by Bethany-Kris
Ah.
Cree.
“You know,” Renzo said, “it’s been a few days since I heard your voice, Cree, and it wouldn’t have been a bad thing had I gone a few days more.”
“That’s not how you greet someone.”
“And what about your attitude, huh?”
“My attitude is just part of my winning personality. Like it or don’t, that’s not my problem.”
And that was Cree in a nutshell.
As fun as this was—and it wasn’t fun at all—Renzo was ready to get back to his wife and their vacation. He still had plans for the rest of their day, and he intended to make sure she enjoyed every single bit of it. She wouldn’t do that, however, if he was on the phone with people who needed to learn to respect his time.
“Listen,” he started to say, “I am on vacation, and everybody knows it. So, I’m not sure why you are calling this number—”
“Dare needs a favor.”
Renzo stilled. “I beg your pardon?”
Cree cleared his throat. “You heard me.”
“No, I’m sure I didn’t. At least, not correctly.”
A sigh echoed through the speakers.
Renzo waited the man out because shit … maybe he had heard him exactly right. It wasn’t like Cree or Dare to ask for anything like a favor, but especially not from one of their members. They weren’t the people who owed debts, they collected them and made others pay up for them. They trained assassins, and then lorded it over them for the rest of their lives.
“Shit luck, I guess.”
“What?”
Because Renzo hadn’t been paying attention.
He probably should have, though.
“Were you even listening to me?”
“You want honesty?” Renzo asked.
Cree grunted under his breath, muttering, “Listen.”
“I am now.”
“An … old friend of Dare’s,” Cree said, “owns massive properties in Bali, one of which is a hugely popular resort for tourism on the island.”
“All right. What’s that got to do with this favor?”
“The guy has a son—sixteen years old.”
“And?” Renzo demanded.
Because he felt like he was missing something here. Or was that just him?
“The father … he called a couple days ago. Said his kid had gone missing. Except he hadn’t really gone missing; that’s just rich people bullshit for my kid is mixed up with the wrong people, and my money won’t get me out of the problem.”
Renzo’s brow furrowed.
Cree sounded … annoyed.
“You okay?”
“Fine, why?”
“Nothing, just—you sound pissed.”
“That my husband’s ex wants us to take his kid from a gang and train him as a League member? Oh, and Dare is willing to go ahead with it because he feels like he owes that fuck something. Yeah, that kind of pisses me off.”
Renzo blinked.
Five times.
Because that’s how long it took him to absorb everything Cree just told him. Oh, sure, he’d heard rumors about Dare and Cree. Things like the two men were more to each other than just members of the same organization. He’d once asked Alessio Sorrento—another League member—about it, seeing as how Cree and Dare had basically taken the guy in and raised him from the time he was ten, but Les never said one way or another.
“Uh—”
“Sorry, that was a bit more info than I meant to give,” Cree said thickly. “Just … the kid is sixteen, and not only is he wanted by the authorities there for some of the dealings he’s had with this gang … but now his father hasn’t had contact with him for over two weeks. He’s willing to pay a lot of money to have the kid protected and straightened out.”
“Straightened out, huh? That’s a nice way to say you’re going to break him on every level possible and make him wish he were dead.”
“Yeah, well, I don’t make the fucking rules.”
There was that attitude again.
“You’ve got the week to figure it out and we’ll help with the details,” Cree said, “but basically you’re going to have to put him on a plane. That’s the gist of it. Easy.”
“But is it?”
“Pardon?”
“Easy,” Ren clarified. “Is it easy?”
“No. It never is.”
Right.
“I have to get back to my wife,” Renzo said. “Call after one in the morning—this is supposed to be mine and Lucia’s time. At least if you call around that time, this won’t affect her.”
“Will do. And uh … thanks, Ren.”
“Yeah, but you all owe me.”
Cree made a disgruntled noise. “Dare does. Have him pay up.”
Oh, he certainly would.
ELEVEN
Lucia couldn’t help but run her fingers over the strokes of oil paint that made up the sunset and beach portrait the artist had painted on a smooth piece of wood carved in the shape of a surfboard. It wasn’t a one-of-a-kind design, considering there were twenty other painted miniature surfboards right beside it, but that didn’t matter to her.
It was still amazing.
All the attention to detail.
“That’s all you want for this?” she asked the man behind the small booth who had previously given her the price.
One that was far too low for the time put into this.
He gave her a look. “Ma’am, people tend to barter lower in the market. It’s how things are done.”
She couldn’t imagine that.
“I don’t barter with artists,” she explained quietly, her attention going back to the foot-long surfboard painting in her hands, “because I feel like they know what their art is worth and who am I to tell them differently?”
Even if that was her job …
That never mattered.
Lucia’s respect for art was unmatched in that regard, and without artists who could make a livable income on their work, then there wouldn’t be anything for her to admire and appreciate. She wouldn’t have a goddamn job, either, without people willing to make art for her to show off, celebrate, or sell.
“No need to barter,” she told him, smiling.
She understood that it was a tradition here, and even Renzo had warned her about it when they’d first stepped into the market later in the afternoon—everything will be a higher price because we’re later in the day, he’d added—but she couldn’t do it. Bartering wasn’t in Lucia’s blood, but frankly, she was happy to pay the price the man originally asked.
Which she did.
He offered a brown paper bag to wrap her treasure in, but Lucia refused, fine to carry the item through the market for now. Besides, once she found where Renzo had gone, it was only around the corner at a shop selling T-shirts and musical instruments that the two of them had broken away from each other, he could hold her painted surfboard.
There were quite a few more things in the market that she wanted to check out, but not without Renzo keeping her company. Plus, she needed his arms to carry all the things back to the car, and he was so good at doing that.
Lucky for her, she didn’t have to search long. In fact, he hadn’t even left the shop with the T-shirts and music. Only now, as she stood in the doorway looking in, she found that her husband didn’t seem as interested in the clothing or whatever else the store was selling.
A little girl had caught his attention.
The brown-eyed, black-haired girl looked to be no more than five, if that. Maybe even younger. And yet, she was having the time of her life, dancing on the tips of Renzo’s combat boots while he held her hands and a man sat on a nearby stool, strumming out a fast tune on a guitar. A woman next to the man wearing a loose-fitting, flower-printed dress clapped in tune, her smile wide and her gaze fond as she watched the two.
Maybe the girl’s mother.
Lucia had no idea.
Although, as fast as she noticed the other people in the shop, Luci
a was quick to go back to the sight of Renzo dancing with the little girl. It wasn’t just the child who seemed as though she were having the time of her life.
Renzo was loving it, too.
She hadn’t expected to feel something stirring in her stomach and chest at the sight—something new; a feeling she had never given much thought to before now. But watching him dance with that little girl, his smile so fucking wide, reminded her of how good a father he would be. That all the love he kept so close to his chest because that’s just who he was deserved to be shared with someone else in their life. Yeah, they had Diego, and Renzo often volunteered when he had the time for the youth centers in the city, but none of that was the same, she knew.
It wasn’t their child.
It wasn’t lost on her in that moment how Renzo had never once asked that of Lucia. They’d talked about kids, yeah, and what they wanted, but he never said it needed to happen. And he certainly didn’t put a time limit on it. He didn’t make demands or constraints, almost like he was waiting for her to decide when the time should be right for them.
Was the time right now?
Did they have time in their already busy lives for something like babies?
She didn’t know.
When was it ever the right time?
Not that it mattered.
She heard the clock ticking now.
Loud and clear.
Funny, how something like that could change in a second.
The man playing the guitar brought the song to a close with applause from everyone in the shop, and Renzo, too. Even Lucia joined in, which finally seemed to catch her husband’s attention and let him know she was there waiting for him.
He gave her a wink.
She blew him a kiss right back.
The little girl stepped off his toes and beamed up at him. “Thank you for helping me practice my English, Mister.”
“Thank you for that dance,” her husband replied.
And there went her heart.
Melting into a puddle.
He said goodbye to the little girl, paid for the items that he had sitting on the floor next to where they’d been dancing, and then he joined Lucia in the doorway. For a second, she just stared at her husband as he slipped both arms around her waist and pulled her close enough that he could tip his head down and drop a soft kiss to her lips. Between them, she held tight to the painted surfboard.
“Found someone to dance with, did you?”
He shrugged. “Didn’t know where you were.”
“Mmhmm, well, I’m not that jealous about it. It was terribly cute.”
The grin he flashed her was downright sinful. “Oh, are we back to me being cute, baby?”
“Well …”
“I can always remind you why I soar far beyond cute.”
“Not here, you can’t,” she replied.
She was sure they still had an audience, even if she was too caught up in her husband to notice the rest of the people.
Renzo made a face. “Mmm, maybe not.”
Before Lucia lost her nerve, she asked the thing that was waiting on the tip of her tongue. “Do you want a baby?”
He tipped his head to the side, a small smile curving his lips in the sweetest way. “You know the answer to that, Lucia.”
“Yeah, I know you want kids. I meant … do you want them now?”
That made him pause.
She waited him out.
“I just … was waiting on whenever you were ready for that,” he said quietly.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought.”
“And we’re always busy.”
“We can’t slow down a bit?”
Renzo arched a brow. “Babe, I can do anything for you.”
Yeah.
She knew that, too.
“So, let’s slow down.”
He dropped another kiss to her lips, although this one lingered just long enough to make her forget about the market entirely. “Let’s slow it down, Lucia.”
TWELVE
Renzo lingered in the master bathroom’s doorway while Lucia finished her nightly rituals. Mostly cleaning away the makeup of the day, pulling her hair back to secure it while she slept, and putting that melon-smelling moisturizer that made her skin so fucking soft all over. It also made her taste even more edible, not that he was supposed to know how the lotion tasted, but that was a story for another day.
Then, she’d brush her teeth.
Which she had.
And take her pill.
Her birth control pill.
She’d gone back and forth between a few different methods of contraceptive, always letting him know when she switched to something else to try so that he could be extra careful. The pill seemed to be the one thing that didn’t bother her as much hormonally, as she had less mood swings, didn’t gain weight, and wouldn’t have to deal with annoying shit like breakouts. Not that he cared about any of those things, but she did. So, the pill it was and whatever made her happy was just fine for him.
Tonight, she didn’t take the pill.
“You were serious about that, then?”
She peered at him over her shoulder. That towel she’d wrapped around her form after getting out of the shower slipping slightly, but she didn’t bother to fix it. He was hoping that soon, the towel would be gone altogether. Matter of fact, he seriously hoped she left it right where she stood before leaving the bathroom, seeing as how he was already hard from standing there watching her get ready for bed … naked.
“Hmm, what?”
“The baby thing.”
“Why would I joke about that?”
Renzo shrugged. “Never said you were joking—just thought maybe you may have thought about it a little more and changed your mind. I’m never really sure what goes on in that mind of yours, babe, not unless you let me in on all the secrets.”
“Ren.”
“Yeah?”
“I don’t change my mind that easily.”
Right.
She told no lies.
“So, that means what I think it means, then?” he asked.
Lucia’s lips split into a grin that felt entirely sinful as she helped the slipping towel along by pulling it away from her body completely. That left her in nothing but silky, gleaming, gold skin under the soft lights of bathroom. He had the best view of the curve of her waist and the way her lower back melded into a pert, round ass.
Fuck, yeah.
“That means what you think it means, Ren.”
His tongue peeked out to wet the seam of his lips as she walked toward him. “Love you, huh?”
“More than you know.”
Oh, he knew.
He’d know it forever.
When she was close enough for him to grab and drag close, he did just that. Once his lips crashed with hers, the world around him exploded in two things—sensation and need. Both of which warred together, their similarities too much and just enough to make him so fucking selfish to get those things from her.
“God, you better fuck me good, Ren.”
See?
It wasn’t just him who was selfish here.
“You know I love that—don’t you? When you just demand I fuck you?”
Lucia smiled slyly. “Of course, I do.”
Which was why he made it worth her while for the next hour as he sated the greedy side of himself. He made sure she came when she was on her knees. Flat on her back, too, and even bent over the bed. He gave her what she needed, and then he took his time to slow their chaotic love down when he rolled over to let her ride him to his own release.
God.
He loved this woman.
• • •
Renzo took a moment to admire the sight of Lucia curled up in the white sheets on the bed where she’d rolled over to his side the very second after he’d gotten up. There was nothing he wanted more than to sit and stay right there with her, but the time was ticking closer and closer to one in the morning with every passing second, and he
didn’t want to be anywhere near her while he chatted about this thing he had to do for The League in Bali.
Besides, she needed to sleep.
Especially after their day and night.
Knowing if he didn’t go right then that he would stay there and watch her until his phone started to vibrate, Renzo headed into the hallway. Taking the stairs at the end two at a time—his footsteps still as light as a feather against the shiny hardwood floors—he headed for the back of the house. He had just gotten his laptop booted up on the back terrace while the sleeping forest whispered all around him when his cell phone vibrated on the glass table.
He didn’t hesitate to pick it up.
“Yeah, Ren here.”
“Wondered if you were going to decide to tell me to fuck off for this favor.”
His brow raised at the voice on the other end of the call. He expected it to be Cree, considering that was who called him in the first place. It was Dare, instead.
“Hear you got a problem with an ex, huh?” Ren asked.
Dare made a harsh noise.
In the background, Ren heard a familiar voice bitch, “Could we not?”
Ah, there was Cree.
“Let’s ignore that bit,” Dare said quietly, “someone is a little sour about it.”
“Because you were so fast to say yes after everything that asshole—”
“You all can call me back after you settle whatever issue you’ve got going on, you know?”
Dare sighed. “No, it’s fine.”
“Right, well—”
“It would be better for all of us,” Dare quickly explained before another issue could start, “if the officials from Indonesia, as well as the United States, weren’t in Banyu’s business, considering the ties that man has to many criminal organizations around the world—including mine. Before his little issue, meaning that kid of his, starts to cause more problems than he already has, we will fix it.”
“He has more than enough money to fix the issue without asking you, Dare.”
Cree clearly wasn’t pleased.
“Would you knock—”
“It’s a way for him to worm his way back into your life, nothing more.”
“There’s a viable threat to The League by way of exposure, and I can’t risk that, Cree.”
