Betrayed (Chianti Kisses #3) (8 page)

~*~

“I come in peace.” I stick my hand between the door and the jamb holding out my white handkerchief and waving it around slightly to catch V’s attention.

“I’m not in the mood to fight, Dom.” I can tell she’s still emotional.

I drop my hand and use my forearm to push the door open the rest of the way, balancing the cold bowl in my other palm.

“Good. Because the only thing I’m in the mood for right now, is ice cream.” I use all my sales skills to display the medium-sized white bowl like a cheap Vanna White impersonator.

Her feet are up, resting on a small ottoman as she lounges in her favorite chair, book open and now lowered to acknowledge me.

Her eyes settle on the peace offering starting to melt. I catch her checking out her favorite flavor as I approach cautiously before she quickly turns back to her novel.

“Whatcha doing?” I ask in a smooth voice.

I see her eyebrow twitch. “Trying to calm down.”

Ouch.

I try a different approach. “Whatcha reading?”

She smirks. “A romance novel about my dream man.”

That… was below the belt. And, not the way I usually like her to touch that area.

“Well, then, looks like I arrived just in time to save you from reading another smut-filled page, because… your dream man has officially arrived.”

She watches me quizzically as I gently take the book and toss it over to the bed. Before she has a chance to object, I replace the void in her lap with the creamy bowl of mint chocolate chip homemade sundae.

Next, I lift her fuzzy slipper covered feet and take a seat on that same ottoman, letting her feet drop onto my thighs.

“So, I’m thinking… one of your favorite movies… you know, one of the chick flicks that make you cry at the end. A bowl of your favorite dessert, and a handsome piece of husband eye candy ready and willing to rub your tired, swollen, achy feet. Maybe I’ll even rub your shoulders.”

I think I’ve made a compelling argument.

“You sure you’re not too
busy
?” she bites back.

She’s not cutting me any slack. “V, I’m sorry. You were right. Everything you said… you were right. I’m here on my knees to apologize and convince you that it’s going to change. It’s going to get better.”

She licks her spoon clean but remains silent.

“You’re my number one priority.” I reach forward and rest my hand on her small baby bump. “You
both
are my first priority, and I’ve been an ass. I’ve lost sight of what’s really important and you helped to show me that I’m not willing to jeopardize my family. To jeopardize losing you.”

She’s listening to me, I can tell, as she swirls her spoon around. “You forgot the rainbow sprinkles.”

I laugh. “I’ll never forget the rainbow sprinkles again.”

I can see her warming up, inching closer to forgiveness. “What movie did you bring?”

Almost there.

“Whatever you want, I’ll go get it from the shelf.” Her eyes cast up at my offer. “Please don’t say
The Notebook
, please don’t say
The Notebook
, please don’t say
The Notebook
,” I beg.

She smiles wickedly, looking to inflict just a little bit more punishment on me to make sure I’ve learned my lesson.

“You read my mind…
The Notebook
it is.”

I drop my head in mock defeat and concede. “Fine. I’ll go get it. And I’ll bring a box of tissues.”

By the time I return, with movie in hand, V’s already set up in the little loveseat by the window with a knit throw around her legs. I can still feel a slight bit of awkwardness between us and know that it will take more than a few words and a foot rub to make up for the ass I’ve been to her these last few days.

“I have an idea…” her eyes follow me as I cross the room to the wooden nightstand by my side of the bed.

I pull on the decorative knob and fumble inside for the small envelope, the gift given to me not long ago. I hold it up like a hard-won prize and move to take the seat next to my wife.

She sits up straight, allowing me to take her in my arms.

“Now?” she asks. “You want to open it
now
?”

I quirk my eyebrow in question. “Can’t think of a better time. I meant what I said, V. I’m in this 100%. No matter what, you come first.”

My thumb slips in to the tight opening in the corner of the sealed flap and wiggles to get a good grip before moving across the length of the top, carefully tearing an opening.

We’re both silent, waiting.

Reaching in, I handle the inner contents as if they were gold, and unfold the piece of parchment.

I
knew
it.

I hear her swallow hard next to me, knowing her angle hasn’t given her view of what I’ve seen. She shifts to try to get a better view but I snatch it away playfully.

“Hey!” She play punches me in the arm. Her sour mood from before now getting feisty.

I reach my hand behind her neck and hold her still.

“I promise… I will be the best role model for him.” I coyly let her in on the secret.

Her eyes widen and I watch the balls of her cheeks rise, seeing the first smile from her in days.

“Him?” she asks softly, as if unsure.

I nod, and rest my hand on top of my son. She covers it with her own, weaving her small fingers through mine to form a protective web over the baby.

“I know you will, Dom. Just like your dad was to you.”

Her words slice like invisible daggers, unaware of the painful irony in the statement.

I don’t answer, I just hold her closer.

“I-I know you probably wanted to name him after you, Dom. But… it would really mean the world to me if we named him after my dad. Guiseppe DiBenedetto. We could call him Joey.”

Her eyes are doe-like, soft, all traces of anger gone. I would do anything to spare her hurt, and nod in agreement.

“Anything you want, V… anything.” I kiss her on the forehead and pull her in, resting my cheek against her hair.

Sure. What else would we do other than name our son after the man my father murdered?

CHAPTER SEVEN

THERESA

He’s still pissed.

Whatever
, he can be pissed all he likes. I have every right to be just as mad as him.

“Can you close your window shade please?” I ask loudly to be heard above the roaring engines of the small jet.

I’m not scared to fly… but I’m not exactly thrilled to be doing it either. Especially thousands of feet above the Atlantic Ocean.

He ignores me, instead concentrating on the stupid magazine he’s pretending to read. He’s been stuck on the same page for twenty minutes. He’s not reading a damn thing, just occupying himself with anything that will prevent him from having to acknowledge me.

Fine!

You know, there’s a difference between being distant and being plain rude. I unbuckle my seatbelt and quickly take the seat next to his, reaching across to shut the fabric shade myself.

As soon as I’ve secured the little tab so that the harsh sunlight is no longer pouring through the pane, I smugly nod to my bad-mannered companion and abandon him to reclaim my own seat on the other side of the small plane.

I can hear the sliding mechanism lift and see the sudden appearance of daylight on the nearby surfaces before I’ve even reached my destination.

That little
-

I turn on my heel and stalk back over to remedy the situation once and for all as he watches, cruelly amused. The floor begins to shake under my feet and the telltale rattling of mechanical parts gives way.

“Fuck!” I exhale frantically.

His eyes squint. “What’s wrong?”

That’s the first thing he’s said to me since we left Dom’s office. Well, the first thing that wasn’t an order of some type to stay behind and not come along.

“N-nothing,” I manage, and close my eyes tight using my hands to search for the chair with the only protection I have at this point- my seatbelt.

“Come here,” he offers, in a much friendlier tone.

I shake him off. “No- I don’t need you.”

The plane hits a rougher patch, skipping over uneven terrain harshly. I fall into the high back of a seat and hold on dearly. The metal clicking of Carmine’s seatbelt can somehow be heard above the noise and I feel his hands around my waist a mere second later, pulling me to him.

With the help of the next speed bump, we both tumble back to the pair of seats he occupied, with me landing on his lap.

“Shh…” he coddles me. “It’ll be over in a minute. And I
know
you don’t
need
me, Tre. You make it painfully clear every chance you get.”

The violent bouncing doesn’t let up, and I find myself clinging to him for dear life.

“There, see…” he points out the very first break in turbulence.

I release my breath and open my eyes searching around. My sight fixes on the still-opened window and find that we are in fact
not
falling helplessly towards the bottom of the ocean floor as I had pictured in my mind.

“See?” he asks again.

I turn to him, his perfect hair slightly disheveled, his eyes full of concern. I nod and begin to peel myself from him.

“I’m- I’ll be fine. Thank you,” my words have an edge to them.

He rolls his eyes and pulls back his arms harshly. “Why do you always
do
that?”

“Do what?” I bark back.

He shakes his head in frustration, as the skin around his collar begins to flush in anger.

“Act so…
difficult
! You
never
listen me, especially when what I’ve got to say is for your own good. You make sure I know at all times you’d be fine without me. Hell, maybe even better off!”

I feel an invisible little nerve near my eye twitch.

“First of all… I don’t
have
to listen to you. I’ve spent my whole life
listening
to people. My dad, V’s Dad, Dom, John… and now you?” I shake my head. “I can think for myself. I can take care of myself. I did it last time.”

His eyes slant, his chin bows. “What do mean
you did it last time
?”

“The last time you left. Gone. Without so much as an explanation. You broke my heart and left me! Let’s just say the next time it happens I won’t be so unprepared.”

“Oh God, Theresa! We were kids! And, I was doing you a favor. You had no business getting mixed up with a guy like me. You deserved so much more.”

I shake my head in refute. “And you just suddenly came to that realization? Like that?” I snap my fingers for effect. “After a whole summer of making me fall for you, you turned on me.”

He breathes hard. “I never thought I had a shot in hell to be accepted by one of the families… to become… what I’ve become. I thought I’d get lucky and go to some two-year night school and somehow fall into managing the restaurant. Something safe, something average… something that maybe you could find some way to accept.”

He drops his shoulders, relaxing as if he’s got nothing left to hide. “And then… then I got an offer I couldn’t refuse. And I was young. And I was stupid. And I knew… I didn’t want you anywhere near this kind of life.”

Carmine watches me as I take in his words.

“So I did the only thing I could think to do. I left. Because I knew that if I had to face you again, I wouldn’t be able to leave. I’d be there washing dishes, paying my way through school. And you… you’d finally realize you could do so much better than me. You’d leave eventually. You’d have every right to. I wouldn’t be a
real
man.

“This,” he hits his own chest hard. “This is who I’m meant to be. This is all I know.”

“Then why?” I ask, inching closer, wanting to know. “Why’d you come back? Why’d you let this happen between us again?”

He bites his lower lip, blanching the skin. “I don’t know… because- because I’m a damn fool. I saw you that afternoon getting all pissy with V in the restaurant when you realized I was here. I saw that fire in you… the same fire I saw back then. The one I knew could be reckless and fearless, and God help me, I wanted another taste.”

“No.” I put my foot down. “You don’t get to say these things. You don’t get to change things.”

“No?” he asks. “Then what
do
I get to do? You say you don’t want people telling you what to do anymore? Then
you
tell
me
. Because I’m tired of playing this game. You want me? Well, this
is
me. This is who I am. Am I an asshole sometimes? Yep. Am I a stupid sonnuva bitch who hurt you years ago?” He moves his head away, pained. “Yup. I’m that guy, too. But, I’m also the guy who realizes that he let the greatest thing that’s ever happened to him go. And he’s here now, asking you to forgive him, asking you to somehow give him another chance. I was wrong back then. I thought I had to choose… maybe I don’t. I may not be the most successful or the richest man, and I know for sure that I will never deserve you.”

I tilt my head, shielding my welling eyes from him. He grips my chin and forces me to witness the rest of his confession.

“But I love you. I loved you then. I love you now. And I will die to protect you. That’s all I have to offer. So… you want people to stop making choices for you? Then you make your own choice. Right here. Right now.”

My breathing’s become erratic. This is what I’ve wanted, right? To think for myself, to choose for myself. Then why am I having such a hard time answering him?

“I-I…”

Can it possibly be as easy as he’s said? All I have to do is tell him what I want? Tell him what I need? No one’s ever asked me that. I don’t even know how to comprehend it.

“Tell me. I need to hear it.” He prods me.

Ah, fuck it.

I slam my lips down as hard as I can onto his, pushing past his mild resistance until I’m deep into the kiss I want, the kiss I need. I feel his hands roam wildly through my hair, and I move blindly to edge closer, straddling him.

The leather seating cracks and creaks under our moving bodies as we both squirm to fit in the single, oversized chair.

The pressure from his hands in my hair intensifies and he pulls back, taking my lips with him.

“No. You have to say it. I want the words, Tre.” He’s back to being the cold-hard, dominating tough guy.

I moan, wantonly, and try to escape his hold. I know if I kiss him again, he’ll be sure of my answer. He doesn’t budge, though.

Fine.

“You want me to be your woman?” I ask, turning the tables. “Then you’ve got to accept
me
, too. Just like you want me to accept you.
Every
part of me. The part that doesn’t take orders. The part that doesn’t like to be told what to do. The part that thinks for herself, and can be bitchy, and the part that sometimes doesn’t believe she’s enough for you… that you’ll want more.”

“I’m never going to want more… because there
is
nothing more.” He follows my eyes as I try to look away. “Say it.”

I swallow hard and know that I’m at a turning point. Once I cross this line, there’s no going back.

“I want it. I want all of it.”

No sooner than the words are out of my mouth does he make good on his promise. I said I wanted all of it… well, he’s about to give me
all
of it. He pulls at me, closing the small gap between us as he takes hold under my thighs and lifts. I hear him grunt as he carries us to the small sleeping area in the rear of the cabin. The flimsy little door handle jiggles but eventually opens to his command and we spill inside.

The bed isn’t large by any means, but it’s a small amount of privacy to do what’s needed in this moment.

His movements are quick, not at all like the controlled man I’ve grown used to these last few months, frantically clawing at my jeans until they relent and slide down my body where I’m able to kick them away.

Our lips are merciless, attacking the other’s without relent, no doubt bruising the tender flesh. I hear the soft thudding of fabric piling up by his own feet and know that he’s worked himself free.

One quick motion sees me hoisted from the mattress, brought to him, and high enough to settle on his piercing flesh as he kneels on the provisional bed. I seat myself down, gasping along as I feel the tightness spread its way until I’ve reached bottom.

He’s finally able to relax, all traces of his frenzy having been satisfied. I feel his chest expand, his breathing becoming deep and composed. His lips slow, softening themselves against mine. The urgency in his tongue is replaced by a sultry kneading.

Ever so slowly, I raise myself and lift from the thickness he’s embedded in me. His strong arms help ease the burden and move me higher until just a small bit of him remains where we’ve joined.

Without risking further separation, he lowers me, not willing to loose the connection we claim on each other. Again and again we move as one… slowly, deliberately.

The deep vibrations of the engines around us add an electrified hum to the panting and moaning we both use to speak to each other with.

“Mine,” he frees his lips long enough to stake verbal ownership over what I’ve so willingly given to him.

I smile, knowingly.

“
Mine
,” I return the tribute.

He laughs into my neck as I slide against him, hastening our pace.

“Yours,” he concedes.

And then, thousands of miles above the Atlantic Ocean, high in the clouds… he shows me what heaven must feel like.

~*~

“This
can’t
be it?” I move my stare from the GPS screen in the dash, to the tourist map in my hands and then to the hand-carved wooden sign we’re parked beside.

Carmine removes his sunglasses to get a better look.

“Uva Malvagio…” he reads the scripted print from the posted sign. “This is the place.
Wicked grape,
huh?”

His eyebrow twitches in amusement at the translation. We must have passed a dozen or so small wineries and vineyards on this road alone. This one is by far the smallest and most creatively named.

The small rental car is thrown into reverse and I cringe as I hear the gears screech and grind. Seeing me wince my eyes is pain, Carmine lays his excuse.

“European cars… the tranny’s are different,” he attempts to cover up his lack of manual transmission driving skills.

I laugh as we slowly enter the dirt and stone drive of the small establishment.

“Maybe I should drive from now on? I know how to work a stick,” I suggest playfully.

He growls.

“Yes you do. It’s one thing for you to tell me what you want. It’s a whole other thing for me to let you drive. Don’t push,” he chides.

I roll my eyes sarcastically and exhale my exaggerated disappointment loud enough for him to hear. You can take the man out of the cave, but you can’t take the cave out of the man.