Page 22 of Taking Care of the Target

Vince ran a hand through his hair and resumed his pacing. “Not a problem, but something we probably shouldn’t discuss over the phone.”

“Why don’t you come by the house?”

Vince came to an abrupt stop. Not long after Dad died, Mom decided to follow. Carlo had taken in him and Bobby and treated them like his own—said it was the least he could do for his sister’s and best friend’s kids. Two years under his roof were enough to give Vince conflicted feelings about joining the family business; he certainly hadn’t had any trouble bending the law in his teen years.

But then he’d remembered what that career path had cost Dad and decided it was time to make a change so he and Bobby wouldn’t end up the same way. He told his uncle he’d learn the other side of the family business—the legit restaurant side. Carlo started him out on kitchen duty, most likely hoping he’d change his mind after hours of scrubbing dishes with little pay, but he’d worked from that to waiting tables to where he was now.

Going back to the house always messed with his sense of loyalty versus who he wanted to be. It was under that roof Carlo vowed to avenge Dad, who’d been his underboss. When Carlo had announced to the family and his men that he’d finally taken out the guy who’d killed Antony DaMarco, Vince had cheered along with the rest of them. The sweet satisfaction of vengeance had flowed through his veins, and he’d wondered how much sweeter it would’ve been to execute it himself. He’d thought about the power, the money, the easier hours, and wondered if he’d chosen the wrong side of the business.

“I’d rather meet at the restaurant so I can check on a few things while I’m there,” Vince said.

“My nephew. Always thinking about work. Wish some of that would’ve rubbed off on your brother and cousin.”

Instead of responding, because he’d spent countless hours wondering how to get through to his brother, Vince checked the time. “Meet me at Rossi’s in about…”

He almost said thirty minutes, but he glanced at Cassie’s door again. He wanted to check on her before he left. He wanted to escort her to work as well, but he wasn’t sure what time she had to go in. “Let’s make it eleven. That gives us a little over an hour. And like I said, I want Sal there, too.”He and I have unfinished business.

“Yeah, okay,” Carlo said.

“See you then.” Vince hung up and took a deep breath to transition from guy trying to save girl from mob boss uncle to normal guy who’d had one of the most amazing nights of his life.

Considering he’d been shot at, that was probably sad, but he replayed Cassie’s soft lips on his cheek again. If a kiss like that could make every inch of him tremble with want, he could only imagine what a taste of her lips would do. The move had nearly broken his resolve for the second time that night. He’d wanted to pull her into his arms and kiss her breathless.

But then he told himself that taking advantage of her near-death while she was still on his uncle’s hit list and he was lying through his teeth would make him a complete asshole.

Vince knocked on the door and tested the knob. It turned, so he pushed inside the apartment. “Cassie?”

She shot him a smile over her shoulder, and he thought there were worse things to be than a complete asshole. “I’m just making breakfast,” she said. “Hope you’re hungry.”

The tank top, tiny shorts, and makeup free face that showed just how naturally beautiful she was practically set him up for failure to refrain. “I’m always hungry,” he said, his feet automatically closing the distance between them. He placed his hand on her back, running his thumb over the line of her spine. “How are you feeling this morning?”

“Honestly? Kind of embarrassed.” She became overly interested in stirring the eggs. “Obviously I was freaked out last night and didn’t want to be alone. I crossed a line by asking you to stay, but thank you for doing it anyway.” Her stirring slowed, and she finally looked at him, although more at his chest, really. “Knowing you were here was the only way I was able to get any sleep at all.”

He put his fingers under her chin and tipped her face toward his. “No need to be embarrassed. Feel free to cross lines with me anytime.”

It was out of his mouth before he remembered hewasn’tsupposed to be flirting with her. It’d just complicate everything, and things were messy enough. He dropped his hand. “Are you stiff this morning?”

“A little.” She bent down and peeked inside the oven, making those tiny shorts rise up a few inches. “You?”

Stiff? Yeah, he was getting there. “Not too bad.”

She straightened and looked him over—good thing he’d managed to detour his line of thoughts, or she would’ve gotten an eyeful of where exactly they were headed. She lifted his sleeve and checked the scrape on his shoulder, gently brushing her finger to the side of it, and his thoughts slipped again. “I could put some Neosporin on that if you want me to.”

I’m not sure I can behave if you start slathering stuff on me.“Nah. It’ll be okay.”

Cassie nodded and returned to making breakfast, getting out cheese and grating it over the eggs. Her gaze drifted far away, and a small smile touched her lips. Then she sighed and gradually came back to the present.

“Where’d you go?” Once in a while she’d be in the middle of a conversation and just check out for a few seconds. He’d always wondered what brought them on and what she saw to make the emotions flicker so quickly across her features.

She looked at him, and her eyebrows ticked together. Then her fingers went to her forehead. “Whoa. I’m getting this weird sense of déjà vu.”

Shit.He froze as she blinked a couple of times, then let out a relieved breath when she shrugged and turned back to the stove. He’d have to steer clear of conversations they’d had before. If she remembered they knew each other, they’d both be screwed.

“Cassie…about your accident…?”

She crossed her arms, almost as if she felt the need to protect herself. “Yeah?”

“Does the doctor think you’ll ever get your memories back?” He curled his hand around the handle of the oven, gripping tighter and tighter as he waited for her answer.

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