Page 90 of His Juliet

“It’s funny that ‘slice up someone else’s skin instead’ isn’t on the list,” I teased, even with the lump in my throat.

His lips twitched, and his hand came to my hip. “What do fucking therapists know? It could be a brilliant new treatment.”

I blinked quickly to keep my tears from falling. “Not many people have someone who would be willing to do that, to take on the pain.” My eyes were fixed on the paper. The words blurred as my tears started falling.

“Oh, stellina.”

His arms were around me, tucking me into his chest, pressing my face to his neck. I choked on a sob, and he tightened his hold. We rocked side to side and my arms went around him, my fingers twisting in his shirt.

“You’re not alone. Not anymore. Never again. I’ll always be here to take the pain away.”

He didn’t let go, didn’t rush me, didn’t tell me to stop crying. He was justthere. Solid and warm and holding onto me as tightly as I was to him. I didn’t know how long we stood there, but eventually, my tears dried up, and I slumped against him, exhausted.

He kissed my cheek. “Do you like French toast? It’s one of my specialties.”

I lifted my head from his chest and tried to wipe my face. “I need tissues first.”

“I think we can handle that.”

Romeo held my hand tightly as he led me to a hallway closet and pulled out a box of tissues. After I cleaned up, we returned to the kitchen. Before I could worry about what I should do, he picked me up and placed me on the counter.

“So, French toast?”

“I like French toast.”

His smile was brilliant, transforming his face from stunning to breathtaking. “Coming right up.”

I looked around the kitchen, taking in my surroundings for the first time. The cabinets were dark wood and the countertops were black soapstone. In the corner sat a fancy espresso machine. It was the prettiest home I’d ever been in, all sophisticated warmth.

Romeo whisked some eggs in a bowl beside me, and I leaned over to kiss his shoulder. He looked up, eyes wide.

“Do that again.”

A little smile teased at my lips as I tugged his t-shirt to the side so I could kiss his skin this time.

“Do you want an espresso?” I asked. “I can try to work the machine.”

He curled a piece of my hair around his finger. “Yeah, Juliet. I’d love an espresso.”

His hands were on my hips again, lowering me to the floor. It took me a few minutes of tinkering with the machine to get the hang of it. The entire time, Romeo found things to do on my side of the kitchen, his hand brushing against my back and my hair as he walked around me.

I didn’t know if he was staying so close because he knew I needed it or because he needed it, too.

I hated that I’d scared him yesterday.

I loved that he cared enough to be afraid for me.

The scent of vanilla and maple swirled around the kitchen as Romeo finished making breakfast. I set two coffees in front of us, both sporting very wonky latte art. I sat down at the kitchen island and Romeo immediately pulled my chair closer to him. His hand stayed on my thigh the entire time we ate. Little sparks of pleasure shot through me every time he squeezed my leg, and it made me want to curl up on his lap like a kitten.

Once we finished eating, Romeo turned to face me, taking my hands in his. “I have to meet with Matteo in a few minutes.”

“Matteo?”

“He’s the Don, the head of the Italian Mafia here in New York. I’m his second-in-command.” He watched me carefully, like he was afraid I was going to run away screaming. Maybe I should. I still couldn’t wrap my head around the fact that the Mafia was real.

When I didn’t say anything, he continued. “Matteo is like a brother to me. His sister, Sienna, lives on this floor just down the hall. Matteo, Sofiya, and their daughter, Clementine, are on the top floor.” He cupped my face. “I don’t want to leave you here, but there are some business things you can’t be a part of. Will you be okay staying alone for a bit?”

No.

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