Empire (Eagle Elite Book 7) (35 page)

“That’s how you know you’re mafia. When someone says you’re bad at lying or killing, you actually get upset and feel the need to prove yourself.”

I smirked. “Fine, you drive like hell. Blind grandmas with blue hair drive better than you do. A horny tom cat who couldn’t reach the pedals would be a better choice.”

Val grabbed the bags from the back seat. “He’s horny why?”

“All tom cats are horny.” I shrugged. How did that slip? Because I was pent up with aggression toward her, and all the wrong kind of aggression, the kind that had me thinking about stupid shit, like chocolate chips.

And them melting on different parts of her body.

A wave of heat boiled beneath the surface of my skin, sizzling, warning me that I was in danger of seducing her again. I gulped, the need to run was so strong, so intense that I nearly doubled over.

My body’s physical reaction was that terrifying.

Forget guns.

War.

Blood.

Torture.

Dismemberment.

Val. Was. Terrifying.

Fingers shaking, I grabbed the last bag and stood as she walked briskly into the house.

I stared.

At the house.

My fingers clenching the plastic bag. I gave myself a few seconds to just breathe without the choking sensation of her nearness taking over. Because at times, that’s what it felt like, as if she was everywhere, and I couldn’t escape her, and the more I felt her, the more I was driven to want to be near her.

Running. It sounded easier than walking into that house.

Running. It would always be easier.

If I ran, would she get over it? At this point, my attachment felt stronger than hers, but I had no idea of knowing. All I knew is that I had made her a blood oath, a promise, and it was one of the hardest things I’d done, because I wanted to do the opposite.

I wanted to be the liar.

The one who betrayed her again.

Because easy had swiftly turned into comfort. And I was so damn sick of feeling discontent.

Over Andi.

Over my changing feelings toward Val.

Co-exist. That’s what Val had said. By taking a step toward my house, by going into my kitchen, I wasn’t pushing Andi out.

I was simply… letting Val in.

With a deep breath, I walked in through the still-open door and slammed it behind me then made my way into the kitchen where Val was already pulling out a shit load of stuff I’d never once in my life used.

From measuring cups.

To a bad ass pink mixer I don’t remember buying.

To cookie cutters that were in the shapes of guns. Huh, who knew?

“Where did all of this come from?”

Val froze, her body hovering over the sink and she washed her hands. “The store.” She turned off the water and grabbed a towel.

“The store.” I nodded slowly. “Could have guessed that. Did you buy it?”

“Maybe?” Her face scrunched up and then her face turned threatening, I took a step back. “Look.” She pointed her finger in my direction. “You wouldn’t even talk to me. I almost starved to death! Once my credit card came, I went… shopping.”

“Let me get this straight.” I ignored the starving dig since it made me feel like shit. “You just turned twenty, and your very first purchase with your shiny new card — the one without a limit — was a pink mixer?”

“And cookie trays,” she grumbled.

“And—” I pointed “—measuring cups?”

She huffed. “I live dangerously.”

“Yes. That was my exact response, in my head, holy shit, she’s a risk taker. How much did that mixer set you back? A hundred dollars, two?”

“Six.” She grinned, while I nearly choked on my tongue.

“For that?” I pointed at the pale pink contraption. “That’s—”

“What?” She cupped her ear. “You don’t want any cookies?”

I glared. “It’s a beautiful… cookie maker.”

“Mixer.”

“Whatever.”

“Okay slave, I’ll bake, you get the super fun job of cleaning up.” Her grin widened as she sidestepped me on the way to the fridge. “And I’m really, really messy.”

I swallowed.

Twice.

And then counted to ten so I wouldn’t tug her backward and kiss every inch of her exposed skin.

“Noted,” I finally coughed out. “Do you need an apron or—”

“Nope.” She thrust the egg carton into the air. “The dirtier, the more fun. Baking should never be clean, Sergio.”

I couldn’t look away from her vibrant face as she started tossing ingredients into the mixing bowl, humming to herself while she bobbed her head around, every few minutes she’d stop and turn in a circle around the kitchen like she was confused.

I had work to do.

Correction, I had work I
should
do.

Important work.

Life and death work.

Hacking work.

Instead, I stayed glued to the barstool and watched while more and more flour made its way onto her cheeks rather than the mixing bowl. As she dumped in chocolate chips, she started swiping handfuls until it was apparent that at least half of the bag was never going to make it into the dough.

When she turned around, I dipped my finger into the mixing bowl, and swiped a glob of dough and licked. Damn, it was amazing.

She turned back around and narrowed her eyes. “You did something.”

“Nope.”

She crossed her arms as a piece of hair fell across her face and kissed the flour on her right cheek. “I think we’ve established you’re a horrible liar. Did you steal dough?”

Shit. I gulped. “Define steal.”

“Really doubtful that I need to explain stealing to someone who’s a part of organized crime.”

“That’s harsh.” I smirked. “I’m the good guy, remember?”

“If the good guy kills people then marks them on his body, sure, you’re the good guy.”

“They deserved to die.”

She shrugged and examined the bowl. “Fingerprints.”

“Those aren’t mine,” I kept lying. I don’t even know why the hell I would lie about something so stupid, maybe I liked her reaction. Holy shit, who was I kidding? Arguing with her was better than being ignored any day of the week.

Folks, Sergio Abandonato has officially reverted back to the first grade.

Up next watch how he steals all her goldfish and stuffs them in his mouth then pushes her down by the merry-go-round.

“Right here.” She pointed with a knife. “One very large finger, accompanied by two scratches from the lazy knuckles on the side.”

I rolled my eyes. “My hands aren’t lazy. Believe me.”

“If memory serves…”

My jaw dropped. “Are you shitting me right now?”

Her expression was complete innocence. “What?”

Was she talking about sex? Or was I just reading into things. Did it matter? I narrowed my eyes as I slowly made my way around the counter and dipped two fingers into the dough and shoved them into my mouth.

Her face quickly went from innocent to horrified. “You don’t put your fingers in food!”

I burst out laughing. She didn’t.

“Val…” I tried to keep myself from laughing harder. “Do you have a food thing?”

“I d-don’t.” She crossed her arms. “I just. It’s gross when people shove their fingers into fresh food. I mean who knows where your hands have been?”

“They’ve been on you.” I moved a hand to her hip. “Is that gross too?”

She glared. “Yes.”

“Now who’s lying?”

“Still you.”

I moved my other hand so both were bracing her hips. “So, you don’t like people touching your food while you bake. Anything else I should know?”

“I like to wait.”

“Hmm?” I was beyond distracted by the way she felt between my hands. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t cheat. I never taste my own cooking until the finished product. It builds up the taste more… it gives you something to salivate over… something to be anxious for.”

Shit. I was so screwed where she was concerned.

“I promise, I won’t do it again without permission.”

Her smile about knocked me over. “Thank you.” She reached up and kissed my cheek, then jerked back as if suddenly realizing what she’d just done.

I gripped her wrists holding her right in front of me so I had easy access to her lips.

“Please don’t,” she whispered.

“Why?”

“Because you’re going to kiss me. And I’m going to forget to be strong, because your kisses make me forget. And I’m already having trouble remembering why I hate you. It was only a day ago that you forgot my birthday. You can’t just kiss me and make it all better.”

“I know that.”

“No, you think you know that. I can’t… we can’t.” She jerked her hands free. “From here on out, your kisses have to be earned.”

“Are we going to get some sort of sticker chart for this, or am I on my own?”

Her lips twitched with a smile. “I haven’t figured that part out yet.”

“Let me know when the cookies are ready…” I wiped some flour from her nose. “And Val?”

“Hmm?” She touched her face where my fingers had grazed.

“What’s your favorite color?”

Her cheeks blushed bright red. “Pink.”

“Pink,” I repeated. “Okay.”

“Sergio?”

“What?” I turned back around.

“What’s yours?”

“Pink.”

She tossed a measuring cup in my direction while I dodged out of the way laughing.

“Be serious!” Her color returned to normal.

I eyed her up and down, not realizing until today that my favorite color had a lot to do with her. I’d never really given much thought to it. Andi and I had joked but I’d never seriously considered the question.

Until now.

I locked eyes with her and whispered, “Brown.” Then turned around and left the room.

…A lover is more condoling. –A Midsummer Night’s Dream

Valentina

I LEFT THE
mess for Sergio and went to my room to grab some books. I wasn’t sure if he was going to actually want to hang out the rest of the day or if his little moment of peacemaking was over.

When I finally made it back down to the kitchen it was to see the man himself washing dishes.

If I thought Sergio kissing me, hovering over me as his lips found my neck over and over again was sexy — I was wrong.

Sergio bent over a sink.

I gasped.

I didn’t mean to.

He quickly turned, water splatters had part of his white T-shirt sticking to his abs in all the wrong places. Places that made my control slowly crumble into tiny little pieces of dust.

I needed a blindfold or something.

“I stole two cookies,” he confessed after turning back around and scrubbing the next dish. “But they were finished, so…”

“I don’t police the product once it’s done, so you’re safe.” I smiled as he hunched his shoulders as though he was gearing up for a heated discussion where I would cut him off from all sugar. “Thanks for cleaning up.”

“Yeah well, it was part of the deal.” He put the last measuring cup on the towel and dried it off then turned around in a semi-circle.

“Third drawer to your right.” I pointed.

“I knew that,” he said gruffly, grabbing the cups and tossing them in the drawer only to stare extra hard at the cookie trays.

“Do you know where anything in your kitchen is?”

“I don’t bake.”

“Nooooo.” I grinned then grabbed the cookie sheets and put them in the big drawer underneath the oven. Then I opened the pantry and went over to grab the heavy stand mixer.

“I got it.” He had it in one hand like it weighed nothing.

I pointed at the bottom shelf.

The smell of cookies clung in the air.

I had no other plans for the rest of the day except to read. I’d left my books on the kitchen bar.

“Are you going to read?” He grabbed all three and handed them over.

“Yeah.” I mean if I had a choice, I’d probably rather have a heated makeout session with him, but reading, I could read.

“I’ve got a better idea instead, if you’re up for it.”

I hugged my books like a shield. “Let’s hear it.”

“Swimming.”

“Swimming,” I repeated.

“Swimming.” With a nod at the window, he confirmed what he’d already said. “That is, unless you can’t swim.”

“Why swimming?”

“It’s one of my favorite things to do, and I figure that if I piss you off you can just drown me and put yourself out of your misery really fast without having to use any sort of murder weapon. Really, it’s a win-win.”

“Why would I drown you?”

“I missed your birthday. I abandoned you. Took your virginity then smashed the shit out of some glassware. Embarrassed you in front of new friends. Betrayed you. Lied—”

I held up my hand. “Repeating all of your sins doesn’t really make me feel like forking over forgiveness.”

“That’s the whole point, Val. I’ll keep reminding you until you trust me enough to know… it won’t happen again.”

“I don’t,” I said in a quiet voice. “I wish I trusted you, but I don’t.”

His voice fell to a rough whisper, “You will.”

“I don’t think I can… not until you show me everything, not just the pretty parts.”

“Did you just call me pretty?”

“Yes. You’re beautiful. Like a girl. Wow, what skin products do you use?”