Page 91 of Mila: The Godfather

Putting the book down, I pat both my cheeks lightly, trying to make the pink shade that’s most likely there disappear before I speak up. “C-come in.” I cringe when my tone comes off high-pitched. Very suspicious.

Think of something else, Mila…

My brain instantly replays my very first kiss, making me feel even more embarrassed and hot all over.

Nope, nope.

I think of things that make me gag instead.

Like, watermelons.

That does the trick.

A moment later, the person at the other side of the door is revealed. Riagan’s friend and guard is wearing low-rise jean shorts and a tropical pattern green shirt.

I’ve been so focused on his boss that I haven’t had the chance to fully get my reading on Kelly. Whose first name I learned is Cianne.

Interesting name for an interesting-looking man.

A strong Irish name like Riagan.

Like his boss, he has just as many tattoos. The only difference is where Riagan’s face is free of ink, Cianne Kelly has a few small tattoos. At first glance, he looks like any book villain with tattoos does. The kind of man I’ve read somewhere that mothers warn their daughters about.

Scary.

But that’s when he tricks you.

He is a trickster.

He has a charming personality and lots of jokes I don’t get, but I still try my best to understand and laugh at times to not come off as rude. I don’t know how much Riagan has told him about me or how I’m wired. All I do know is that he treats me no differently, and he talks to me as if he would anyone.

No pity.

He even looks me in the eye, even if it does fluster me a bit.

I am grateful he treats me as a human being and not a wall like most people did before. I still wear my hat when I am around him and most likely always will. I don’t like how my eyes can’t stay still, and I would rather not make others uncomfortable.

The only person I feel confident enough not to hide from is Riagan.

“The boss wants you to join him for dinner, milseán,” Cianne says with a small smile. His smile is nice. He has a smile that brightens up his entire face. It seems genuine.

Rising quickly from the bean bag, excited to see Riagan. I haven’t seen him since last night.

Since he kissed me.

When I woke up this morning and went downstairs for breakfast, I noticed he wasn’t anywhere to be found. Cianne informed me that he was handling business. I didn’t ask. I know what business for men like him means.

I chose to spend the morning studying the butterflies instead, still fascinated with them. He has a butterfly cage. A conservatory, to be precise.

He’s turning out to be more of a dream man than I originally thought.

The things he does and says, I’ve only read in romance books.

It feels too good to be true.

Things like this don’t happen to girls as sheltered and inexperienced as me. Do they?

A clearing of a throat reminds me that I spaced out. A bit embarrassed, I look Cianne in the eyes for a brief moment before looking down at his stubbled cheek. “Should I meet him now?” I ask.

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