Page 80 of Unholy Vows (Original Sin)

I snorted. “Why would I? Like you need anything else to make you cockier?” The last word seemed to stick on my lips, making me laugh. “Cocky, get it?” I laughed a little more. I probably shouldn’t have drunk so much when unpacking. I hadn’t realized I was so wasted until this moment.

Renato raised an eyebrow at me.

I swayed into him. “Cocky, because you have a bigyou know,”I explained in a loud whisper.

He caught me when I nearly toppled over. “Who is responsible for this?”

“Giada helped me unpack.”

“Enough said. Did you eat dinner?”

“I forgot.” I sighed. “I was trying to read your book, but the words kept moving around.”

I closed my eyes for a second, and the world lurched. Yikes. Okay, that was definitely too much tequila for a lightweight like me.

“Come on, little nurse. Let’s get you something to eat.”

I opened my eyes. Renato stood beside me, holding his hand out. My stomach growled at the prospect of food, and he chuckled.

“I don’t need help. I’m not drunk,” I protested as I stood and immediately fell against him.

“Sure, you aren’t.” He ran his gaze down my outfit, and his eyes darkened. “I knew you’d look good in the clothes I bought you.”

“Ionlyhave clothes to wear that you bought me.”

“Good.” He pulled me closer, running his hands from my shoulders to my waist.

His touch felt good. I melted against him. “Except for Carmella’s old leggings,” I pointed out.

“I’m having them burned. Come on, let’s find something for you to eat,” he said gruffly, brushing my hair back from my face.

* * *

My new husband could cook.In my semi-drunk state, all I could do was watch him with my mouth hanging slightly open. Hopefully, there was no drool.

He rolled his shirtsleeves up to the elbows and just took charge in the kitchen. We were alone, the clock ticking toward midnight. I sat at the island, leaning my head on my hand and trying to stay upright, observing the man who had stolen my life and replaced it with another. He was cooking me an omelet, and it was disturbingly attractive.

The air filled with the smell of ripe cherry tomatoes, chopped basil, and pressed garlic, sizzling gently in olive oil.

“I feel like I should offer to help,” I muttered.

“And that’s your problem right there,anima mia. You don’t always have to help. Sometimes, you can let people do things for you,” Renato said, cracking eggs with one hand and whisking with the other.

His strong, tattooed wrist rotating the whip with ease did something to me. God, I really needed to sober up. I played with the chess pieces from a board lying on the counter. I’d seen Giada and Sonny playing there in the morning sometimes.

“Spare me the armchair psychology BS, or I’ll do you, too,” I warned him.

He laughed. “I’d love for you to do me,bambina.”

Ignoring the innuendo, I wrapped my arms around my knees and pushed against my stomach, hoping the position would muffle the growling. Now that I could smell food, my stomach had woken up and demanded to be fed.

“Fine. You’re the king of the castle,” I proclaimed. “And everyone else is locked outside. You have to control everything around you, every player on the board is yours to move…You can’t look away or relax, because then if you make a mistake, you might lose someone and have to add another tally mark.” I pointed toward his chest.

He’d left the omelet to cook and leaned over the counter toward me. I turned to the chessboard, desperate for anything at all to distract me from the beauty of this man in the low lighting. I chose black for Renato, because of course. I pushed back all the other figures, isolating the king.

“Very astute. Maybe drunk therapy should be a thing,” he started.

I brought my finger to his lips and shushed him, braver in my drunkenness than I normally was.

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