Page 22 of Bad Husband

“Fine. I will go and order, feed the dogs, and then we’ll have pizza.”

He left her trailer and the moment he was gone, she instantly regretted it. This was about fighting for herself, to be free from him and the Bove Mafia.

Her stomach grumbled. She was hungry, and pizza sounded so much more appealing than noodles she had to boil. This one time didn’t mean anything. They were sharing pizza.

Putting her bag on the peg she’d placed in her trailer, she made her way through to the bathroom, as she was boiling her ass off and needed to cool down. She took a quick shower to cool off and freshen up.

Once she was done, she dried her body and wrapped her hair in a towel. She felt the need to blow-dry it out, and to be ready in case Marco needed her, and in that moment, she realized what she was doing. She was trying to prepare for him.

Marco had never seen her without her hair done. Even if they made love in the shower, before morning, she’d have taken care of it. With Marco, nothing was ever out of place. She always prepared herself to see him.

This was different. She had no intention of showing off for him, or having anything to do with him. They were done. This was just pizza. So, she kept her hair up in a towel and changed into a pair of loose linen shorts and a crop top, with a built-in bra. No makeup.

She waited until she heard the pizza delivery arrive before stepping out of her trailer. She felt sick to her stomach as she took a seat at the table Marco had pulled between their trailers.

Taking a seat, she watched as he paid the delivery driver, and he turned to look at her. At first, he paused, staring at her, and she raised a brow, expecting him to make some kind of complaint, only he didn’t.

She saw he held three pizza boxes. “I thought we were sharing one,” she said.

“We are, but then I couldn’t decide between a meat feast or your favorite Hawaiian pizza with the pineapple.” He wrinkled his nose, and they were like chalk and cheese when it came to pineapple on pizza. She loved it. That sweetness mixed with the savory meat and cheese. Marco hated pineapple on his pizza.

The third pizza was garlic bread, complete with a cheesy parmesan crust, and that made her mouth water. It looked so good and it smelled even better.

She pulled a slice of pizza, and even though she was at risk of burning the roof of her mouth, she took that chance, because pizza was just too good to pass up. Chiara didn’t want to like it. She wanted to share one piece, and then leave.

Only, she didn’t know how Marco did it, but it was the best pizza she’d ever tried. She picked up a napkin to contain the sauce and of course the drool. She was in fact drooling, it tasted so good. One mouthful was not enough. She went for a second, then a third, and before long, the whole slice of pizza was completely gone.”

She licked her lips and looked toward Marco, as he was already on his third slice of pizza. They never hung out like this, eating pizza in silence.

“Don’t you have something to get back to?” she asked.

“All business is being taken care of,” he said.

“Marco, you could barely leave for our honeymoon, do you expect me to believe that you can be gone this long?”

He took a bite of pizza. “They’ll deal with it, and your dad can handle anything. He’s been doing it a long time.”

When her father was ready to step down and retire, she was aware of his plans to present his region to Marco. He didn’t have a son to take over, so the next person would be his daughter’s husband. She thought it was sweet and charming at one time. Now, she didn’t.

“Do you want to try a bite?” he asked, holding out a piece of pizza.

It felt so normal, and she was tempted to take a bite, but she shook her head, pulled back, and focused on her own food. She didn’t know what game Marco was playing, all she knew was, she wanted no part of it.

Chapter Eight

Learning the ropes at the diner was not hard, but getting Chiara’s attention for longer than two minutes seemed to be the hardest. Marco never had to work this hard to get a woman’s attention. He must have gotten a little cocky in expecting it.

The other waitress, Heather, also seemed quite a bit withdrawn. The bruise around her eye had finally come out, and he recalled how flirty she was the first time he met her. Right now, she didn’t flirt. He’d also overheard a couple of the customers talk to Rosemary, to see if there was anything wrong with her.

Life at the trailer park was ... slow. It was still hot as freaking hell, and he had to walk so many dogs, and Chiara didn’t always give him the time of day. However, what he did do well was go and adopt the rest of the dogs she planned for the two of them to have.

There was no winning. After a full week of trying to break down her barriers, it was a Friday night, and he looked across at her trailer, where she’d left for the night. They shared food every day. Chiara cooked three times for the two of them, while he ordered takeout the other times.

Chiara worked every single day, from Monday to Sunday. The hours were different on a Sunday and Monday, but the rest of the week was manic.

Pulling out his cell phone, he made his way into his trailer but stayed by the door so he could keep an eye on her. He didn’t want her to leave. Angelo answered on the third ring.

“Is this good news to tell me you’re on your way back?” Angelo asked.