KYLE: A Mafia Romance (The Callahans Book 4)

by Glenna Sinclair

  “Kyle,” Jack called boisterously. “This must be your beautiful bride.”

  “This is Amelia,” Kyle said, actually tugging me closer to his side as Jack approached.

  “It’s nice to meet you, Amelia,” Jack said. “This is my wife, Caroline.”

  “Lovely to meet you,” Caroline said, her voice a little dreamy, as though she’d met a lot of people over the years that she never really cared much about.

  But Jack, he was clearly a bit more interested in the situation than his wife was. His eyes moved over me, lingering on my bodice a little longer than it should have. And then he smiled, and there was something in his eyes that made me feel a little uncomfortable.

  “You did well, Kyle,” he said without asking me a single question. “I think I understand everything now.”

  The man walked away and began to laugh, a low laugh that sent shivers of disgust up and down my spine.

  “What was that about?”

  Kyle shook his head. “Ignore him. He’s just acting like a dirty old man.”

  “The way he looked at me…”

  “I know, babe.” Kyle lifted my chin and kissed me lightly. “Don’t let him upset you. He’s been drinking.”

  A second ago, I didn’t think I could ignore such behavior. But now, with the way Kyle was looking at me, and the promise in his kiss, it became the easiest thing in the world. He started to turn away, but I grabbed his lapel and pulled him back into me. There was surprise in his eyes, but then he was kissing me, his lips moving slowly over mine, his body slowly swallowing me up. He ran his hand down my back, his exploration taking him briefly over my hip. There was a deep slit in the side of the dress that was only revealed when I took long strides—which I’d been trying not to do—but his fingers found it and slipped underneath, moving to places where it was probably not advisable to visit in such a crowded room. And what he found made him gasp a little as he pulled back to look me in the eye.

  “You’re not wearing…”

  “You told me not to.”

  He stared at me for a long minute. Then a long, pleased smile slipped over his face.

  “I like when you obey me.”

  “Obey?”

  He moved closer and pulled my bottom lip between his teeth, nibbling for a long second. I think he might have said something else, but we were interrupted by more well-wishers who wanted to welcome me into the fold.

  He was right about the judgmental thing. I overheard a couple of women complaining that I wasn’t his type. And some older woman said something about the trashiness of my dress. But, for the most part, they all seemed really pleased to see Kyle married and settled down.

  I snuck away after an hour or so to find a bathroom. I didn’t need to use the facilities, I just needed a minute to catch my breath. I washed my hands just to have something to do. Then I looked at myself in the mirror and barely recognized the woman who looked back at me. The dark shadows that had been so persistent under my eyes these last few years were gone. And there was color on my cheeks where I was pale almost constantly. The frown lines weren’t as permanent as I’d been afraid they would be and the dark cloud that had been following me around wasn’t as persistent as it could have been.

  I was looking into the face of a woman who was happy. I couldn’t remember the last time this face had been truly happy.

  I wanted to tell Kyle that. I wanted to tell Kyle that he was the reason I no longer looked like death warmed over. I wanted him to know how much I adored him and how good I felt whenever he looked at me the way he did. There were so many things I wanted to tell him. But there was this little part of me that was afraid that if I told him these things, I would lose the money that would solve all my problems and I would lose the man I was quickly falling in love with. I wasn’t sure I could survive the loss of both.

  I stepped out of the bathroom and nearly walked into someone coming up the short hallway.

  “Sorry,” I said, stepping back just as he reached out to catch my arms.

  “It’s not a bad thing to catch a beautiful woman in my arms.”

  I smiled, but the smile faltered as I focused on my savior’s face and realized I recognized it. This was Brian Callahan.

  The man who destroyed my family.

  I think the realization of who he was holding hit him about the same moment.

  “Wallace,” he said softly. “You’re April’s daughter.”

  I pulled away and started to turn, but he grabbed my arm again.

  “You are her, aren’t you?”

  “Amelia,” I said softly. “Daughter of Robert and April Clark Wallace.”

  He nodded. “Your mother was a friend of mine.”

  His use of the word friend hit me hard in the stomach. I stared at him, aware that my eyes were narrowing, aware that he could see the anger building inside of me.

  “Is that what you call it? Friendship?”

  He tilted his head slightly. “I don’t know what you’ve been told—”

  “You ruined my family. If not for you, my parents would still be together and my father would be healthy and happy.”

  Confusion danced in his green eyes. I watched him, aware on some level that he was a handsome man. I could see what would attract my mother to him. But that was on a level that was far behind the ratcheting anger in my chest. I’d imagined what I would say to the man who destroyed my family. Rehearsed in mirrors, actually. Even whispered it to my father during some of the most difficult moments in his healthcare these last few years. But now that I was actually face to face with him, I didn’t know what to say.

  “You’re Kyle’s new bride, right?” He let go of my arm, but he moved closer, looking at me as though he’d just realized that I was a human being who demanded some attention. “Amelia. He told us about you.”

  “But he wouldn’t have mentioned who my mother was because I haven’t told him what you did.”

  “What did I do?”

  My mouth fell open. I stared at him, wondering how he could ask such a question.

  “You had an affair with my mother.”

  Brian’s eyebrows rose. “Where did you get that idea?”

  “From my mother. She told my father and they got divorced over it.”

  He cocked his head slightly, the wheels clearly turning quite quickly in his head. Then he did the last thing I expected him to do. He threw his head back and laughed.

  “This is funny to you?”

  “Of course not,” he said, catching himself, but still indulging a few chuckles. “I just…your mother worked for me for a brief time six years ago. Just after my wife died. She was staying here with a friend.”

  “She said she met you on a business trip.”

  “She met me while she was here visiting a friend. She stood in for my personal assistant a couple of times and we became friends.”

  “More than friends.”

  He shook his head. “I hate to be the one to tell you, sweetheart, but I wasn’t your mother’s type.” He took my arm again and leaned close to me. “My wife had just died. I hadn’t been with anyone but Abigail in a long time and I wasn’t in a hurry to move on. An affair was the last thing I was thinking about.”

  “No…”

  “Maybe she used me as an excuse to get out of a marriage gone bad?”

  “No!” The anger was back with a rush, pushing away the confusion his words had introduced. “My mother wouldn’t have done that. She loved us.”

  “You can love the people in your life and still need to have something for yourself. You should go talk to her, child. Go find out why she lied to you.”

  I started to shake my head even as his words penetrated a wall I’d put up long ago. I didn’t want to remember my mom, the sadness I saw in her, the dark days of depression when she would go lock herself in her room and not come out for weeks at a time. I locked all of that away because I wanted to be angry with her. I wanted to blame her for everything that went wrong because someone other than my fr
ail father had to be to blame.

  “I don’t know where she is,” I finally said, the words coming slowly.

  Brian’s expression softened. “Was it really that bad?”

  I didn’t want him to console me, not this man whom I’d blamed for the destruction of my family for so long. I stepped back from him, from the possibility of his touch.

  “She lives here in Boston.”

  I shook my head, shook it so hard I could feel some of the pins coming loose in my hair. “That’s not possible.”

  “When you’re ready, you come find me, and I’ll give you the address.” He came close to me again, touching my arm just ever so lightly. “Kyle’s happy. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever seen him quite this happy in all the time I’ve known him. For that, I owe you just about anything you could possibly ask for. So, if you want to blame me for your parents’ divorce, you do that. If you want to blame for the sky being blue, you do that, too. But believe me when I say that there is a bigger explanation to all this that only your mother can offer you.”

  He walked away, humming under his breath.

  I didn’t know what to do. I wanted to scream. I wanted to cry.

  And I wanted to believe him.

  Chapter 17

  Kyle

  “She’s good with the baby,” Brianna said. She was hanging on my shoulder, peeking around me to watch Amelia hold Killian and Stacy’s son. At three months old, the kid was just beginning to realize there was a world outside of sleep and his mother’s breast. He was reaching for Amelia’s nose, making these soft little noises as she talked to him in one of those voices adults make when they’re playing with an infant.

  “Aren’t all women?” Kevin asked.

  “Not necessarily,” Ian said. “Some women have no maternal instinct at all.”

  “Like who?”

  He shrugged. “I’ve dated a couple of corporate-minded women who couldn’t care less about small children.”

  “That’s too bad.”

  Kevin ran his hand over Brianna’s shoulder before heading out onto the back porch where most of the party had gathered. It was late—and many of the guests had left. Those who remained were mostly family, gathered around the porch furniture, sharing in the free-flowing champagne and booze that was available from the small bar.

  Amelia had seemed a little distant for the last few hours, going through the motions but not really engaging in the party. I caught her throwing glances at Pops from time to time, as though there was something going on between them. And when I finally got the chance to introduce them—Pops had to stay late at the office, so he arrived late—there was tension radiating from Amelia that I could have felt even if my eyes were closed.

  But now, now she seemed to have returned to the happy, relaxed woman she’d been earlier in the evening. The contentment on her face as she talked to the baby made her even more beautiful than she’d been before. If that was possible.

  “It’s a lovely sight, a woman holding a baby.” Pops set his hand on my shoulder. “Does it scare you a little?”

  I shook my head. “Not as much as I thought it might.”

  “You’d be a good father.”

  I grunted. “I don’t know about that. But it doesn’t matter, really. We haven’t even reached that point where we’ve talked about it.”

  “When you do, remember this moment.”

  Pops moved around me, calling out to Cassidy. She immediately stood and went to him, melting in his arms as he kissed her. I couldn’t remember Abigail ever acting like that around us kids. She was a conservative woman. She believed there was a time and a place for everything. Public displays of affection were not something she believed in. But Cassidy didn’t mind. Love radiated from her face whenever she looked at Pops. And I, personally, was happy for him. Every man should have a woman look at him that way.

  Someone turned on some music, something a little more upbeat than the classics that had been playing during the party. I walked over to Amelia and wrapped my hand around the back of her neck.

  “He’s amazing, isn’t he?” she asked, beaming up at me.

  “He’s something.”

  She smiled as she focused on the baby again. “It’s been a long time since I’ve held a baby. I’d forgotten how good it could feel.”

  “It’s pretty amazing, isn’t it?” Stacy asked, beaming at her son. “I never imagined I’d be happy sitting at home, alone with an infant. But now…I can’t imagine doing anything else.”

  “Now you know the secret to keeping your wife happy,” Killian called from across the porch.

  I kissed the side of Amelia’s head. “There are lots of ways to keep a wife happy.”

  Everyone laughed, but Amelia. She simply blushed, burying her head in the baby. But then he began to fuss, so Stacy took him inside to feed him. I led Amelia to one of the chairs set around the glass table where everyone else had settled and pulled her down onto my lap. She turned into me, resting her head on my shoulder. I slid my hand over her thigh, the split allowing my fingers to brush her bare flesh. The knowledge that she wasn’t wearing any panties came back and my thoughts began to move to things that probably weren’t appropriate here in front of my siblings and my parents.

  “Here’s to Kyle and Amelia,” my father called, holding up a tumbler of whiskey. “May the wind always be at your back and the sun on your faces. May you always find happiness in one another. May you have a whole houseful of children who bring you as much joy as my children have brought me.”

  Cheers rose up around the table. Amelia giggled against my shoulder, but then she sat up and accepted the glass of champagne Killian handed her so that we could join the toast. She took a slow sip, then I did, touching my lips to the same place on the rim of the glass as she’d done. As I did, I slid my hand under her dress, pressing my fingers between her thighs. Her eyes widened when my hand brushed her bare cunt, but she didn’t make any effort to move my hand in any other direction.

  I finished the champagne and pulled her close, kissing her with the taste of it still on my tongue. She surprised me by sucking my tongue just a little, taking as much of the flavor as she dared. I squeezed her thigh, moving my hand away before I did something that would embarrass us both.

  “Let’s go home,” she whispered against my lips.

  No one seemed surprised when we stood and offered our thanks and good nights. It seemed like an incredibly long walk to the car—even though it was only a few hundred yards. Instead of opening the door, I pressed her against it and captured her lips again. She wrapped her arms around my neck, holding me steady against her as we explored each other, as she did the most amazing things that I’m sure she’d never done before. Her innocence and inexperience was like an aphrodisiac. Not only was she so sweet in her slight hesitation, but the idea that I was the first one she’d ever done this with made it feel like something powerful, something incredibly important.

  I pressed a knee between her legs, forced that split along her leg to open up. And then her ass was in my hand, her bare ass, so firm and delicious that I couldn’t get enough of it. But then my fingers brushed the moistness between her legs, and my heart started to pound. There was so much I wanted to do to her, so many things I wanted to teach her. And so many things I was hoping she’d want to share with me.

  But I wanted to take my time. I didn’t want to ruin it all by getting too carried away here, in my father’s driveway.

  I popped the door open and pushed her inside while our mouths were still touching, pushing her away before I could change my mind.

  I think I got that car well over a hundred several times on the drive home. It’s a miracle we didn’t get in an accident or pulled over by some over ambitious cop.

  We stepped onto the elevator, and I pushed the button for the third floor even as I trapped her against the wall, moving right back to where we’d been moments before. I lifted her to just the right height and pressed myself hard against her. The friction…oh, my! I fe
lt like a teenager trying to cop a feel in the movie theater. I’d never been this eager, never been this nervous. I’d never wanted a woman so much, and I’d never been so afraid that I would disappoint her in some way.

  The door opened, and I carried her to the bedroom, falling with her when my shins hit the bed frame. She giggled, but there was as much need in her eyes as I’m sure there was in mine.

  I kissed her throat and ran my hands over the underside of her breasts, helping them out of that dress…finally. I’d wanted to do this all night, and it was almost a spiritual moment when I finally tugged one of her nipples into my mouth and held it there, rolling it gently between tongue and teeth. She tugged at my jacket, rising with me so that I didn’t have to let go of her as I shrugged out of it. But I did have to pull away to remove my shirt and the undershirt she had so diligently left out for me. She watched me as I undressed, her eyes moving over the tattoos she’d seen the day before, the bruises that had grown darker and wider overnight. I loved the look in her eyes, as if she was staring at a perfect piece of cheesecake that she wanted to devour.

  I leaned over her and kissed her, as I reached behind to tug at the zipper on her dress. She blushed as I pulled back to tug the dress from her naked body. All night there’d been nothing more than that thin material covering her beauty. The idea was enough to drive me insane.

  I pressed my face to her belly and tasted the wrinkled edges of her navel. I kissed her hips and thought about taking a nice sip of her juices. But I’d waited long enough. I didn’t think I could wait a moment longer.

  “Tell me you want me,” I whispered against her lips as I lay over her again. “Tell me this isn’t just me, that you want this, too.”

  “I want you,” she whispered.

  I stared into her eyes for a long moment. I was pretty sure I was at that edge where “no” had no meaning. But I wanted to know; I needed to know that this was really what she wanted.

  She touched the side of my face. “I want you,” she said. “I want you inside of me.”

  And that…I’d never heard such sweet words in all my life.