Page 63 of Murder & Mayhem

“What exactly is it you do for the Antonellis?”

His gaze flicks up to mine, a slight smirk tugging at one side of his lips. “Now, if I told you that, I’d have to kill you.”

I roll my eyes at his cliched response but accept it for the blowoff that it is. “Well, whatever you’re cooking smells delicious.”

At my compliment, he spares me a glance, a soft smile gracing his lips before he turns to dump the cutting board full of vegetables into a waiting pot.

Looking back at me over his shoulder, he asks, “Can you cook?”

“No,” I laugh. “Unless instant mac ‘n’ cheese counts?”

His easy laughter in response seems so jarring to the image of Enzo I have in my head. Just watching him in this house, so open and at ease… he’s nothing like the guy I’ve been meeting once a month for the last number of years. He’s less closed off and shut down. All those parts of himself that I knew he was keeping carefully hidden under lock and key are now out on display for me to casually peruse. I’m not sure if it’s being here, in his home, that has caused this change or something different.

When he’s finished doing whatever he’s doing at the stove, he grabs a bottle of red wine from the wine rack, along with two glasses, and proceeds to pop the cork. The rich aroma of berries and expensive wine fills the air as he pours some into the glasses. Setting them both on the breakfast bar, he places his elbows on the countertop. The move brings him to my eye level. “Maybe I can teach you a few new things while you’re here.”

Shamefully, the deep baritone of his voice instantly sends my mind down the wrong track, and my gaze drops to his pink, plump lips, wondering what new things he could potentially teach me with his tongue. His lips twitch humorously, and I drag my mind out of the gutter as I clear my throat.

“Yeah, that would be cool. I’m sure Luc would appreciate that.”

There’s a guilty twinge at the mention of my brother's name. I haven’t spoken to him, and I need to check-in and see if he’s okay.

“You miss him,” Enzo correctly deduces.

“Yeah,” I sigh. “I’m used to seeing him basically every day, and not being there to check on him… I just worry.”

Enzo seems to think on it for a moment before shrugging a shoulder. “We could—”

I quickly cut him off with a shake of my head. “No.” I flick my gaze over to Dante, checking he isn’t paying attention to us, but thankfully he’s still engrossed with whatever he’s doing on his laptop. “I don’t want him involved in any of this.”

Enzo’s lips pinch. “You realize when you marry Dante, he’s going to find out about your brother. You can’t keep both of them in the dark.”

Refusing to acknowledge that, because ultimately it’s a moot point, I instead ask in a low voice, “I thought, based on what you said earlier, you didn’t want me marrying Dante?”

His eyes flash with something primal. “I also said that neither of us was willing to let you go.”

My mouth goes dry at the sheer possession in his tone. I’m pretty sure his words should terrify me, but it’s not fear that has my heart accelerating and my pulse thudding.

The sound of chair legs scraping against the wood floor makes me jump. Enzo smirks knowingly, and I distract myself by lifting my glass of wine and taking a large sip while he goes back to check on the food. Heat envelopes my back as I set the glass down, and I tense as I feel Dante’s warm breath along my neck. With his lips inches from my ear, he says in a low, sexy as fuck growl, “I hope you enjoyed the show earlier.”

My eyes flick up to see if Enzo heard him, but he’s ignoring the two of us, and my gaze quickly darts back to Dante as he trails his fingers along the exposed skin of my shoulders before claiming the barstool next to me.

“We need to talk about today,” I blurt out. “And, uh, this whole marriage thing.”

Dante’s penetrating gaze sears into me. The way he looks at me, never really speaking but saying an overwhelming amount with just his eyes, unnerves me. Not in any hurry to answer me verbally, he just holds my gaze, and I only manage to break out of his hold when his phone goes off.

“What?” he barks, bringing the phone to his ear. There’s a moment of silence while he listens to whoever is on the other end, before he says, “Get it under control. I’ll be there shortly.” He hangs up without giving the person a chance to respond, and there’s a frown on his face as Enzo turns to look at him expectantly.

“There’s a problem,” is all Dante says on the matter as he gets to his feet.

“I’ll go,” Enzo offers—although it’s said with a surprisingly authoritative tone. His gaze darts between Dante and me. “You two need to talk.”

After a second's hesitation, Dante agrees and slowly lowers himself back onto the stool beside me. The thought of being alone all the way out here in the middle of nowhere with Dante makes me uneasy, but I’ve come to the conclusion that he’s not going to harm me. He’d have done it by now if he was. He’s just intent on pissing me the fuck off with this marriage bullshit.

Enzo moves around the room, slipping his suit jacket back on and slotting a gun in the holster at his waist. My eyes slowly roam over him, noticing how fucking hot he looks in just a white shirt, pants, and jacket. With his top button undone and tie missing, he looks slightly ruffled, but in a sexy,I just rolled out of bedway.

Before he leaves the room, he returns his focus to us. There’s a seriousness in his eyes as he says, “No touching the food. I’ve spent all afternoon on it, and I don’t need either of you burning it.”

Giving me a final once over, Enzo walks out of the room. Neither Dante nor I say anything until the front door closes behind him, then I turn to Dante, suddenly hyper-aware of his close proximity. Our shoulders are so close that they brush against one another as I turn in my seat to face him. The change of position makes my knees brush against the soft fabric of his suit pants, where they are practically molded to his thighs. His gaze zeroes in on where we’re touching, and it subsequently launches a kaleidoscope of butterflies in my lower belly.

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