“After the second guy, right?” I nod atNatalia to confirm she remembers events correctly. “Ethan stoppedcoming home to visit for a couple of months.”
As Theresa dabs her eyes with a napkin, shesays, “God, that’s funny.” She looks at me with a wide smile. “Yourmother’s a character, huh?”
“My mother is an undeterred force ofnature.”
“Sounds likeNonna,” Gio says frombehind his hand. He has a mouthful of French fries.
“Mrs. B takes a gentler approach,” Nataliasays. “But the effect is the same.”
Adam lifts his chin and says, “We gotta getback.”
I nod.
The thought of leaving Theresa has mereconsidering my profession. I want to follow her back toConnecticut and build her a conservatory and a greenhouse. There’sso much to say, and there’s no time to go deep. And I’m not havinga conversation with her unless it’s private.
We can’t take a walk in the nearby park. Wecan’t leave here together period. So far – and I know Adam’s beenscanning as much as I have – there’s no indication we’ve beenfollowed. But if I’m seen with Theresa, I might as well draw atarget on her forehead, and that’s not fucking happening.
“Gimme a minute,” I tell everyone. “I’ll beright back.”
I walk through the opening at the back of therestaurant that leads to the bathrooms. There’s a short hallway,and the bathrooms are to the left, but there’s a door at the end ofthe hall to the right. I walk to it, try the handle and find it’slocked. Then I turn, walk back out into the restaurant and go tothe end of the bar. I lift my chin to get the bartenders’attention. While one of the guys is walking toward me, I stick myhand in my front pocket and pull out a couple of Grants.
When the bartender is right in front of me, Islide the bills to him, angle my head toward the hall, and ask,“That a storeroom back there?”
The bartender nods.
“Mind if I use it for about ten minutes? Needto talk to my woman in private.”
His brows go up.
“Not that, man. Really, talking, that’sit.”
He slides the bills into his hand and jamsthem into his front pocket, then walks toward the middle of thebar, opens a drawer under the lip of the wooden counter, and comesback with a key he slides to me.
I lift my chin and say, “Ten minutes.”
As I’m moving to our table, Natalia’s gaze ison me, and her lips are fighting a smile. I shake my head, and shegrins.
Theresa looks up as I’m about to lean down. Igive her a blink of acknowledgment, dip in, and whisper in her ear,“Let’s talk.” I draw back and she nods. To the group, I say, “We’llbe back.” I catch everyone’s knowing looks and don’t fuckingcare.
I help Theresa off her chair, and she takesmy hand, threading her fingers through mine, which hits me in mydick and my heart. I love that she made the first move. Since shesat down at our table, she’s given every indication she’s as intome as I’m into her.
When we get to the back hallway, I pull thekey out of my pocket and let us into the storeroom. I hit the lightswitch and two hanging fluorescent fixtures zap on, barelyilluminating large shelves filled with paper towels, toilet paper,liquid soap, cases of liquor, salt, pepper, mustard, and ketchup,and there are dish towels wrapped in bundles stacked nearly to theceiling. It’s musty with the stench of old cardboard and industrialcleaner, which must be on the other side of the stacks.
“Sorry, it’s not the Ritz, but I wantedsomewhere we could talk in private.”
Before “private” is all the way out of mymouth, she grabs the material below the collar of my button-downand pulls, forcing my upper body to lean down as she comes up andplaces her soft lips to mine. No further encouragement is needed. Iwrap her in my arms and pull her up and flush with my body as mytongue spears into her warm, wet, ambrosia-filled mouth.
Holy shit. Tiny Theresa is a tigress, givingand taking right along with me. She moans, I growl, we cling, andswear to God, I’m about to come in my pants. Gently, I pull back,but I don’t release her as I try to get my breathing undercontrol.
She grins. “Hey, Ross.”
“Wassup, Flower?”
“I knew it was you the moment I saw you.” Shelays her little hand on my face and looks me in the eye. “You?”
I shake my head, and her hand slides down tomy chest where it feels great. Right. Like it belongs there.“Natalia called to invite me to lunch, and told me she was going tobe in Boston because Sofia’s getting married. When I got yourletter, the facts were too aligned to miss you were talking aboutthe same wedding. I did a search to find out who you are.”
“Hmm. Cop brain.” She touched her chest, andI figured it’s an unconscious gesture. Christ. Her scar probablystill hurt. “Did you know I’d be here today?”
