Page 25 of Tasting Sin

I took it. “Nellie. It’s nice to meet you.”

When he gasped, Ronan rolled his eyes, and I couldn’t resist the giggle that rolled from my chest. “Oh, you’re the one with the cookies!” he shouted.

“They’re macarons,” Ronan and I said at the same time, our heads snapping toward each other. I put my fingers over my lips, and he lifted both brows. Enzo’s head bounced back and forth between us.

“Whatever they are,” he said, shoving a macaron into his mouth and reaching for a second, “they’re like crack.”

“Thank you.” My cheeks warmed, and I knew I was blushing a deeper red when the warmth traveled into my neck.

“Enough,” Ronan snapped, smacking the back of Enzo’s hand when he reached for another. “Save some for the rest of the party.”

Enzo rolled his eyes so dramatically, the rest of his head followed, and he groaned. “Fine. It was nice to meet you,” he groaned, turning toward the door. His eyes widened, and a sudden look of excitement crossed his face. When he pointed, our gazes followed. “Is that who I think it is?” he asked enthusiastically.

“Who?” Ronan asked, narrowing his eyes and looking between people in the crowd he didn’t seem surprised to see.

Then, in a quick move, Enzo reached between us, snatching two more macarons before he did a half-spin move and hurried off into the crowd with a cackle. “Oh, Jesus Christ,” Ronan grumbled, pinching his nose between his finger and thumb even as a smile tugged at his lips. “Sorry about that.”

“It’s fine. I thought he was funny,” I said, feeling almost giddy when Ronan lifted a single brow, like he couldn’t believe what I was saying. “Charming, even,” I added to it, and Ronan scoffed. Not one to take a joke, I guess.

“I should get going.” He pointed over his shoulder with his thumb at a crowd of people he had spent the start of the evening weaving through. “If you need anything, just shout.”

“Yeah, you already said that.” I winked, and another layer fell from the defensive wall I put up against Ronan Moretti when he smiled. It was something about the way his eyes lit up when he did, almost like he was a different person. Who was he normally?

I watched Ronan walk away, disappearing into a crowd of people he fit in with. Even then, he didn’t blend with them. It was like he stood out differently from the other Italian men in expensive suits. Ava elbowed me in the side, pulling me from my daze.

“You okay?” she asked, an amused look plastered on her face. I nodded.

“Totally fine.” I grabbed cupcakes that didn’t need to be moved and rearranged them in an attempt to appear busy. “Why?”

Ava looked at me the way she always did when she was getting ready to tell me that I was full of shit. I put my hands on my hips, preparing to tell her not to even start, when her eyes got wide, and I felt a presence behind me.

“So you’re the cupcake girl,” the man said. He wasn’t questioning it. What the fuck does that mean? The man looked similar to Ronan but older, with a slight steel coloring to his hair. He looked mean, like I wouldn’t want to be on his bad side. I straightened my spine and nodded. “I’m sorry to hear about your bakery.”

I gaped at him, confused by the contrasting empathy in his cold tone. How much did he know about it? “Thank you,” I finally said, trying to come up with something to say that would make him look less intimidating. My mind blanked, and the buzzing in my ears was replaced by an excited squeal. I jumped.

“Ooh, cupcakes!” a girl yelled. “Move over, Giaco!” Giaco. Ronan’s older brother. I remembered hearing him and Dickie talking about him when they were younger. He never seemed like he was very nice then. He didn’t look like he was much nicer now.

“Don’t embarrass yourself, Grace,” he scolded when she ran her finger through the frosting and stuck it in her mouth.

“You’re the only one who’s embarrassed,” the woman said, scooping another fingerful of frosting from the top of the cupcake. Giaco grumbled, turned, and strolled away with his hands clenched in soft fists at his sides. I bit back a laugh that matched Grace’s. “So which one of you is it that my brother keeps going to see?”

Ava pointed at me before I had a chance to deny it, and I fought the urge to cover the blush I knew was only getting darker. “It’s not like that,” I said, sticking my hands up in front of me instead. “He was friends with my older brother, and apparently, he likes cupcakes.”

Grace laughed, and it resulted in several stares turning in our direction. “Yeah, we’ll go with that if you want.” She shrugged, and when Ava chuckled, Grace looked proud of herself, like she’d figured out the answer but wasn’t going to fill the rest of us in on it.

“Grace,” Ronan said sharply, making us all jump. “Mom is looking for you.”

She straightened herself out, spinning and flipping her long brown hair when she did. “It was nice to meet you,” she said over her shoulder before she nearly skipped off.

“There’s someone I want you to meet,” Ronan said, directing his attention to me. I looked behind him at the party he seemed to be spending most of the evening ignoring and put my hands on my hips.

“I’m working, remember?” I waved at the table behind me that was now missing several cupcakes. Ava stood behind it, placing new cupcakes in the empty spaces.

Ronan nodded but reached out and put his hand on my shoulder anyways. “It’s business. Plus, Ava will watch the table for five minutes.” He looked at her. “Won’t you?”

“Absolutely,” Ava said, pretending to ignore the glare I shot in her direction. “Take your time,” she added when Ronan started to lead me through the crowd I clearly didn’t belong in.

He led us toward a quieter corner of the room, one that held three men. I recognized his cousin from earlier, and next to him was Giaco. He looked as grumpy as he had seemed at the table. Was he always like that? Standing between the two of them was an older version—one who looked gentle but like he’d seen a lot. There was a scar on his jaw, and I traced my gaze along it before we walked up.

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