Series: The Rossi Crime Family Series by J.L. Beck
Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 56905 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 285(@200wpm)___ 228(@250wpm)___ 190(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56905 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 285(@200wpm)___ 228(@250wpm)___ 190(@300wpm)
“Because I’m scared, Luke,” she bellows, jumping up from her seat. “I’m scared of what you do. I’m scared of what kind of person you have become. And most of all I’m scared of trusting you again, of giving you my heart and you breaking it all over again.”
“You don’t have to be scared. No one is going to hurt you, and I won’t leave you ever again. Your heart is safe with me.”
“Of course I need to be scared, someone broke into your house and tried to kill us.”
“And what happened to those guys? Did I let anything happen to you? Did they get anywhere close to you? Have I ever let anyone hurt you? No, I protected you, just like I always have, and I always will.”
“It’s just… it’s hard.” She says, sighing, and I know she’s telling the truth. All of this is way more than I expected it to be. I keep forgetting how hard this must be on her, and all I want to do is ease her discomfort. Show her how much she means to me.
“I get it, it’s going to take time for you to trust me again, but I promise it will happen. Now let’s go and get some dinner.”
By the time we are eating dessert, I am genuinely surprised by how well this night has been going. Grace has been unusually pleasant to me, and I’m not sure if it’s because of her admission earlier or because she had half a bottle of wine with her dinner, either way, I'm not complaining.
“You were right, this place is nice. The food is amazing,” she says, before taking another bite of the white chocolate raspberry cheesecake. “I could get used to this kind of pampering. Cheesecake, wine, steak.” Her eyes twinkle with happiness.
“You can get used to it, and you will. You’ll never have to worry about money again. You want it, it’s yours.”
“What if I want something that can’t be bought with money?”
“I’ll give that to you too.”
“You don’t even know what I was going to say,” she responds, giggling, and taking another sip from her wine glass.
“It doesn’t matter, whatever it is, I’ll make it happen.” Her smile fades for a split second as if she’s been reminded of something she’s been trying to forget. Then as if her expression never changed, she pushes the thought away, the smile on her lips returning once more.
“I’m not ready to go back to the hotel yet.” She taps a finger against her chin. “You know what? I always wanted to go to a club. Like a dance club. You know, where people dance?”
“Is that what people do at a dance club? I had no idea.” I can’t help but joke.
“Stop being a smartass and take me dancing.”
I get up and grab my wallet from my back pocket, pulling out a few hundred-dollar bills to leave on the table. “Ready when you are.” I wiggle my eyebrows.
“I’m always ready,” she beams and gets up. Together we walk out of the restaurant, but not back to the car.
“There is a club within walking distance that I think you’ll like. It’s pretty popular. People even dance there.” I mock, letting out a shocked gasp, and she slugs me in the bicep, making me chuckle. I hold out my elbow for her, and she takes it, slinging her arm over mine as we walk down the street. My whole body feels like it’s on fire, her touch doing crazy things to me.
It’s a short walk, and it isn’t long before we are walking up to the nightclub. A large neon sign spelling The Loft above the entrance illuminates the sidewalk below. There’s a small line at the door, but I walk Grace and myself up to the front, nodding to the bouncer who knows who I am. He nods back and opens the door for us without a word. Perks of being a badass hitman, I assume.
“You come here often?” Grace asks.
“No, but knowing the owner helps get you in faster.”
With Grace still hanging onto my arm for support, I lead her through the club. It’s crowded but not to the point where you have to rub up against people with every step that you take. When we reach the bar, Grace looks positively giddy as she takes in her surroundings. With a huge smile, she swings her gaze to me. “This is nice.”
I open my mouth to respond, but the bartender walks up behind us. “Hey guys, what can I get for you?”
“I’ll have a bottle of Pale Ale,” I tell him before looking over at Grace. She props her elbows up on the bar, putting her hands under her chin while looking back at the bartender, and leaning forward. I know in this position she is giving the guy a great shot of her tits, the question is, was that the plan?