Hero: A Bad Boy Mafia Romance (30 page)

Pausing at the foot of the stairs, I turned for the front entrance and penned a quick note to my father on the side-table there.

Out with Seth, may be late for dinner.

Love you, A.

Then I headed out the door towards the gravel section of the entrance that usually held Seth’s truck. My eyes took a moment to adjust to the bright summer sun again, which is the only explanation I had for the way they settled on his tall, built body leaning casually against the side of it, arms folded and one ankle tucked around the other showcasing his muscles and outlining the groin. Even my breath catching at that sight couldn’t disturb the happiness bubbling up in my chest while I made my way over, shooting him a grin.

“Posing for me?”

He shifted out of that unconscious stance with a puzzled glance as I moved around to the passenger side.

“Huh?”

“You look like you could be on the cover of some all-male masculinity magazine, up against the truck like that.”

“Yeah, I think the ‘magazine’ part probably defeats that…”

He stepped behind me as I opened the door, and before I could question it, his strong hands were on my hips while I stepped up into the high truck, steadying my ascent. Heat blossomed under his fingers as they caressed the top of my shorts, shooting straight to my center before I managed to slip out of his grasp. I turned back with a glare to see his almost-innocent smile undermined by the dangerous flash of his gray eyes.

“Seth…”

“Thought you needed a hand, babe. It’s a big truck.”

“And you were suddenly overcome with consideration? Sure you’re feeling alright,
babe
?”

The height of the seat compensated somewhat for the difference between us but being able to meet his gaze evenly didn’t help with the way I was hyper aware of his hand resting dangerously close, his large body blocking the doorway, simultaneously sheltering and enclosing me in a way I feared I liked too much.

“I’ve always known what you needed, Bella.”

For a second, I considered calling the whole thing quits as something in me seized at those words - but then his expression relaxed and the casual smile he offered took the deeper meaning away from it. It didn’t quite stop my heart from skipping a beat as he withdrew and closed the door, my head thumping back against the seat again. This was a stupid game to be playing, but the banter between us was as second-nature as the irritation and heat, and we’d always had fun with it before. I was done flaying myself for that mistake years ago - it was over, and if I wanted to give our parents a chance, we needed to reinvent that relationship. Which wasn’t going to work so well if I jumped every time he made a jab in that direction.

It’s okay - you’re living your own life now. And if he wants to help with that, even better.

He settled into the seat next to me and we buckled up as the engine hummed to life under us.

The cab of the truck wasn’t small, but his large presence seemed to fill it easily - and it was obviously kept neat, even with the wear and rough use it had seen. A wooden eagle dangled from the rear-view mirror, probably some kind of good luck charm, and I settled into the seat as he started towards the driveway.

Then we were off, my mind still trying to work out whether I should be going along at all.

“So, San Francisco, huh? Well, with any luck we’ll miss another awkward dinner.”

The words surprised a laugh out of me, and I leaned forward to fiddle with the radio.

“It’s not that bad…”

He raised an eyebrow and I admitted to myself I’d thought the exact same thing often enough.

“Okay, maybe—hey!”

His strong fingers wrapped around my wrist, my pulse beating against him for a moment as he moved it back to my seat and turned the radio to the original station.

“My truck, my rules, baby.”

A familiar pop-song came on and I rolled my eyes.

“Oh c’mon, you can’t want this station. They play every song to death - I must’ve heard this at least a hundred times by now.”

He gave me an amused glance and a quick shake of his head.

“Not me - I got back a couple weeks ago. I get to catch up on all the music everyone is sick to death of.”

That made me pause - his life as a SEAL was really something I knew nothing about, and there were probably dozens of implications I hadn’t considered. It reminded me yet again that three years was a long time - I wasn’t sure I’d changed all that much, but that didn’t mean he hadn’t. Giving a mock-sigh, I relented.

“Fine, but if they play this one more than a couple of times, I’m going to start singing along - and then you’ll have to change to something I don’t know.”

He grinned.

“Yeah, they didn’t cover that in interrogation resistance training…”

I returned the smile but my stomach flipped at the casual comment, and I wasn’t sure I was quite prepared to hear about the kind of life he led. I let the banter drop off as he navigated his way through the city, the light music providing a nice backdrop to the warm sun glinting down, despite my initial objections.

When we turned onto the interstate he ramped the truck up, the mostly empty scenery rolling past at a crazy speed while he weaved easily between lanes and cars. My eyes lingered on him, as they had done more often than I would have liked the last few days, admiring the strength he handled the vehicle with and the way his powerful presence dominated the not-insignificant space of the cab. My curiosity got the better of me a few moments later and I couldn’t resist asking the question that had been on my mind all week.

“So, what do you think, then?”

He grunted as I drew him out of wherever his thoughts had been, looking over at me with a question.

“About our parents, I mean.”

His face closed off the way I’d seen it do so many times and he just shrugged.

“Not much.”

I waited a moment, until it became obvious that was all he was going to say.

“You don’t think much of them being together?”

“No, I just don’t think about them.”

The tension in his shoulders said otherwise and I bit back the sudden flare of irritation at his evasion. He didn’t owe me an explanation, or a blow-by-blow of what he felt, but somehow it hurt that he was shutting me out the same way he did with everyone else. Which was irrational, but…I’d never been my most rational around him. I gave up with a shrug, chiding myself for the interest.

“Alright.”

There were a few minutes of silence, punctuated only by the swinging of the vehicle from lane to lane - it occurred to me I should probably try to reign in his nonchalance towards speed limits, but the blur outside the window had suddenly become appealing. Finally, when I’d almost forgotten the awkwardness, he sighed and shrugged against some of the tension, appearing to make a decision.

“It’s just not worth thinking about, you know? I’ve seen this song-and-dance before, never ends well. No point getting invested in it, one way or the other.”

I wasn’t expecting that
,
but then as I thought about what I knew of his childhood, I realized that while this might be a major intrusion into my life, Seth had deliberately built his so that it couldn’t disturb him.

“Cora’s been married before?”

“Engaged…married…yeah.”

As much as I’d felt ambivalent about the whole thing, concern for my father flickered through me.

“You think their marriage isn’t going to work out?”

My tone had him turning towards me for a moment, his eyes flicking between the road and my expression. He cocked his head, seeming surprised.

“You want it to?”

“Of course I do! He’s my father.”

That should have been explanation enough, but he considered it for a few quiet moments, and I couldn’t help feeling he was judging me for that viewpoint.

“Do you not?”

He just shrugged again, and I guessed I wasn’t going to get much more.

What was more worrying was the idea that Cora had been engaged or married so often that Seth didn’t seem to consider it worth anything. I wondered whether my father knew - he had to, right? He’d know what he was getting into, he was sensible that way. I bit my bottom lip as I considered it, wanting to ask Seth more about all that but not having a clue how to phrase it in a way that wouldn’t give offense.

My expression must have given my thoughts away - either that or the drumming of my fingers on the side of the door - because he kept looking over at me, and eventually sighed again.

“You really care, huh?”

I managed not to glare at him. Why was that so difficult to understand?

“My father deserves a chance to be happy, and he’s a good guy. Do you really
not
care?”

“I never saw you as all that keen on the whole thing.”

“That’s not really the point - it’s not about me. Whatever I might think…I wouldn’t want it to go badly for them.”

He was silent for another few moments before reaching out to cup my chin, tilting my head back to meet his eyes. I wanted to bristle at the uninvited touch, but having his strong hand there brought back his mouth coming down over mine, the memory of the passion that had always followed that demanding touch heating my blood instinctively. His eyes glanced away from me every few moments to check the road, but even so I eyed his one hand on the wheel warily. If it hadn’t been that our speed had slowed back to something resembling normal, and there seemed to be no other cars around, I would have probably freaked out at him to pay attention to the road.

One finger stroked my cheek with unexpected gentleness and I fought the instinct to lean into that hand as he gave me the reassurance I hadn’t quite managed to ask for.

“If it helps, I do think this time is different.”

His hand shifted up to touch the hair tied back in a ponytail before his fingers trailed down my neck and withdrew, leaving me with a shiver of sensation that had me biting my lip for another reason entirely. He turned his attention fully back to the road and I brought myself out of the semi-daze.

“What do you mean?”

One side of his mouth half-curved into a smile and he shook his head as he glanced over at me.

“God, you’re never satisfied, are you?”

“What?”

“You can’t just take something as it is, hmm? You have to know why, and how, and talk it half to death first.”

I could have been insulted, but his eyes were sparkling as he looked over at me, a fond exasperation that made me shake my head back.

“Taking you at face value has never seemed a good idea.”

He snorted in response.

“Ahh, baby, I’m as direct as they come.”

That
was certainly something I remembered well - and even when it came to our relationship, it had been me that had read far too much into it. He’d always claimed it didn’t mean anything…

Except that one time.

I shrugged the thought away, happy that the mood had lightened and unwilling to compromise that with the constant playback of memories that were better untouched. I turned back to him, but he’d lapsed into silence again and I couldn’t quite let the original question go.

“You’re really not going to say anything else?”

A grin spread over his face and he laughed.

“Sure, baby. I was just waiting to see if you’d ask again. Point proven.”

Prick.

But my mouth was quirking in a smile, and I didn’t really object to his comments - it had always been better to understand and judge for myself, even if the endless questions drove him crazy. And we still had a couple of hours left in the car, it would be damn boring if
neither
of us attempted conversation.

“So? What did you mean?”

His eyes lit as I prompted again, but he finally relented.

“Your father’s better than most of the guys Mom usually goes for…more stable too. She’s always gone after the bad-boy type before, and that has a tendency to end badly.”

Amusement hit me at that idea and I looked over at him, a casual up and down.

Now what did that remind me of?

“Yeeah, I can see that.”

Confusion flickered in his eyes for a moment, before he caught the implication.

“Hey!”

His voice caught with laughter though, and I just smiled, enjoying the way we’d slipped back into those old, easy patterns. It was undeniably better than the awkwardness of the last week, that was for sure, and I was surprised to find him pretty good company when he wasn’t being an ass. Maybe this whole wedding-and-family thing wouldn’t be so bad.

“So you like him then? My father?”

I didn’t know why that felt important to me, but it did. I wanted Seth to like my father, to approve of his mother’s choice - there were enough people who judged him badly without really knowing him. Not that Seth knew him, but still—