Page 30 of Loyalties & Longings

Smells like it was a bit of a setup if you ask me, but apparently, Massimo had helped Enzo work through his grief. Enzo never broached the issue. It was an open-and-shut case of Lanioverdosing, so maybe she’d come close to it before then.

For that exact reason, I am so thankful Lake has never dipped into any of her father’s supply. I revel in the fact that she seems so straightlaced on the outside yet has her own little monster lying in wait just below the surface, waiting to jump out when she’s aroused.

It’s such a damn turn-on.

Pulling up to the florist, I buy a bunch of nice-looking flowers. I don’t know what type they are, but they look good. Lake won’t have a chance to buy any before I pick her up. It’s only nine in the morning, after all.

It’s fulfilling to do these small things for her, showing that I’m not just the muscle behind her father’s empire. She makes me want to give her the world. If I couldn’t give it to her, I’d burn mine down for her, burning right along with it.

I’d give her the world, my life—anything she damn well wants.

Fuck, I would kill for her without hesitation.

I’ve even contemplated making Massimo disappear so she can finally live in peace.

Pulling into the long, bricked driveway of the Morelli residence, I park my truck behind Lake’s small black Mustang. I appreciate a woman who has great taste in cars, especially one as sexy and sleek as this one. Both the car and Lake, that is. Cutting the engine, I take a deep breath, willing my dick not to go hard, just for today. This is a day for Lake. I’m to be here for her if she needs a shoulder to cry on. She’ll be mourning, after all.

The fucking bastard twitches like he is absolutely going to betray me today. Goddammit.

I notice Enzo’s SUV isn’t in the driveway as I hop out of my truck and make my way around the front and toward the house. I leap up the front steps two at a time, eager to see Lake. It seems she’s just as eager to see me because as I lift my hand to knock on the door, it swings open. She’s beaming, and fuck me,she is so beautiful with brown hair pulled back in a ponytail, no makeup, and wearing jeans and a tight top. My nostrils flare at the thought of ripping her clothes off her, especially knowing nobody is home but her.

It’s definitely not how I thought I’d be greeted by her on an otherwise somber day, but seeing her with a smile makes my morning.

“Good morning, Siren.”

“Come in. I’ve just got to go and quickly make sure I’ve put some laundry on before we leave,” she says, backing into the house and racing off, leaving me to close the door behind me.

I stay near the door, though, waiting there with my hands in the back pockets of my jeans, listening to her race around beyond the kitchen. Hearing keys being picked up off the kitchen counter, I look up as she enters through to the living area and notice she is holding fresh flowers. I’m such a fool. Of course, she got some, and they look similar to the ones I got. They’re probably not, though. I don’t know shit about flowers.

“All good, ready to go?” she asks, walking over to me and kissing me softly on the corner of my mouth.

No.

I think to myself, well, to my dick,Not now, maybe later.

We’re in this weird subspace at the moment. I’m not sure if we’re together or if we’re only having casual sex. Don’t get me wrong, I wouldn’t complain either way. It’s just that everything is so comfortable with Lake.

Nodding, I open the front door for her. It’s an action my body does of its own volition but only for her. Guaranteed if it were anyone else, I’d have headed out first, leaving them in my wake.

“Thank you,” she says, stepping out into the morning sun. I follow her out to the front porch, and she locks up behind us. I wait for her to pass me toward my truck, wanting to see her sweet ass in those tight-as-hell jeans. She smiles at me with aquizzical look as she passes. It was well worth hanging back. I’d follow her anywhere as long as I can stare at her ass the whole way. Although I don’t know why I’m so intent on torturing my dick. I smirk, feeling it twinge again.

I’m going to make this woman my queen.

I race forward so I still reach her door before she can. I want to worship her in ways no one has ever thought of before. What kind of a man would I be if I didn’t open the car door for her and help her up? I know she is quite capable, but I’ll take any chance I can get to put my hands on her. Closing her door, I round the truck to the driver’s side, feeling her eyes on me the whole time. When I climb in, she turns to me.

“Did you buy flowers before you came and got me?” She sounds surprised.

Shrugging, I reply nonchalantly, “Yeah, I thought you’d want to head straight to the cemetery instead of stopping off on the way. So, I picked them up on my way home from the gym.”

“I got mine after my morning workout, too,” she replies, her eyes sparkling. “But how did you know I buy peonies for Mom?”

I look at her blankly.

“Did Dad tell you?” Her eyes narrow.

“No, I just got the nicest-looking ones.” I shrug again.

“They’re my favorite flower,” she says quietly to the car, almost to herself. “They are so delicate. Proof that something in this world can be precious, but nothing lasts. Once they bloom, they’re so beautiful, but even when you put all of your time, love, and care into them, they still only last for a week. They still die.” Her fingers fiddle gently with the soft edge of the white petals in the bunch on her lap.

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