Page 30 of Love Him Like Water

“Made a mess of you,” he said, then slid off of the bed, coming back again with a warm washcloth, wiping between my legs, then his release off of my thigh, before disappearing into the bathroom again.

Alone, all I felt was a deep-rooted sort of joy as all those fantasies I’d had came true.

Renzo came back out a few moments later, climbing into the bed, and pulling up the covers.

He didn’t reach for me, and I tried not to allow the disappointment that started to build to grow.

He’d shown me softness and generosity and sweet words.

I had to learn to be excited by what I got, not constantly wanting more.

So I snuggled into the covers, turned toward him this time, and let myself drift off to sleep, contentment warm in my chest.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Lore

When I woke, he was gone yet again, and I tried not to focus on that, choosing to relive the memories of the night before, wrapping them around me like a warm blanket, reminding myself that this was what I always wanted.

The goodness and softness of a hard man.

Something he saved just for me.

“You’re leaving?” Elian asked, jolting upright as I moved out of the door of the apartment that afternoon, determined not to sit around and get lost in my thoughts, knowing I would only start to mope as the hours passed, and Renzo didn’t come rushing home to me.

“Yes,” I said, nodding, trying to sound more confident than I felt.

“Good for you,” he said, offering me a small smile.

I half expected him to follow me.

But he seemed to be fixed on his post.

And I guess that made sense.

I knew that the bosses of these families were paranoid about their homes, never wanting outsiders to be able to get in.

My father had even been paranoid when my brothers started to date in their teens, bringing their girls home. As if the government might be recruiting and using teen girls as spies or something.

We never had cleaning ladies or even handymen in the house who weren’t in the family or close friends.

So I guess having a guard outside of Renzo’s door was one surefire way to make sure no one who wasn’t supposed to be there entered.

It felt strange walking out of that building. Almost like a teen sneaking out of the house for the first time.

I didn’t know this area well, but after I’d agreed to marry Renzo, I’d taken to studying maps of Brooklyn, wanting not to seem ignorant of my new home. So as I got a look at the signs on the cross streets, I felt I got my bearings well enough to continue in a direction.

I had emptied my bank account before the wedding, and everything I had to my name was in one of the bags in the closet.

I’d taken a small stack of it with me, not knowing what I might need as I walked around the neighborhood that Renzo called home.

It suited him, I felt.

Everywhere you walked around the Costa family’s headquarters was full of well-dressed people. Men in suits. Women with designer bags and heels.

This area was much more casual. Just normal people going about their lives.

I felt like I somehow fit in a bit more here as well as I dipped into a chain coffee place, getting my first fancy coffee—full of caramel and whipped cream and sugar—and nearly moaning at the taste as I stood there and sipped it.

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