He raises his hands. “Easy. I’m just saying—a little time away might do you both good.”
“I think I know what’s best for my own marriage.”
Carmela sets down her fork. “Are you two finished with the pissing contest? Because I’d love to enjoy the rest of this meal in peace.”
Marco laughs and raises his glass to her. “Touché. I see why Silvo’s so taken with you.”
She rolls her eyes. “Flattery won’t work on me, Mr. Rossi.”
“Noted. I’ll have to try harder.”
I drain my wine and set the glass down harder than necessary. “That’s my wife you’re flirting with.”
“Just keeping you on your toes.”
I shake my head, but I can’t quite suppress my grin. “You’re impossible.”
“Part of my charm.” Marco shrugs. “Besides, someone needs to keep you humble now that you’re a married man.”
“My wife handles that just fine on her own.”
Carmela gives me a dry look, but there’s something softer in her eyes now. “I do what I can.”
Marco laughs and raises his glass to her. “And doing a stellar job. I’ve never seen Silvo whipped.”
“Watch it,” I say, though I’m fighting a smile. Because it’s true. I’m besotted with my wife, even if she hates my guts. “Married or not, I can still kick your ass.”
“Easy, big guy. Just having some fun.” Marco’s expression softens. “You know I’m happy for you, right?”
I nod, the truth of it settling over me. “I know. Even if you’re a pain in the ass.”
He clutches his chest. “And here I thought we were friends.”
“Don’t push it.”
He grins and takes another sip. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”
I glance at Carmela, who’s watching our exchange with clear amusement. The wariness has faded from her eyes, replaced by something gentler. I reach for her hand. “Sorry about him. He doesn’t come with an off switch.”
She squeezes my fingers, a genuine smile touching her lips. “It’s nice, actually. That you have someone like him. Even if he’s a troublemaker.”
That smile does something to my chest—makes it tight in a way that has nothing to do with the Scotch. Maybe there’s hope for us after all.
“I prefercharming rogue, thank you very much,” Marco says.
I snort. “More like incorrigible bastard.”
“NowthatI’ll drink to,” Marco replies.
We all laugh, and for a moment, the weight lifts. The arrangement that brought Carmela and me together, the responsibilities waiting outside this room, the fact that my wife still looks at me with caution more often than affection—all of it fades. Right now, it’s just three people sharing good food, decent wine, and better company.
I watch Carmela laugh at another one of Marco’s jokes, and something shifts inside me. This marriage started as an obligation, but maybe—just maybe—it could become something more. I’ve conquered territories, eliminated rivals, and built an empire. Surely I can win my own wife’s heart.
For tonight, that’s enough. Tomorrow, I’ll start working on forever.
12
CARMELA
