Page 25 of Enforcer

“I’ve heard grief can be that way. It’s because of how we bank memories of people, I think. She’s still alive in your head; she’s a part of you, so it’s hard to fathom that she’s gone.”

“That’s exactly it. I can’t fathom a world where she doesn’t exist, even if I know she no longer exists. I was there when theytossed dirt on her coffin. I was the last one there. I didn’t want to leave her there.”

God, this poor man!

Tears fall from my eyes, and I let them. I can’t even begin to comprehend what he’d gone through. Sure, I have childhood trauma, but who doesn’t?

This beautiful, loving man lost so much. I wrap around him in silent strength. I don’t say any more because there isn’t anything else to say.

There aren’t words to make it better.

“What was her name?” I ask him.

“Anna.” His voice cracks as if he hasn’t had the strength to utter her name aloud for some time.

Silence stretches around us, and we let it.

“We don’t need to kiss, Dante. Those can be reserved for her. I didn’t mean to overshadow her or step over that line… I didn’t know,” I stammer, my chest burning.

He rolls on his side, lifts my leg over his hip, and wraps an arm around me. “You misunderstand me. I want to kiss you, Alyssa. You’re the first one I’ve wanted to kiss since her. Since Anna. I was only telling you…” He sighs. “I needed you to know the importance of the kiss.”

I nod. “I know now.”

He leans his forehead against mine. “Please, stay. I know it’s not what you do, and it’s not what you want to do. I said we can be no strings, and I mean it, I do, it’s just…”

I lean forward, kissing his lips to silence him. The kiss is quick and soft but does the trick.

“I understand. I’ll stay.”

I turn over, letting him curl around me from behind.

It’s not long, wrapped in his arms, that I drift off.

But my eyes fly wide when he leans over and whispers, “Thank you, bella ragazza.” —beautiful girl.

Those two words I know, and I snuggle back into him with a grin as I feel sleep come for me.

He needed me to stay tonight after being so raw and open about Anna. And while it feels good to sleep safely in his arms, I know it can’t become a habit.

Because I’m still a fucked-up girl who doesn’t want to settle down, especially not with a man in the Italian mafia.

Stretchingmy legs out in the bed, I realize how hot it is. It’s not the room, though. It’s me, my body. I try to toss the covers off but can’t find them with my hands.

Groaning as an ache takes up in my lower belly, I open my eyes. My begrudging glare looks down my body and runs over why I’m blistering hot.

Dante Ricci is perched between my thighs, his sinful tongue twirling over my clit like he’s getting me ready to be his breakfast.

“Dante,” I breathe.

All at once, the night comes slamming back to me in images and feelings.

The way he told me about Anna. How he kissed me after not kissing anyone for years. How I stayed.

It’s what earned me the wake-up call I hadn’t ordered. I won’t turn it away, though.

He was right. His tongue is magical. I realize this as I reach down and grab his hair. It feels like, at any moment, I’m going to float away, but gripping onto him would keep me here.

Keep me in reality with him.

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