Page 4 of Thief of my Heart

I kicked off my boots. And then belched again.

The girl recoiled. “You are disgusting.”

“Maybe,” I said. “But a man’s allowed to be whatever the fuck he wants in his own house, princess.”

Her mouth, curiously heart-shaped, dropped open. “This isn’t your house, asshole. It belongs to my grandfather, in case you forgot on your very first night.”

It was like a gavel fell. Somehow heavier than the one that sent me to prison.

I sat up straight. “You’re one of Mattias’s granddaughters?”

It didn’t make sense. In the picture on his desk, the oldest girls looked like middle-school brats obsessed with Britney Spears. Not this bitchy, holier-than-thou, fully grown, exquisitely filled out…goddess.

Who already hated my guts.

Fuck me.

“This is the breakroom, not your castle, you complete and total ogre,” she was saying. “I’m looking for my nonno, but he wasn’t in his office.”

“He left for a job a while ago. I don’t know when he’ll be back.”

Suddenly, I felt a little embarrassed. The contessa here wasn’t a bitch. Just a kid doing something nice for her grandpa. Probably bringing dinner to the man who was helping me out when no one else would.

Time to eat crow like the juiciest burger on the planet.

“Sorry about earlier.” I stood up quickly, then looked at my hands, which were still covered with smudges of grease, and the top of my coveralls, tied around my waist over a dirty white undershirt. Classy. “I, uh, I’m Mike. Scarrone, that is.”

The hell with it. Tentatively, I crossed the room and extended a paw. Anyone else, I would have spared the mess, but this girl was clearly familiar with the garage and everything that came with it. She already thought I was an unmannered slob. The least I could do was present a hand for her to shake.

She looked at it for a long time. Then, to my surprise, she set the pan on the counter and shook it with a surprisingly strong grip.

I tried not to notice the electricity that danced up my tattoo-covered arm. Tried to ignore the hint of rose and sunshine that suddenly seemed to surround me.

I completely fucking failed.

“I’m Lea,” the girl said. “And it’s fine…Michael. Nonno doesn’t usually let anyone stay here, but I guess he made an exception for you.”

I raised an eyebrow—both at the fact that she was using my formal name and at the information about her grandfather. “Why’s that?”

Lea’s full lips curved upward. The lower one was only a little bigger than the top, and I wanted to suck on it.

“Because you’re an ex-con, and he owes Father Deflorio a favor. The priest must like you.”

Once again, reality slapped me in the face. So much for moving on from the past. “They told you about me?”

“As in, told me not to talk to you? They did.” She shrugged, like directly disobeying my boss and her grandfather was no more consequential than spilling milk. “But I’m a grown woman. I can make my own choices.”

I swallowed. I should have told her to listen to her grandpa and go. That he had her best interests at heart. That I had no interest in crossing him or in losing my one chance at getting back on my feet before I’d barely managed to stand upright.

Instead, I nodded. “Oh. Well. I, uh, appreciate it.”

Her eyes flickered over me, taking in the tattoos cover both of my arms, the smudges of grease on my hands and face, and the two-day scruff on my chin. I felt like I was being undressed. It was unnerving but not unpleasant.

“What did you do?” she wondered bluntly.

I stiffened. That green-eyed inspection was hard to read. She was intrigued, maybe. But also a little intimidated.

That’s all right, sweetheart. It’s probably better for both of us if you’re scared.

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