Page 57 of Ache for You (Slow Burn 3)
Matteo’s answer comes fast and quiet. It’s even scarier than if he’d shouted it to the hills. He’s serious. If I said the word, he’d take Brad apart limb by limb right here in the driveway.
Why that should give me such a thrill, I don’t want to know.
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
He makes a small gesture indicating the rolling hills and woods around us. “There’s a lot of property here.”
“Are you saying it’s good for burying a body?”
“Say the word and you’ll find out.”
We stare at each other in a strange kind of violent, intense Brad-hating bubble until Brad clears his throat.
“Uh, you guys? Still here.”
Matteo says through gritted teeth, “You were going to marry this idiot?”
“I know, right?”
We turn our heads and glare at Brad.
He takes a step back. “Uh, okay, I’ll just . . .” He points down the driveway. “I’ll just wait for you over there.”
He takes off walking at a brisk clip. Watching him go, the limo driver says, “Good hair, though. Robert Redford hair. You know Robert Redford? He’s my favorite American movie star. Good actor. Good teeth. Great hair.”
When he sees the look Matteo sends him, his eyes widen. He jumps back into the limo and takes off down the driveway, roaring past Brad with a wave.
“If you’re not back in five minutes, I’m coming to get you. I won’t be responsible for what happens then.”
I lift my eyebrows, taking in Matteo’s expression. His gaze is on Brad. The look in his eyes has gone from murder to genocide.
God, I’m so sick. I’m actually finding this show of protective machismo incredibly hot.
“Hey. Psycho.”
Matteo cuts hi
s eyes back to me.
“What’s this caveman thing you’re doing?”
“He hurt you.”
“Yeah? So? How is that your business?”
His jaw works back and forth as if he’s grinding walnuts between his molars. Finally he says, “We’re family.”
“Ex-family,” I correct, watching his face. “You’re the one who so helpfully pointed that out to me.”
He draws a breath through his nose, straightens to his full height, folds his arms over his chest, and stares down his nose at me.
“Oh, this again? The snooty silent treatment? Great. That’s just great. That’s exactly what I need right now.”
I hate myself for how my voice wavers, but I hate myself even more for letting anything he does affect me. It shouldn’t matter.
It doesn’t matter!
So why does it?
