Page 30 of Mated into the Mob

Are you sure? Not fourteen or forty or four hundred?

Find him!He’d had enough of the math and wanted to be with our mate.

Tony was close by, my keen eyesight telling me the only place he could be hiding was near the dumpster. Hoping he wasn’t in the dumpster, but I’d welcome him even if he stank of rotten fish.

You would? Ewww!

Hush, I told my beast as I walked toward it. I almost paused and took deep breaths, while his intoxicating fragrance filled my lungs, but couldn’t stop, not when I was close enough to touch him.

He answered me with a ridiculous excuse about trash. Those four days hadn’t affected his sass, thank gods, but his wounds were healing.

“You shouldn’t be out here in the middle of the night. You never know who you might meet.”

“Oh noes. What if a mobster kidnapped me and locked me in his basement? I’d better skedaddle home this instant.”

I laughed, I couldn’t help it. Despite my heartache, a possible threat to our business and to me as Alpha—not that we’d identified one, but my spidey senses were tingling, and Emilio had men tailing both Foley and Sewell—and me not paying attention to work, my mate’s silliness lifted my mood.

“Sounds crazy, right? That’d never happen.” He tossed a wrapper in the dumpster and brushed something off his hands.

“I’ll drive you home.”

“Your place or mine?” he quipped before sniggering, probably a nervous reaction.

“Yours.”

He took a step toward me, a faint illumination from the streetlight caressing the curve of his cheek. “I don’t want you knowing where I live.”

“I know exactly where you live, Tony,” I snapped and regretted it.

“Of course you do,” he huffed. “Fine. Drop me at home. I’ll give you the clothes.”

After telling my security detail the address, I drove through the empty streets. taking quick glances at him as he sat beside me. He wasn’t huddled and hunched over which I took as a positive sign.

“Found someone to replace me?”

“That I can never do.” I’d probably said too much, but the last days without him, I’d been lost, going through the motions of work while my heart yearned for him. I slept in the basement,in the sheets he’s used, his scent massaging the loneliness just a little.

“So you’re out of the kidnapping business?”

“I didn’t say that.” Even if he did grow to love me, the issue of us marrying our principles, and our moral compasses leading us on the same path, were close to zero.

I pulled up outside his building, trying to think of an excuse to get him to stay, but knowing as I did days ago, I had to let him make up his own mind.

“I’ll get them, but they haven’t been washed.” He didn’t move.

“I prefer them that way.” That sounded a bit icky and a lot creepy, but I’d said it. Too late to take it back.

He paused, his elbow on the armrest. “Is that a fetish? Sniffing someone’s dirty clothes?”

I rested both hands on the steering wheel, stopping myself from leaning over and kissing him. “Nope.”

He made no move to get out. “You owe me an explanation.”

“About the clothes?” I didn’t want to discuss the stupid clothes, but if us talking kept him in the car longer, I’d describe in detail how I’d wrap them around myself while I slept.

“Everything. The bite on my shoulder, the mate thing, you sleeping in the basement. And how you did the trick with the fur and the snout. That scared the crap outta me.” Filtered light from outside shone on his face, and as he turned his head, shadows played a game of tag with the light.

“Now?” I’d prefer to enjoy a meal with him, but that was probably out of the question.

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