Page 17 of Unforgivable Ties

“Afraid you’re stuck with me for a bit, Doc.” He picked up a cookie and held it in front of him. “Why are you eating this crap for dinner?”

“It is not crap, and it’s none of your business what I eat for dinner,” I retorted, snatching the cookie away from him and taking a big bite.

He snatched it right back. “You need to eat something healthier. We’re eating a normal dinner.”

“Ha! Last time I offered you dinner, you insulted it. As if I’d make it for you again,” I scoffed, turning away from him, my cheeks red with both annoyance and a hint of embarrassment.

“I’m ordering us Greek food, so I don’t have to deal with your cooking,” Vincenzo declared, pulling out his phone. “It’s better for both of us.”

With a few swift taps on his phone, he ordered us kebabs, salad, and pita bread through a delivery app. Then he walked over to my sofa and let out a sigh as he sat down.

“Need you to check to see how this is healing,” he said, lifting his shirt to expose the old wound I had treated for him.

Oh god, why’d he have to do that? I almost got dizzy from looking at his eight pack, each perfectly sculpted muscle only stopped from perfection by scarring from previous fights.

“Sure,” I said, my throat suddenly going dry.

He took off his shirt and I almost had a heart attack right then and there. When I had first stitched him up, I just pushed his shirt up. This was my first time seeing him completely shirtless.

There were tattoos everywhere. I had seen them separately, on his arms, neck, and the time I had to push his shirt up. This was my first time seeing everything together. They connected in an expansive network of intricate art, each symbol and image telling a different story of his past. I traced a finger along the black lines that slithered down his side, in the shape of a serpent.

“I didn’t come here to give a free show,” Vincenzo grumbled, but there was no bite to his words.

I paused my tracing, my fingers hovering over his skin. The serpent tattoo wound its way down from his ribs to the v line of his hips, disappearing into the waistband of his jeans.

“Sorry,” I mumbled, feeling somewhat idiotic. “I’ve just never met anyone...” I trailed off, not sure how to finish my sentence.

“Covered head to toe in tattoos, in the mafia?” he finished for me.

“Well, yes,” I admitted, averting my gaze.

“It’s fine,” he responded. “I don’t mind when you stare.”

I near passed out. Was he flirting with me? Vincenzo was so serious all the time, it was hard to tell. He was probably just messing with me, savoring my obvious discomfort. I swallowed hard, pressing my hand back to his skin—strictly business this time.

“Alright,” I murmured, slowly unwrapping the bandaged wound. “It looks good. You’ve been following instructions.”

“Obviously. I need to get back to one hundred percent as soon as possible,” he responded. “There’s a lot I can’t do with this stupid thing.”

“Well, I’m not sure how you got yourself shot. But maybe just dodge next time?” I said facetiously.

He snorted at that. “Just dodge next time, huh?”

“Or you could just not get into shootouts, but I know that would be asking for too much,” I said, wrapping his healing wound with new gauze.

“Just a little.” Vincenzo pulled me into him suddenly, taking me by surprise. His hand was firm around my waist, his touch searing through my thin blouse. His other hand came up and ran along my collarbone, brushing my nape before lightly resting on my shoulder. “But I know you’ll be here to patch me up.”

I tried to respond, but it was like my brain had short-circuited. I shouldn’t like the feeling of his hand on my skin, the possessive grip he had on my waist, the piercing gaze that was locked with mine. A dangerous man like Vincenzo was not good news, and I knew this.

But would I be able to push these feelings out of my mind?

Vincenzo

Sometimes, I wondered if I had made a mistake forcing Stephanie into this lifestyle. Not just for her wellbeing, but for mine. The redhead occupied a space in my brain constantly, invading my thoughts, disrupting my focus during the day.

The most obvious answer was that I needed to fuck her. Once I had sex with her a few times, these thoughts would be out of my head and I would be able to return to normal. But I wasn’t so sure—I was as drawn to her personality as I was to her looks.

Stephanie was bold, audacious, and had a certain fire in her eyes that was impossible for me to resist. Despite knowing my profession and always having a gun secured at my waist, she wasn’t afraid to argue with me. She was like a magnet, pulling me in with an intensity that left no room for doubt or hesitation. I was drawn to her fiery spirit, the way she talked back when I was being unreasonable, the way she stood her ground no matter what.

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