Page 44 of Mob Boss's Second Chance

Natalie

“Natalie.”

I’m accosted by Anthony the moment I walk into his apartment. He’s wearing a pair of boxers with an unknown but very distinctive face printed on the crotch.

Like I told Ethan, eccentric.

“Thank goodness you’re here,” he says in a half-wail. “I’ve been dreaming about steak for hours. Do you think you could make me some?”

I wrack my brain for a minute. “Yeah,” I nod. “I’ll have to get some ingredients, but I’m sure I can.”

He places his hands on my shoulders, and my eyes immediately stray downward. It’s a woman’s face, and she looks threatening. I briefly wonder what he must’ve done to incur her wrath and the punishment, but knowing Anthony, it could’ve beenanything.

“You’re my saving grace,” he whispers. “I’ll send you some money on the way. Get what you need and stuff for yourself. I love you,”

I get a kiss on the cheek before he ushers me out the front door. I clutch my bag tighter as I head out, but I’m nowhere near the sidewalk when I see a car pull up.

A man steps out from the driver’s end and opens the back door for… Ethan.

He’s dressed casually—in slacks and a sweater vest—and sporting a new haircut. A taper fade? He doesn’t see me for the first five seconds, and his scowl is like a threatening cloud on a stormy day.

It does scare me a little, even though scowls are basically his default setting.

Then he looks my way, and his facial expression immediately softens. The difference is noticeable enough to make me wonder ifI’mthe reason.

“Natalie?” He notices my bag and the direction I’m facing. I see the question before he voices it. “Are you leaving?”

“Nope,” I shake my head, “but Anthony needs steak, and I have to get it. I didn’t plan on making steak this week.”

You look good, though.

Nope.

Ethan’s eyebrows scrunch for a moment, and then he disappears, having a conversation with the driver. I can only see the top of his head, and it looks like it’s bobbing.

He raises his head. “I’ll take you.”

“Take me?” My surprise comes out in my high-pitched tone. “Oh no—” I wave my hands frantically. “You don’t have to do that. It’s a simple dash to the grocery store. I will be back before you know it.”

That’smeassuming that he cares about my presence.

Ethan’s offer is insistent, though. He doesn’t say anything—he merely holds the door open and stands there silently. But the rigidity in his stance and demeanor tells me everything I need to know.

I’m either going along with his plan,or we’ll spend an embarrassing amount of time standing here.

I doubt embarrassment is something Ethan experiences often—if at all. He goes through life without living up to anyone’s expectations, while I, on the other hand, am already feeling the heat rise to my cheeks.

With a quiet sigh of resignation, I do as he wordlessly commands, slipping into the car as he shuts the door behind me. A second later, he rounds to the driver’s side, and the car glides smoothly onto the road.

“Does he even know where I’m going?” I murmur under my breath, the rush of cool air from the vents doing little to settle my nerves.

A small part of me is relieved that I didn’t turn him down—not fast enough, at least, for him to take back the offer. But a much pettier part of me resents his high-handedness. Ethan Grayson doesn’t ask. He decides.

So I settle into the seat, close my eyes, and let him figure out my destination on his own. If he wants to play knight in shining armor, he can do it without my help.

Somehow, I expect him to ask.

To break his usual stoic demeanor and press me for details. He did offer me his hand when I tumbled into his study and was somewhat cordial when we talked. I don’t know what came over him, but it was nice not to stand at the edge of dislike for a while.

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