Page 11 of Disarming Caine

After another hug for my sister, I collected Nathan and helped him to my truck, having to get behind him and shove him into the passenger seat.

“If you vomit in my truck, I’m going to kill you.”

“No, you won’t.” He gave me that disarming smile of his, the one that made it hard to be angry with him, or made you tell him all your secrets. Any time I complained about it, he bragged it was why he was so good at his job.

“I know twenty-three ways to murder you with that pen in the cup holder. Plus I’ve got all the tools in back to bury you where no one will ever find you.”

He laughed and closed his eyes. “I had too much.”

“Yeah, no kidding.”

His breaths grew deeper as I drove until he slumped to the side. Passed out.

That was probably the same thing Antonio was doing. Unless his overactive emotions were keeping him awake. I gripped the steering wheel and stretched out my jaw.

Four more months.

I swore to Cass I’d stay in town until her treatments were done. There was no time to go back to Naples until March, at the earliest.

How could he agree to the extension?

This was Vincenzo all over again.My Visa wasn’t approved. My mother’s sick. A friend needs my help. The job offer fell through.Delays became excuses until I flew to Italy to see him for—what turned out to be—the last time.

Antonio swore that wouldn’t happen. Said all he wanted was to come home and be with me.

I was being was selfish. He was right. In his circles, this project was a big deal—being published. But what did that matter when he worked as an art conservator for a small shop in Brenton, Michigan?

Lots.

Their work came in based on his family’s rather considerable reputation, so his conservation project in Pompeii doing well was significant. Supporting the other person’s career was important in a relationship.

But if that career kept you apart, how could the relationship work?

We’d already done three months and we’d become closer over that time. But, oh my god, I missed him. Missed his body. His lips. His smell. His touch.

And no matter what I told anyone—even myself—I wasn’t alright. I’d been on edge all day since the shooting, no distraction enough to keep my brain off the sound of that glass and Rhonda’s scream.

But what terrified me was that I kept thinking about Antonio. He was the one I wanted. Not my friends and family, but him.

I hit the call link on the truck. “Call Antonio Ferr—” Stupid. “Cancel.”

It was midnight. Six in the morning in Naples. No chance he’d still be awake. And with my luck, that would be the moment Nathan would wake up and shout something that would piss Antonio off even more.

I glanced at Nathan, trying to hold on to my anger over his intrusion into the call, but I couldn’t do it. He meant too much to me. We met when I was twelve. Soon after Cass and Kevin grew serious enough that she started bringing him home, Nathan started coming with them. My sister and the two men who became my big brothers. The three of them helped me through the end of my friendship with my best friend in college, through our mother’s death, my divorce, and everything else.

But he didn’t like Antonio and wasn’t afraid to point that out. That was going to be a problem.

When I pulled up in front of his house, he didn’t budge. Great.

I rounded to his side and opened the truck door, nudging him until he woke up.

He blinked, rolling his head slowly to me. “How did we get here so fast?”

“We teleported.”

“Huh?”

“Never mind.” I guided his feet to the running boards and caught him as he slid out. After negotiating his arm over my shoulder and mine around his waist, we made slow progress to the front door.

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