Page 70 of Skin Deep

I could tell he was eager to. He told me he didn’t want me out in the open for too long because of threats. He opened the front door and I stepped back, not expecting a white furball to come flying toward me, ramming his head between my legs and then going backward for Harrison.

“That is…” I couldn’t seem to find the words.

“A puppy,” Harrison said, roughing him up some.

He came back for me, and I dropped to the porch, letting him smother me in kisses. “You are so beautiful,” I said to him in Sicilian, pretending to kiss him back. “Yes, you are!” I wasn’t sure how long I was down for, but when I finally looked up, Harrison was watching me.

“You like him?”

“He’s just like Vito! I love him! If you stare into his eyes too long…” I plopped over, letting him tackle me. “Dead! Heart gone. He is such a Romeo!”

“What are you going to name him?”

“He’s mine?”

“I thought he could be ours. We’ll find him a nice backyard to go with our new place.”

“You are being serious?”

“English,” he said, smiling.

“Right,” I said, grabbing for the white fur ball again. He was like a white bear. “You are being serious? We have not talked about any of this.”

His face fell, and I ran my hand through the puppy’s fur to hide my grin. Harrison was gorgeous, but his face turned grumpy when he looked like that.

“You don’t even truly know me,” I whispered.

He bent down, petting the puppy with me. “I know what I want,” he said, then he took my chin and forced me to look at him. “The rest—we’ll learn as we go. Do you want this, Georgina? With me?”

“Sì,” I whispered.

“Gator!”

The puppy took off after the voice coming from the door, breaking us apart. I looked away before Harrison did. A guy who reminded me of Harrison, but different, was standing there, holding one shoe.

“Where’s my other shoe, Gator? Where’d you put it?”

“Gator?” I said as Harrison helped me up. I was still a little weak.

“Hey,” the guy said when he noticed me. “Gigi, right?”

“Hi,” I said.

He shared the same eyes as Harrison, same gorgeous looks, but he was different. Not as refined, perhaps. I remembered him from the wedding. I remembered the guys he was with. His brothers? They all had different qualities, but the same eyes. Their sister, though, was like a great flame.

“Georgina,” Harrison said, pulling me close. “This is my little brother, Owen. Owen, this is Gigi. He was watching him—” He nodded to the dog.

“Gator?” I said.

Owen grinned. “Harrison said he was waiting on you to give him a name, so we came up with some temporary ones. Gator was the best of the bunch. Because he’s like a land shark, or an alligator, because he’s teething. Mostly, though, it’s Little Shit—”

“All right,” Harrison said, pushing him into the house. “Get your shit and go.”

Owen laughed. “I would, but I’m missing a shoe, bro.”

“This it?” I said, holding up one that was wedged behind the door.

Owen kissed me on the cheek. “Your man won’t have to pay me back now! If you have any expensive shoes—beware. The little shit likes to hide them. Great to meet you, G!” he called as he ran out the door. A car was waiting at the curb to pick him up.

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