Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 75683 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75683 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
“I get that. I think everyone always wonders if the other way is the better way. I used to fight to no end with my brothers, then go to bed thinking how nice and quiet and stress-free it would be without having them around, always in my shit, never minding their business. But the older I get, the more I see how valuable all that was. Teaches you patience,” he said. “And that shit can’t always be about you. Good shit to take into adulthood. Dessert?” he asked, passing a menu toward me.
I was so stuffed that my pants were biting in, but I wanted another ten minutes, another hour, another week talking to this man.
So I ordered dessert.
And I picked at it and sipped at my coffee, listening to his deep, soothing voice, asking him as many questions as I could just to keep him talking.
But, eventually, everything, even the best date—that was probably not an actual date—of my life had to come to an end.
Nino paid, waving off my offer to at the very least leave the tip, and dropping a fifty on the table for the server, before standing, and waiting for me to walk down the deck with him once again.
There was this aching sadness in me then, knowing this was coming to an end, wondering if I would get another chance.
Then we were walking into the restaurant where several men were standing around a table talking.
From their handsome faces, I figured maybe his family, and for a short moment, I was trying to put faces to names and stories that Nino had told me already.
But then a new man was walking up, and his hand went and pushed his jacket back.
I saw the gun.
And the closeness of his hand to it.
Once again, I wouldn’t say it was bravery.
Just instinct.
Because I was jerking away from Nino, and shoving him as hard as I could as I called out.
“Gun!”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Nino
I told myself I would step away.
Create some distance.
I wanted to see if some space would dull the intensity of these feelings I had growing in me toward the woman who had no fucking idea who I was, who my family was, what we did for a living, the shady shit I could never talk about to anyone.
Not just the imports.
But the murders.
The forced confessions.
The violent, ugly shit that I knew someone as bright and good as Savannah would never be able to accept.
It would do no good to let myself keep getting more tangled up in her when I knew she would not feel the same way once she learned the truth.
Still, though, I found myself driving in the direction of The Brunch Bar after work, when I knew she would be done with her day, and needing a ride home.
What I really needed was to be heading to the home improvement store, picking up supplies, throwing myself back into work on my house.
But I couldn’t seem to fucking think of anything other than Savannah. And the early dinner I wanted to treat her to at Famiglia.
I’d barely remembered to clear it with Luca before I brought her there.
There was always kitchen staff and a server on duty even in hours when the restaurant wasn’t open, there simply to cater to the needs of Family members who dropped in and out at all different times of the day to handle business.
Still, it would have been rude to bring a date without asking.
Jesus.
No.
Not a date.
I had to stop thinking of her like that.
But after carrying her up the stairs, standing with her on the deck, then sharing a meal with her where I detailed so many minute parts of my life and my family to an eager and interested Savannah, yeah, it was getting harder and harder not to think of it in those terms.
It wasn’t that a date was something new to me.
I was a grown-ass man. I’d shared many a meal with women before.
But nothing had ever felt quite as engaging as a dinner with Savannah was. She leaned in close, beautiful eyes bright. She laughed and had that megawatt smile stretching across her face. She asked questions, then follow-up questions that showed how close of attention she was paying.
I fucking liked the woman.
A lot.
Too much.
Way too fucking much when I’d already gotten her fucking shot.
The bill coming was an emotional disappointment, but I had to admit that it was a logical necessity.
Get her home, drop her off, and get a little more distance again.
There was no future for us.
She was too good a person to shack up with a mobster.
Hell, she’d even made that joke about movie mafia bosses.
I needed to get my head out of the clouds.
We were just walking back into the dining room when my brother Massimo was walking up to the group of our cousins.