Page 92 of City of Wind and Lies

Letting him lead us back to the kitchen, I take a seat at the table and pepper him with questions between bites of food. Bowie has gotten better about sharing more aspects of the outfit with me, and the more he does, the more fascinating I find it all. The bad boy thing has always been hot, and having a man who will literally kill for you? That doesn't just make my panties melt, it makes them fucking disintegrate. But what I love most is knowing that the playful and sweet way he acted this morning is reserved completely for me.

"But the girls," I swallow roughly. "They're okay?"

"They're... unharmed." He puts his fork down on his empty plate. "It seems he kept them drugged awaiting whatever his next step was going to be."

Pushing to my feet, I take my bowl to the counter and open the dishwasher. "What happens to them now?"

"Well, all but two have been returned to their families," Bowie says, bringing his own plate over and loading our dishes. He leans back against the island, stuffing his hands into his pockets. "The other two left for Vegas last night. Nicky and Zia Lisa offered to help them here, but neither wanted to be in Chicago any longer. So, I made some calls and the outfit out there still owed me a favor, so I cashed in."

I don't have words as my hand comes to rest over my heart and a sense of pride swells in my chest, confirming what I've known all along- Bowie is my favorite shade of gray.

Sal is waiting beside the jet talking to Rocco when we pull up to the hangar later that morning. I'm all sorts of anxious to be spending the night at Bowie's parents’ house. Sal still doesn't seem to be my greatest admirer, but Corinne on the other hand seems to think I'm single-handedly saving the Sorrentino legacy.

I'm not sure what the guy's got against me, and no matter how much Bowie assures me that's just how he is, I can't shake the feeling. Something in the way Sal looks at me, like he's studying me, keeps me on edge.

Bowie loads my suitcase into his father's Bentley, slamming the trunk shut and checking his watch. "I’d better get going."

"And you'll be back tomorrow?"

Turning on his heels, he closes the distance between us, tipping my chin up with his fingers. "'First thing, and I'll even take you and Drea out to brunch."

I circle my arms around his waist. "That's a good start to make up for jetting off to New York without me."

His brows furrow. "You want to go to New York?"

"I've never left Chicago," I reply honestly as I shrug in his embrace.

"No?" he questions, his large hand stroking my hair before he places a kiss to the top of my head. "Pick any place in the world you want to go, and we'll go."

His words bring a smile to my face and floods my chest with warmth. I don't know if I'll ever get used to the fact Bowie can make promises like this and actually keep them, but the prospect of seeing the world with him by my side has me so excited, I’m biting back tears. These stupid hormones seemed to have turned me into a full time sappy bitch. I revel in his gentle touch a little longer. It's a contradiction to how he fucked me this morning, but both mirror his feelings for me.

"I love you," he says, arms tightening around me as he hugs me goodbye.

Rolling up to my toes, I murmur "I love you" against his lips and deepen the kiss.

He pulls up the handle of his suitcase as we break apart and starts toward the jet. Bowie stops in front of his father and they share words that undoubtedly have something to do with me, by the way Bowie tips his head in my direction. Sal nods, then continues in my direction to open the passenger door of his car for me.

The drive to Vento's is entirely silent aside from the faint sounds of a jazz station playing from the radio. I expect Sal to drop me off and pick me up later, but he follows me up to the offices, making himself at home on the couch across from Cami's desk.

Cami shoots me a questioning gaze as I pass by, and I mouth 'later’ as I dip into my office. Unable to go on knowing there's a morsel of gossip she doesn't know, Cami busts in twenty minutes later, placing a Chai latte on my desk.

I tell her enough to satisfy her curiosity before we go back to our work. Friday afternoons are always on the slow side, and by two o'clock I'm caught up and venturing down a Pinterest rabbit hole of places to travel to. New Zealand looks breathtaking, but with fall weather in full force, somewhere tropical like Hawaii or the Bahamas is super tempting.

The thought of laying on a picturesque beach with Bowie beside me in short little swim trunks and his tanned muscles covered in oil, makes my pussy clench. Fuck, that image will live rent free in my head all night.

"Are you ready, Wren?" Sal’s gravelly tone calls out as he leans against the door frame holding his phone. "Corinne has been texting every hour, on the hour, to see if I'm on my way with you yet."

"Yeah, let me grab my things and we can go."

His focus returns to his phone as I pack up my things and we take the elevator down to the parking garage. I check my phone, hoping Bowie is done with his meeting, but the lack of messages leaves me doom scrolling Instagram for the entire drive.

Sal clears his throat, stealing my attention abruptly. "Are you happy? With Bowie, I mean."

I swivel my head to face him, shocked at his question. Even though he wears the same stoic mask I've seen on Bowie’s face a thousand times, there is a hint of nerves worrying his features.

"I am." I state with confidence. "Nothing about us is conventional or traditional, but I wouldn't trade it for a second."

"Good." His lips thin into a tight-lipped smile as he returns his focus back on the road. He doesn’t say another word to me the rest of the way to the house, and as weird as the interaction was, I chalk it up to an awkward attempt at small talk.

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