Her flirty smile made me lose my breath. “Shh. Your brother is talking.”
I was listening. I was so fucking proud of Dillon. When he’d returned from his time in the Merchant Marines, he turned his life around. No more involvement in gangs. He stayed away from selling drugs, unlike Denim. However, Dillon had dabbled in selling a gun or two, which surprisingly began before my own involvement.
As he addressed the audience, with confidence in his delivery and excitement in his voice, he was inspiring me more and more to become a better member of society myself. From a quick sweep of the crowd, it was clear that everyone was equally affected in some way by Dillon’s speech, especially his wife, Maggie, who sat next to me.
I abandoned Joy for the moment, leaning close to Maggie. “He’s turned out the best in the family.”
Her green gaze flickered my way, honor and love washing over her. “I know. You should take notes.”
I could tell her that I had plans for the future that didn’t involve the cartel or the weapons trade, but until I was actually out, she wouldn’t believe anything I said.
Dillon’s speech ended, and he thanked the guests.
Applause erupted around the room as guests gave him a standing ovation, and I was one of them.
“The auction table will be open for another hour,” Dillon said. “In the meantime, enjoy the festivities, dancing, and bidding on the auction items. There are some high-end items on several tables throughout the ballroom.”
Grace rose from the seat beside Denim. “Excuse me, I need to use the ladies’ room, then I’ll be at the auction tables. I have my eye on a Christmas gift for someone.”
Dominic, Grace’s date, said something to her that I couldn’t make out.
I had respect for Dom. He was an ex-military soldier who’d been instrumental in helping Grace when she found her way to Boston after escaping her sex-trafficking captor. The two had had an on-again, off-again relationship for the last several years.
“I’m fine,” she said to Dom. “I don’t need anyone to hold my hand.” She glared at Denim and me.
So far, Mateo hadn’t made any attempts on Grace. Maybe because he already had the Holy Grail of prizes—Alexa Mendoza. Rosario was freaking out that Mateo had kidnapped her daughter. The former gang-member-turned-nutjob had actually snagged Alexa when she was coming out of a mall in Pennsylvania. Her roommate told Rosario that Alexa had gone shopping and never returned. But the roommate hadn’t been worried since Alexa slept at her boyfriend's house most of the time, something Rosario had been unaware of.
“You guys are suffocating her,” Maggie mumbled as Grace left the table. “I really wish you would?—”
“Don’t finish that sentence, Mags,” I warned, knowing Joy was listening. “It’s critical right now that Grace is not alone. Dom”—I tipped my head at Grace’s retreating form— “move.”
The band started in, and couples converged on the dance floor in front of the stage.
“Would you like to dance, Duke?” Joy asked, probably trying to keep the drama from escalating.
Dom obeyed my command, following Grace through the ballroom, as I got up from the table and held out my hand to Joy. “Sure.”
After we blended in with other couples on the dance floor, Joy started in. “What’s going on? You seem irritated with Grace, just like you did the other night at the club.”
“I would rather not talk about it.” My tone was not as measured as I would’ve liked.
I placed my hand on her lower back while my other one tangled in her hand.
As the band played a rendition of James Taylor’s “Fire and Rain,” I relaxed for the moment and got lost in Joy— the feel of her heated skin against my palm, her vanilla fragrance drifting into my nose, and the way her big hazel eyes sucked me. Nothing else mattered. Not even Mateo Alvarez or the meeting that was taking place next weekend. Rosario was scheduled to arrive in town on Thursday, and Friday was D-Day. Mateo wouldn’t give us a location yet.
“My mom loved James Taylor.” Sorrow coated her voice. “God, I miss her, especially around this time of year.” A tear cascaded down her cheek. “I’m sorry I’m getting all emotional.”
“Hey, don’t apologize. Grief is difficult to deal with. Look, I owe you an apology. I was harsh a moment ago, and I shouldn’t have ditched you that morning at the bar.”
Another tear fell. “What’s happening between us is maddening. I’m not sure what to do anymore.”
“I don’t know either, babe.” I held her tighter as we were barely moving in a sea of couples, the band still playing James Taylor. “What I do know is when I hold you, the world makes sense, Joy,” I whispered to her.
She squeezed my hand that she was holding as if she felt the same way.
“I need you,” I continued, her emotional outburst driving me to tell the truth. To tell her who I really was. “I’m a mess without you. You’re constantly in my thoughts. I have no appetite. I can’t even sleep in my own fucking bed. I smell you on the pillows. I see you naked, us making the best fucking music ever. Tell me you feel the same way.”
“What if I do? Then what?”
