“Alesso!” Elisa screeches, racing toward me with paint smeared on her cheeks. “I did a new painting.” She grabs my hand, tugging on it. “Come look!”
* * *
Serena asks to speak to me after I have read Elisa her bedtime story, and I willingly follow her into her private living room, needing her pretty face, feminine voice, and comforting presence to wipe away the stress of today. “How are you holding up?” I ask her, moving to the small kitchen to fix us some drinks.
“I’m fine.” She snatches my hand. “Go sit in front of the fire,” she demands, giving me a gentle nudge. “I’ll get the wine.”
I’m too weary to protest. The Salerno shit is weighing heavy on my mind, along with the Chicago situation and the reappearance of the threat to Serena. I kick my shoes off and swing my legs up onto the couch. Leaning my head back, I rotate my neck from side to side, hoping to dispel some of the tightness there.
“You seem stressed,” Serena says, setting both glasses of wine down on the coffee table.
“And you’re not?” I look at her upside down.
“I’m not letting what happened with that guy today upset me,” she says, surprising me with her words and her actions when she kneels at the back of the couch. “May I?” She lifts her hands, leaving them hovering over my shoulders.
In a daze, I nod. It’s not like Serena to voluntarily touch me. Though, it has been happening more in the past couple of weeks. Her hands land on my shoulders, and I sink into her touch.
“God, Alesso. Your shoulders are tied into knots.”
“It’s been a draining day.” I fight a moan as her fingers dig into the corded muscle along my shoulders and the top of my back, afraid I might frighten her away.
“Tell me about it.”
“You’re really okay?” I ask, leaning back and looking up at her face.
“I am.” A proud smile graces her gorgeous mouth. “I didn’t freeze today. I made Fabrizio aware of the situation immediately, and I didn’t lose my shit when he left either.”
She really has come far. “That’s good, Rena.”
“I was thinking I should learn self-defense.”
I clamp my mouth shut to stifle a groan when her hands roam lower and she kneads my tense muscles through my shirt.
“Could you help?”
Warning the snake in my pants to calm down, and forcing myself to focus on her words rather than her hands, I slowly compose myself enough to answer. “Of course, I can. But it’s a good idea to enlist Leo’s and Ben’s help too. For times when I might be occupied.”
“I would prefer to train only with you. I can make myself available when you have free time.”
“Okay, if that’s what you want.” I close my eyes briefly, enjoying the feel of her hands on me as she works the knots out of my back. “You should probably learn to shoot too.” Ben has a shooting range on the grounds now, and I think all the women should learn how to handle a gun. We are living in dangerous, uncertain times, and I want to ensure they are all as prepared as they can be.
“I know how to shoot. Dad insisted we learn when we became old enough to go to the gun range. I’m a little rusty though, so I could do with a few refresher sessions.”
“It’s settled then. We’ll do both.”
“Thank you.” Leaning down, she kisses my cheek, shocking the shit out of me. I’m not sure what has gotten into her today, but I like it. “I wanted to talk to you about something,” she adds, and I feel her hands fumble against my shirt.
“You can talk to me about anything, but come sit beside me.” I can tell whatever she has to say is important to her, and we can’t carry on a conversation while she’s kneeling behind me, massaging my shoulders and back, and I’m fighting the growing erection in my pants.
I subtly adjust myself as she gets up and comes around to sit beside me. I hand her a glass of wine while I take the other one, peering into her face and giving her my undivided attention. “What’s up?”
She gulps back a mouthful of wine, coughing a little before she gathers herself. “This might come out of left field, but I want to be honest with you. No, Ineedto be honest with you.”
“You can tell me anything.” She’s nervous as shit, and I want to bundle her in my arms and soothe her concerns.
“Do you ever think about us?” she blurts, her cheeks flaring.
“I’m not sure I follow.”
