herself, cooing to Blue. “Mama.”
Blue’s eyes widened up at her mother, her smile falling as her tiny mouth stilled around the nipple of the bottle.
Stella’s teeth clenched at the silence. “Mama…?”
Blue blinked.
“Mama…? Ma-ma…? MAMA!” Stella shrieked.
Rocco squinted one eye, pressing his finger into his eardrum.
“Come on, baby,” Stella begged. “Just once, for me? Huh?” She raised her eyebrows. “Ma-ma?… Mama?… Maaamaaa…?”
Blue opened her mouth to speak, smiling at Stella.
Stella nodded. “Mama—”
“Wak?” Blue squeaked.
Rocco exploded into laughter.
Stella huffed so hard flames nearly blazed from her nostrils, like a bull ready to be released from the pen. When Rocco’s laughter only intensified, causing him to lean sideways in his seat, she almost slapped him upside the head.
“Wak!” Blue’s eyes shone up at Stella.
“Yes, baby, wok.” Stella nodded. “Woks are magical, bowl-shaped, commercial-grade pans that are great for stir-frying veggies and chow mien noodles.”
Rocco chortled.
“The same chow mien noodles that I, your mother, have chewed up and fed to you on many occasions. How many servings of delicious Asian cuisine has your uncle Rocco chewed up just so you can enjoy some real food right alongside him and not this mashed carrot crap he’s been trying to shove down your throat all morning?”
“Jealousy is so ugly.” Rocco breathed, looking at Blue in amazement.
“Whatever, I don’t have time for your delusions.” She snatched up his car keys from the middle of the table.
“Whoa, whoa—where you going? I told you I’d take you to pick up your car at Charlie’s. I need the truck for work.”
Stella froze in the midst of racing to the door, swiveling on her heel. “You’re staying with Blue today.”
“No. Blue’s going to daycare today. Then I’m going to work.”
The color drained from Stella’s face. “My god, you really are completely incapable of listening to a word any woman says when you’re not in between her thighs! I told you last night that the daycare said it was too late to change Blue’s schedule. That they’re already overbooked and can’t take her today. You said it’d be okay!”
Rocco cursed under his breath. He vaguely recalled Stella telling him something about Blue’s daycare when she’d left for the bar the night before, but he’d also been in the midst of studying the tight jeans, patent leather heels, and crop top that she’d squeezed her body into as well. The same jeans and crop top she’d eventually be peeling off her body, hours later, right in front of him.
His licked his parched lips.
“Well, the good news is that this is your screw up for once, not mine.” She shrugged. “So you’re just gonna have to take her to work with you, I guess.”
“Take her to work with me. At a police precinct. That’s wise.”
“Take her to her grandparent’s then,” she said, referring to her in-laws.
“Still on vacation.”
“DJ.”
“Pool party at the day club.”
“Then you’re fresh outta options. What’s the big deal? I know you don’t have any big ops today because Justin already posted a picture of his study journal on Instagram with a caption about it being a quiet day at the precinct to study, so… he can pick you up on his lunch break or something.”
“No.”
“This is your fault, Rocco, so you need to figure out how to fix it.”
“Look, there’re no ops, but I’m leading a huge briefing today. One that could pave the way to a serious promotion and a massive raise if all goes well. My boss will be watching. I can’t take her.”
“So set her car seat up in the back of the briefing room, give her Mr. Wiggles and a warm bottle, and she’ll be quiet as a church mouse.” When he continued watching her like she was crazy, she sighed. “Rocco, if I miss my first day on the job, I won’t have a job anymore, which means you’ll have to continue taking care of all three of us with zero financial help to cover the rent and bills. So… which problem is more pressing, yours or mine? If you’re as sick of taking care of Blue and me as I imagine you are, it should be an easy decision. 50/50 right? Isn’t that your motto?”
He held her eyes across the room, a long silence filtering in. Then, as if a string was tied to his intense green orbs with an undertow on the other end, his gaze careened down into his lap.
As the silence carried on, a soft frown crossed her face. “Besides… what’s the point of a promotion if you’re just going to jump ship the moment the FBI says yes again anyway?”
His eyes shot back up to hers.
“What’s the point?” She shifted under his gaze. “If… if you’re just gonna leave again?”
“A raise is a raise.” His chest swelled. “Besides, the FBI may never say yes again after I’ve given them my ass to kiss—twice.”
He waited for the memory to flash across her face. Of all the things he’d told her the night before. Had she really been so wasted she had no memory of their conversation at all? Of anything that had happened on that bed upstairs? His stomach seemed to tighten and relax all at once as if his body couldn’t decide which scenario would be worse. He studied her for any hint of recollection.
Nothing came. Her face remained unmoving. “So, if the FBI said yes… for a third time…” She paused. “You’d go?”
He went to answer, but no words came.
At his silence, she took a healthy step away from him, drawing in a breath. “I have to go…” Her voice broke. “I’m late.”
He tried to speak once more, but she turned away from him before he could, running toward the door as fast as he legs would allow.
——
Every time Stella felt the car falling below 50 miles per hour—ten miles above the posted limit—she reminded herself that Rocco would say yes. If the FBI gave him another chance, he wouldn’t hesitate. He would pack up and leave her and Blue without a second thought. She couldn’t blame him, so she embraced the way that fact tied her stomach in a knot instead, and put the pedal to the floor. Her eyes darted between the road and the clock on the dashboard of his truck as it blazed down the highway.
He’d helped her get back on her feet. Now it was up to her to stay there. To make money on her own for the first time in her life. To prosper alone until she no longer had to use him as a crutch. Until she no longer had to worry about her knees caving in under her the moment he removed his support and left.
And he would leave.
Eventually.
She blazed down the highway, with five minutes to get to her first day on the job and, according to the GPS on the dashboard, she had fifteen-minutes of the journey left. The GPS assured her it was the fastest route to the spa, which meant she had no choice but the break e
very speed limit in the county to get there on time. She’d be damned if she was late on her first day. Worse case scenario, she’d get a ticket that Rocco would clean up. Hell, the cop that pulled her over might even recognize her on sight and let her go with a slap on the hand.
Thankfully, she didn’t have to worry about either of those scenarios because she made it to the parking lot of the spa only five minutes late. Snatching her duffle bag from the passenger’s seat, her cheeks already heated from the embarrassment late on her first day, she raced across the parking lot to Majesty Day Spa.
The sprawling two-story, all-inclusive spa was located at the tail-end of New Jersey’s largest luxury mall, which housed the kind of designer stores that ensured most blue-collar workers kept right on driving past. It was a far cry from the seedy parlor Rocco had carried her out of all those months ago, and she tried to remind herself that she was worthy. Worthy of a great job in a high-end area. Worthy of the opportunity to work toward the dream she hadn’t even known had been her dream until the night before when Rocco had asked her what it was.
It had been the first time he’d ever asked her such a serious, curious question. Genuinely. Un-ironically. Butterflies tickled her stomach at the very thought, and she clenched her teeth the moment they did.
Because he was leaving.
So she cleared her mind and picked up speed in her race toward the spa.
The spa’s exterior was all glass and sharp angles, giving the outside world full view of the state-of-the-art lobby, modern finishes and beautiful, calming decor inside. The entire spa was stark white, including all the furniture, with flashes of fuchsia sprinkled all over in the form of lily flowers, throw pillows, and even the soft pink sign that lined the top of the building.
White had always been such a calming color for Stella, which was why she’d decorated her entire bedroom in much the same way, but when she pulled open the front door of the spa and raced inside, the sight that met her was anything but calming. Not even the scent of lavender, eucalyptus, and chamomile that filtered into her flared nostrils was enough to ease her bones. There was no scent she loved more than the smell of a spa—like walking through a forest after a storm—but at that moment, it only made her stomach turn.
Forbidden (War Book 1) Page 15
