“I was supposed to go to medical school in NYC. When Frank died,” I shake my head, “well, I didn’t end up becoming a doctor.” I force a smile.
Her hand stills. “I’m sorry, Alé,” she says softly. I lift her hand to my mouth and kiss her palm.
“It’s okay,” I tell her honestly. And it is. This may not have been the life I dreamt for myself initially, but it’s the life I made. It’s my life.
“What kind of doctor did you want to be?” she asks as she props her chin on my chest.
“A pediatrician. I guess I’m a sucker for kids.” I smile.
A slow smile tips her full, sexy lips. “You would’ve been good at that.”
“Thanks,” I whisper. Part of me has always wondered if I would’ve made it. If that dream would’ve come true if Frank hadn’t died.
“There’s a phrase written in the cross on your back,” she whispers. “What does it mean?”
“Viere senza rimpiani—live with no regrets.”
“And do you?” she whispers. “Live with no regrets, I mean.”
“I have a few,” I shrug. “Like… I wish I hadn’t had done so many drugs after Frank died. I drank a lot. My parents threatened to put me in rehab if I didn’t straighten myself out.”
“You’re a good man, Alé,” she says fiercely. “I have no doubt that your brother’s proud of you.”
“Dad was right,” I tell her as I look down into her eyes. She cocks a brow at me, confusion creasing her forehead. I reach over and smooth the lines with my thumb. “Come ser bella come una stella. You are beautiful, just like a star,” I whisper to her before kissing her brow. “Goodnight, Jo.”
She snuggles into me and nearly purrs, “Goodnight, Alé.”
Chapter Thirty
Joey
Alé and I have been together for a few weeks now, and intimately, we’re making progress. I’ve had a few moments where I would begin to panic, but he is always patient and has pulled me through them. We spend a lot of time together when we’re done with work at his family home, hanging with his family, enjoying the last few days of the warm, fall weather in the heated pool, or being alone in his pool house.
Alé’s more attentive than I ever thought possible. I’ll find random gifts addressed to me from him when he’s not around. There were multiple occasions flowers would be waiting for me in the home gym when I would be meeting with Maria for a training session. There’s always a card attached, but the only note is my name with a heart below. There was one time when he had a banana cream pie waiting for me at my door when he knew I had a long day and was just going to go home and crash. For the first time since I turned eighteen, I’m starting to feel happy again. More and more, my smiles are becoming genuine–real.
I was a little apprehensive showing my face again around them after the scene I made for them all to watch. I was relieved when I saw them the next day and they didn’t mention it, nor did they act differently toward me. Well, Rosetta came up and gave me a motherly hug, telling me that she would be flattered if I considered her an honorary Mom. It was touching but awkward. I didn’t really know what to say to that so I just smiled. Alé’s not shy of expressing himself with me around his family, but we haven’t really gone anywhere together either. I ended up asking him about it a few days ago, and now he’s determined that he’s going to take me out on actual dates. Like a couple. Of course, I’m excited, but I also feel bad. I don’t want him to feel like he has to take me out. I want him to want to take me out.
I just finish swiping the last coat of mascara on my eye lashes as a knock sounds at my door. Shaking my head, I can’t stop the goofy smile that forms on my face. I’m wearing a soft yellow sundress that flares away from my hips, with white braided sandals. He wouldn’t tell me what we were doing, so I had no idea how to dress. Opening the door, he’s propped against the doorframe with his feet crossed at the ankles, a mischievous grin on his face. A bouquet of white daisies tied with a yellow ribbon rest in his hand. He’s dressed in a forest green dress shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and a pair of light washed jeans. My mouth begins to water as I take in the way his clothes hug the contours of his body.
“You look,” he pauses and shakes his head, “breathtaking.”
I look down at my outfit selection, my hand smoothing a wrinkle in the skirt. “Thank you,” I mumble. Looking back up at him, I involuntarily lick my lips, “You look, delicious.” I smirk. “Are these for me?” I gesture to the flowers.
“Oh, these?” he questions. “No, I brought these for your neighbor.” He winks.
“Ha, ha, ha,” I mock as I reach for them and bring them to my nose to smell the sweet heavenly perfume. “Let me just put these in some water.” I turn and head into the kitchen grabbing a vase from under the sink. Arranging the flowers perfectly, I place the vase in the middle of my dining table before turning back to him. There is a hungry look in his eyes as they sweep up and down my body. “Are you ready?” I ask breathlessly. All he has to do is say the word, and I’d gladly stay here and enjoy a night in with him.
“Born ready.” He grins as he holds his arm out to me. I slip my arm through his and we make our way to his car.
“Where are we going?” I ask once we pull out onto the road.
I watch him tap his fingers nervously against the steering wheel. “It’s not… at least I hope you don’t mind,” he says apprehensively. “I figured you had never been to my family’s restaurant, so I figured we could go there for dinner, and then mini-golfing.” He smiles.
I smile wide. “I haven’t been mini-golfing since…” I trail off at the memory of regularly going with Eve, Aedan, and Dad. It was one of our favorite things to do together besides bowling.
“We don’t have to go,” he says quickly. “We can do whatever you want,” he tells me as he reaches over and grabs my hand, clasping our fingers together and resting them on his upper thigh.
“Alé,” I say gently looking over at him, “it’d be nice,” I nod sincerely, clearly confused, “to go again. It’s something Eve, Aedan, Dad, and I always did together. It’d be nice,” I tell him. “Besides, I rock at it.” I shrug. “So, I’m pretty sure I’ll kick your ass.” I laugh.
“Is that a challenge, kitten?” He smirks.
“Oh, you bet it is!” I tease.
“You’re on,” he gladly accepts as we pull into Luca’s parking lot. He helps me out of his car, offering me his hand, and leads me to the entrance. It’s a small brick building, with red awnings, and glass windows covering the front. Small black wrought-iron bistro tables line the outside. He opens the door and gestures me inside with his palm pressed to the small of my back. The design inside resembles what my mind would assume to be a classic Italian restaurant. Red and white checkered table cloths covering square tables, colorful murals covering the walls of what I assume to be Venice. Soft instrumental music playing in the background. We walk up to a dark wood hostess stand, and a short, pudgy man with thin greying hair looks up. His eyes flash with recognition as they fall on Alé.
“Mr. De Luca,” he says shakily. A bead of sweat starts to bubble from his pores above his upper lip.
“Good evening, Walt,” Alé says emotionless. Hmm. Their exchange interests me. This man is obviously nervous or fearful of Alé, and Alé isn’t his usual friendly self with Walt.
“We weren’t expecting you, sir. Would you,” he swipes a hand over his head before grabbing two menus from his host stand, “would you like your normal table?” he asks.
“Yes,” Alé says firmly.
Walt leads us to a private table near the back, placing the menus on the table. He takes a step back as Alé pulls my chair out for me. Smiling, I sit and Alé pushes my chair in for me. After taking his seat, Walt clears his throat.
“Would you like a bottle of wine, Mr. De Luca?”
“Yes, the house red, please. And you can go ahead and place an order for two of the chef’s spaghetti and meatballs, with a side order of bread,” Alé r
esponds as he hands our menus back to Walt. Walt nods once and disappears.
“What was that about,” I cock a brow at him.
“What was what about?” he asks confused.
“The hard ass, unfriendliness that’s clearly not you,” I say pointedly at him. “Ordering for me,” I add softly.
“I’m sorry, do you not like spaghetti?” he asks.
“No, of course I do.” I shake my head lightly and smile. “I honestly haven’t had it since my Dad passed. It was one of his specialties.”
“You haven’t had spaghetti in six years?” he gasps.
I can’t help but laugh. “I don’t eat a lot of pasta anymore. Carbs in general, really.”
“That’s a shame. Spaghetti is my favorite meal. And the chef here, it’s the best I’ve ever had.” He leans forward and whispers, “Don’t you dare tell my Ma that—I’ll deny it with everything I have.” He winks.
“Your secret is safe with me.” I laugh. “So your demeanor toward Walt,” I lead, “what was that about?”
“I prefer to not be overly-friendly with the staff.” He shrugs. “Business is business.”
I nod, not fully understanding, but it’s his family’s business, so I chose to leave it at that.
“Why don’t you eat pasta anymore?” he asks quietly.
“It’s full of carbs.” I laugh, causing him to shoot me a ‘no shit’ look. “I’ve always had a hard time with my weight. Cutting out carbs for the most part makes it easier to maintain.”
“You work out like six times a day,” he says amused. “I’m sure your body can handle a few carbs.”
“Yeah, maybe,” I reply as Walt reappears with a bottle of wine and offers it to Alé. Alé graciously accepts and looks at me. I shoot him a look to convey that he could be a bit nicer to the poor guy. He nods once and forces a smile as he offers his thanks to Walt. Walt’s face openly covered in what could only be described as shock, smiles before walking away.
“Better,” I grin and Alé rolls his eyes.
“So,” he says as he pours me a glass of wine and places it down in front of me, “Kellan mentioned something about your mom being hard on you about your body,” he says cautiously. His words cause me to straighten my spine in defense. Are we really going to talk about my mom tonight?
“Yeah, I guess you could say that,” I say coolly.
“Care to elaborate?” he asks.
“Nope,” I say, popping my lips on the p.
“I just want to know more about you,” he says quietly as he sits back in his chair, taking a sip of his wine before placing it back down on the table.
“All right,” I roll my eyes as I lean forward, crossing my arms on the edge of the table. “My mom was a bitch,” I say snidely. “She hated Eve and me before we were even born. Nothing we did was good enough. And we were,” I pause, pursing my lips, searching my brain for the right word, “too curvy for her. We were required to work out every day, we weren’t allowed snacks when we were home, and she always took it upon herself to remind us how worthless we were. After Eve…” I trail off and reach for my wine glass taking a deep drink of the delicious liquid. Setting the glass down again, I continue, “I didn’t want to have anything to do with music anymore, so I went to school and learned everything I could. Cameryn and I met each other in some of our classes, and he came up with the idea of us opening up JC Fitness together. It was perfect for me, because I worked out religiously anyway. I guess… I guess her words were ingrained in my head by that point even though she wasn’t around anymore. So,” I shrug, “it just made sense.”
“Why did you give up on your passion for music?” he asks, his eyes dark, voice soft but rough.
“I just didn’t want to do it anymore.”
“You don’t write?” he cocks a brow.
“Honestly?” I ask as I lean forward, closer toward him. He nods his head and I tell him, “I’m always writing. I hear melodies flow through my head all the time, and in my mind, I write the words. But I’ve never played them aloud.”
“Why not?”
“It’s just…” I shake my head. “Writing and composing music was something that Aedan and I did together since I was ten. Doing it without him, it just… it just seems wrong, I guess.” I smile sadly at him.
“Wouldn’t it be a way to honor him, though? To remember him?” he asks cautiously.
“What are you, Dr. Phil?” I ask defensively.
“I’m sorry.” he shakes his head regretfully. “We can talk about something else,” he says sympathetically, as Walt appears at our table with our food.
Hesitantly, I take a bite of the spaghetti, and I literally moan as soon as the food touches my tongue. My eyes close involuntarily as I revel in the delicious taste in my mouth.
“God, Jo, you keep eating like that and we aren’t going to make it through our meal,” Alé groans.
My eyes snap open, and I see the heat simmering in his eyes. I grin slyly as I reach for my glass of wine.
“Alé, can I ask you something?” I ask a bit timidly.
“Always,” he tells me as he takes a bit of bread.
“What exactly is it that you and your family do for a living? I mean, I feel like I should know this,” I say shyly. Maybe he doesn’t want me to know.
“We invest. A lot.” He smiles. “We own various establishments, as well,” he tells me before taking a sip of wine.
I nod. “Oh, that makes sense.” I smile wide at him. “Do you like it?”
He sends a puzzled look and shrugs. “Yeah. It’s not so bad. I mean, it wasn’t what I dreamed of when I was younger for myself, but it’s not so bad.”
“Fair enough.” I lower my head. “I think it rarely happens that a child’s career goals come true.” I shrug as I take another orgasmic bite of spaghetti.
“My turn.” He winks at me. “Have you spoken to Cam since he touched you?”
I drop my fork on my plate, and wipe my mouth with my hands. “You make it sound like he attacked me.” I roll my eyes.
“Well, he did leave bruises on you,” Alé snarls.
“It was nothing,” I say as I roll my eyes.
“Stop rolling your eyes at me,” Alé growls.
“To answer your question, we’ve seen each other. We stay civil, but we haven’t really talked. He has his clients and I have mine. Our meetings to go over the books and everything stay on point, and when we’re done, we’re done. To be honest, I feel bad that I hurt him. I seriously didn’t know that he felt that way,” I whisper as I trace the edge of my wine glass with my finger.
“You feel bad?” Alé sneers.
“A little. He was one of my closest friends, Alé. I know you don’t like each other, but you need to understand that.”
“I don’t like it. At all. There was no reason for him to touch you.” He shakes his head, jaw clenched, eyes ice cold.
“Noted,” I tell him as I push the plate away from me. I drain my wine glass and set it back on the table as both of our phones begin to ring. Puzzled, we both pull our phones out to check them.
Maria: Pool party! Get your booty’s back here! :)
I laugh at Maria’s text. “Sounds like she’s having fun.” I smile as I slip my phone back into my purse.
“Did you want to go?” Alé asks.
“I’m game for whatever.”
“Jo,” he commands my attention. “Did you want to go hang out at home or go mini golfing?”
“Don’t be mad…”
“Never,” he teases.
“Let’s go hang out,” I whisper almost questioningly. “I love your family.”
“Good. I’d rather kick back and relax with you anyway.” He smiles.
Chapter Thirty-One
Aléssandro
I know my family loves Jo—they tell me all the time, especially Maria and Ma, but it’s relieving to hear Jo say that she loves my family just as much. I’m not going to lie—the fact that Jo is willing to spend the end of our night with my fam
ily with their impromptu pool party irritates me a bit. I kind of wanted it to be just us. But, on the other hand, it makes me happy to know that she truly does accept my family—not many do.
I’m a little nervous on how Jo’s going to react to the new bathing suit I bought for her. Jo’s perfect. She’s gorgeous. I just wish she would accept that. Believe that. Each time I see her sexy body naked, I can tell she fights with herself by forcing herself to refrain from covering her body with her arms or hiding under a blanket. Each time her mind wins, I let her know to knock that shit off. I don’t like it. I want to see her.
I’m going to push her out of her comfort zone a bit. I honestly thought I would’ve had more time to come up with a way to get her to voluntarily wear the new white, string bikini I bought her, though. My original idea was to challenge her on something for it to happen. My girl never declines a challenge.
“What are you smirking about over there?” Jo asks as her hand covers mine.
I look over at her, my eyes roaming over her beautiful face before my eyes drop down to the cleavage on display. My dick grows hard instantly at the sight before me.
“Alé,” Joey shrieks and her hand swats me against the chest. “Pay attention to the road.”
“Kitten, that’s hard to do when you look like that.” I grin. Looking over at her again, I catch her rolling her eyes. “Roll your eyes at me again, babe, and I’ll take you over my knee and spank you,” I growl.
Her mouth falls open, her doe eyes grow wide as she turns and looks at me.
“What?” I ask nonchalantly.
“You wouldn’t,” she breathes.
“Oh, I would if you let me.” I wink before turning my attention back to the road.
The remainder of the drive is quiet except for the music flowing through the speakers. I used to not be allowed to drive with her in the car at all if I had music on. I’ve finally gotten her to allow it to be on as long as the volume was kept low. I’ve tried to get her to play a song for me that she’s written, but she’s just not there yet.
I honestly don’t know if she ever will be. I watch her quite often when she’s oblivious, off in her own little world, her own mind. I see her fingers move with a life of their own against her knee or the top of a table. She often will close her eyes and her lips will move subtly, but no words will come out. I’ve come to realize that it is these moments when she’s writing her music in her head. I know better than to disturb her during those times. I just wish she would trust me enough to share them with me. Every time I talk to her about it, she just tells me it’s not who she is anymore or that she can’t. I won’t give up trying, though.
Licentious Page 20
