Page 5 of Morally Gray Daddies

Very well. He had chosen poorly.

I watched them walk away. Mrs. Besk turned to look over her shoulder, a miserable expression on her face as she mouthed the word ‘sorry’ to me. I smiled at her reassuringly and waved. It wasn’t her fault her husband was a tightwad.

Not just a tightwad, either. He was a philanderer, and she deserved so much better. His unfaithfulness gave me an opportunity I wouldn’t have otherwise, though. I didn’t have to steal from him and affect her in the process. I could just take from his mistress. Miss Rebecca Greyson was a flighty and self-involved singer with more tits than talent and a penchant for married men. Mr. Besk had gotten involved with her recently and a splendid ruby necklace had appeared around her throat during her last performance.

I hoped she was enjoying it while she had it because she wasn’t going to for much longer. And Miss Greyson was absolutely the type to demand another bauble from her benefactor.

“What are you doing out here?”

A shiver went down my spine. I hadn’t been paying attention, and for once, Gio had managed to truly sneak up on me. Still, I had too much pride to let him see it.

Turning around with a smile on my face, I pushed my box at him.

“Would you like to donate to feed hungry children?” A request and an answer, all in one. I was good.

Gio stared down at me, his expression as unreadable as ever, before he reached into his jacket and pulled out a wad of cash. He dropped it into the box without even looking to see how much it was, and I blinked. That was unexpected.

“Um, thank you.” I smiled up at him, a much more sincere smile than before. He didn’t smile back.

“It’s getting dark.” There was a heaviness to his statement, as though I was supposed to infer something from it.

I raised my eyebrows. “Yes?” Because it was true, it was getting dark.

He sighed, a deep, heavy, hefty sigh.

“It’s getting dark, and you’re standing out here with a box full of money.”

“Yes, it is, and yes, I am.” I understood what he was getting at, but I also could tell that my nonchalance was getting under his skin, and that was far more fun than telling him I’d been about to head home.

He sighed the most aggrieved, frustrated sigh I’d ever heard out of a man, and it was all I could do not to laugh. There was just something about driving a confident, ball-busting, self-controlled man to such a sigh that tickled my fancy. I enjoyed knowing I’d rubbed his nerves raw.

Consider it penance for all the times he’d stopped by my room to watch my sleep.

“I’m walking you home. Let’s go.”

Well, far be it from me to argue. Though I knew what I was capable of, and I had my gun tucked in my purse, there was something to be said for being able to relax during the walk. No one was going to bother me with this big brute by my side.

“Oh, thanks,” I chirped happily, wondering how annoyed I could make him by the time we reached Mrs. Cunningham’s boarding house. “And thank you for your generous donation.”

“How often do you do this?” he asked. One of his hands moved up to the small of my back, as if he was guiding me through the streets, and I tried to ignore the little tingle that went through me.

“Collect money for charity? At least once a week.” More than that, but I was only out on the street once a week asking for donations. The other nights, I engaged in something I liked to call ‘forced contributions.’ Because some of the city’s wealthiest citizens were a little too tightfisted, and a lot too uncaring, to give as much as they should.

I might not have minded so much until my cousin became an accountant, and I found out how many of them weren’t paying their fair share of taxes, either. They bent the laws, they curried favors from the politicians, and they hid their money without thinking twice about it. I’d decided to even the odds a little bit, and in my opinion, the city was better for it.

Granted, the elite grumbled, but if they weren’t so greedy, I would have never thought of it. They’d rather hoard money than feed children, and that made them the problem. I stayed away from those who actually used their money to help the community… except the DiNardos.

Hailey’s mother-in-law was very involved in charities, but… well… Gio ticked me off sometimes. And I was also annoyed at Jack for being part of strongarming Hailey into a wedding she hadn’t wanted at the time. She was happy now, but I was already annoyed at Gio, so…

Besides, I never took anything they couldn’t afford. Just enough to be a nuisance and to give myself a little thrill.

“Are you going out tonight?”

“No, I’m going to stay home and be snug as a bug in a rug,” I replied cheerfully, which made him grunt. Was it my imagination, or had he relaxed a little at my pronouncement? It seemed he worried about me, which was very sweet—if such a word could ever be used to describe Gio. “Why? Did you want to take me out?”

He ground to a halt so fast, I took several steps and was beyond him before I realized he’d stopped. Turning, I cocked my head, giving him my best coy look while he stared at me like he’d never seen me before. Truthfully, if he had asked me out, I would say no, but my little bit of sass had such an unexpected reaction that now I had to follow up on it.

“Oh, that’s not what you meant?” I pouted at him, only having to feign my disappointment a little. A smart girl said no to a date with a mobster, but that didn’t mean I didn’t want him to ask.

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