Page 57 of His Tesoro

She just hummed and speared another bite of waffle. But instead of bringing it to her own lips, she twisted around and held the fork to mine. My lips parted of their own volition and I took the waffle, chewing it slowly.

I was so shocked by my own behavior that I almost missed the smile tugging at my wife’s lips. She ate a bite before bringing the fork to my lips again. I should refuse. Mafia Dons didn’t eat waffles. But again, I found my lips parting and maple syrup exploding on my tongue.

“What’s this delivery?”

I blinked, trying to remember what we’d been talking about. I honestly wasn’t sure I could remember my own fucking name right now.

“Right,” I said, clearing my throat. “You’ll have to wait to find out.”

“Very mysterious.” She leaned back into my chest with a smile and I tightened my hold on her. Just to make sure she didn’t fall. Her body was so soft against mine, fitting against my chest like she was made for me.

“What should I bake today? Any requests?”

I ate another bite of waffle off her fork. “I don’t eat sweets.”

Her lips curled into a smile. “Right. Made Men probably only consume protein powder and steel nails.”

I grunted. Her pretty little smile had stolen all my words.

“I have to go.” And yet my feet stayed glued to the floor.

Sofiya twisted in my arms. “I hope you have a good day. Do good Mafia work.”

My eyes flitted to her lips—pink, pouty, and perfect. I released my hold on her, retreating from the kitchen before I gave in to the temptation to kiss her.

31

SOFIYA

Igrinned as the door shut behind Matteo. My husband might pretend to be cold and distant, but I could still feel the ghost of his touch against my skin. It made me crave more… more than friendship. I wanted it all, and I was starting to think it might even be possible.

I finished up breakfast and got ready. I wanted to try a new hairstyle—a crown braid. Mila and I used to spend hours doing each other’s hair to pass the time. I had to take lots of breaks because my shoulders were hurting, but I thought the braid turned out really cute.

I swapped my wheelchair for my rollator and headed back to the kitchen, flipping through some recipes I’d saved on my phone. I couldn’t figure out what I wanted to make, and the silence of the apartment felt too loud. I headed to the front door and peeked out to find Angelo at his post.

“Good morning, bella. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. I was just—” I hesitated. Was I being needy and stupid?

He raised his eyebrows.

“Do you want to come inside?”

Now it was time for him to look unsure. Was it because he didn’t want to, or because he wasn’t supposed to? It was bleak if he truly preferred to stand in an empty foyer for hours than spend time with me.

“You can guard me more easily from inside, right?”

He huffed a smile. “I guess that’s true. I’ll come for a little while, if that’s what you want.”

I beamed at him, opening the door wider so he could fit his large frame through.

“I was going to bake something. Do you think Matteo would like traditional cannolis the best? Probably, right? I had this idea for cannoli cupcakes that I thought would be super cute,” I mused.

Angelo chuckled. “I’m not sure the Boss is much for desserts.”

I smiled to myself. It seemed my husband hid his love for sweets from everyone but me. The day after our movie night, I’d woken up to find the popcorn bowl empty. At first I thought Matteo must have thrown out the caramel corn, but it wasn’t in the trash. I had a sneaking suspicion that my husband had eaten it all.

“He seems to like the things I make.”

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