Page 2 of Hot for Her Italian Mafia

It’s not like our family can afford another tanked salary.

“Aren’t you sexy?” a voice from behind pulls me back to reality.

Shit. I knew my luck would run out, but couldn’t there have been a few more hours before the turn?

“Thank you,” I say but don’t turn around.

I’ve learned to accept a compliment, reject advances, and move on. There’s no use arguing with someone a few drinks down. They’re too far gone to see logic or reason. In a sports bar, it seems their mental faculties sink even lower. The tight shirts and short shorts make men go mad.

Good for the wallet but bad for the soul.

“Turn around. I want to get a better look at you,” he says. His voice lacks the distinct drunken slur I’m used to.

A man with confidence when sober can be a pretty dangerous adversary in this game.

“Not right now. I’m getting ready to take another order out,” I say. Oscar’s packing food plates into the window, and I’ll be happy to serve whoever’s table it is if it gets me away from this creep.

“Come on, babe, don’t be like that,” he scoffs. “Show me what you’re working with.”

He puts a hand on my shoulder. A bone-aching chill storms through my body at the feeling of his gnarled fingers stroking bare skin.

“Say whatever you like but don’t touch me,” I bark, spinning on my heels. My finger hovers dangerously close to his nose from my fit of protest. Through the wall of noise, my voice doesn’t carry far.

My heart flutters in my chest. A concoction of rage and fear blend into one when I come face to face with the man who would’ve taken things further had I not stopped him. He towers over me, with a frame double as wide. I can’t meet his face even on my tippy-toes.

“Relax.” He raises his hands in surrender and takes a step back. “I’m not going to hurt you. I’m just an inspector.”

“How about you do it from your seat like a normal person?”

“Everything okay here?” Oscar’s gruff voice comes from behind. Closer than I thought he’d be. He managed to slip out of the kitchen and behind the bar in an instant.

“This guy giving you trouble, Josie?” Oscar wipes leftover food from his fingertips with a dirty dishcloth.

“No trouble,” the guy says, sliding a hand into his pocket and drawing a neatly rolled cigarette. He wedges it between his lips before speaking again. “I was shooting my shot. I can take the hint.”

He lights up and drifts back into the crowd, disappearing among the sea of faces.

“You okay?” Oscar asks when it’s only us left. His eyes never leave the freak who touched me.

“Yeah, I’m used to it.” At least he only touched my shoulder. Everyone else goes for the ass. “I’ll shrug it off before I bring the next table their meal.”

“That’s my girl.”

But it doesn’t even go as far as the next table to forget. Luca’s burly form filling out the booth seat clears my mind off the whole situation.

Okay, that’s it. Enough of this. I’ve spent so much time fawning over Luca, and it never leads anywhere. Before the night is through, I’m going to do it. I’ll introduce myself to the hulking slab of meat perched in the back corner of the Sunken Sailor. I can’t go another night without it. I’m starting to go crazy in my fantasies, and it won’t get better if I don’t bite this bullet.

Warmth swells straight to my cheeks at picturing his voice for the first time. I can almost hear it already. Deep, husky, raw. The voice of a man who’s conquered this world a thousand times over. Now he’s in the market for a new prize.

I’m going to put myself on show.

CHAPTER 2

Luca

Ifeel her eyes on me without having to see them. A sixth sense I’ve developed spending every night in this bar, keeping an ever-watchful eye on Josie.

Three months.

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