Page 20 of Devious Vows

Her hands are on her hips, lips pursed as her hazel eyes glare down at my sneakers. “Hi, Mom, always such a pleasure.”

She points at me in warning, tutting at me as she takes a step forward to yank at the ties of my crop top to try and tighten them so less cleavage is showing. I lightly slap her hands away, readjusting my boobs as she frowns with distaste. “You better double-knot that. The way you run around it’s going to come undone and Lord knows my heart can’t take that kind of stress.”

“That’s kind of the plan,” I mumble under my breath as I cross my arms under my chest, smirking at Laney’s quiet giggle.

“You’re a brat child.” I roll my eyes once more, shaking my head as I walk around her and continue toward the yard.

Laughing at her, I yell, “Love you too, Mom,” over my shoulder. Dropping my empty glass off on a waiter’s tray walking by, I mindlessly wander, looking back to see Mom and Laney trailing behind me. I can’t hear what she’s telling her but I can assume that it’s something ridiculous about how not to act like me. Laney’s eyes find mine briefly as she smiles and nods along with my mother’s rant.

Turning forward, I face-plant into a warm cotton-covered chest, bergamot and vanilla wafting around me. Big hands wrap around my upper arms to catch my fall, my eyes latching onto the ink scrawling up one of the long limbs. Straightening, I find myself smiling up at Remy, my eyes clashing with the honey browns melting over my skin. There’s a silence that lands over us, muting the people around, an invisible bubble blocking out all other noise but the sound of my shallow breaths. I can almost feel his need to say something, feel the vibration of the hum he’s keeping in his chest.

I don’t know how long we stand there staring at each other but Remy is the one to break the silence. Eyes sliding over every inch of exposed skin in a far too intimate manner for the company we’re in. “I think we should go somewhere and…” His eyes flick up to my mom and back. “Talk.”

A laugh bubbles out of me and Remy’s hands drop. I cross my arms over my chest, feeling the eyes of everyone around us. “Oh, hi, Beverly, long time no see. Want to go somewhere and talk?” I purse my lips up at Remy. “That’s how a normal person would have started that conversation.”

His eyes scan the crowd before returning to me. “Are you more upset I didn’t say hi or that I haven’t been visiting?” He licks his lip with the question, a small dimple marking his left cheek.

“I…” I actually don’t know. I shrug instead of giving him any kind of real answer. “I’m upset I have to see you at all.” His smile widens at my lie.

“Hi, Bev.” His deep baritone spurs my heart to beat an unfamiliar rhythm. “Should we talk here then?” He moves even closer, nearly crushing the space between us, and my hand hurriedly rises to his chest, fingers involuntarily sinking into the heat of him as I keep him at an appropriate distance for the company we’re in. He chuckles against the touch, the sound working its way down my arm to snake around my heart.

“I don’t think that would be appropriate,” I murmur, my eyes tracking the swipe of his tongue as it wets his lips, my chest rising and falling in a quickening pace as he lifts my hand to his mouth, placing a soft kiss on my palm while locking me under his gaze.

“Sei la mia futura moglie. Posso fare come mi pare quando mi pare.”You are my wife-to-be. I can do as I please when I please. His lips brush my hand with the words, little jolts of hot lightening tightening my gut.

My mouth opens to respond, heart crawling up my throat, but I’m interrupted by my mother. “Oh! It’s wonderful to see you two getting along for once.”

Like a bucket of cold water has been dumped on my head I pull from Remy, his fingers trailing along my palm in a featherlight touch until his hand drops to his side. Remy’s honey gaze melts from me, flicking to my mom. “Mrs. Esposito, it’s lovely seeing you again.”

My mother beams, back straightening a tad. “And you as well, Remy. You haven’t been around as much lately.”

Remy’s tongue comes out to wet his lips, a small dimple marring his cheek, eyes flicking to me and back. “I apologize if my absence made anyone feel—neglected. I’ll have to work on my communication.”

My chest warms at his apology as my mother waves her hand in dismissal. “Oh of course not, we all know how the Famiglia can be.” She lightly pats his arm, walking around him. “Both of you come sit with me and your mother for a bit, though, before you leave. I’m sure Francesca would like to see how well you to are getting along. She won’t believe me if I just tell her.”

“Mom,” I scold at her back, my eyes finding a smiling Remy.

He reaches for me, his hand coming up to push my hair over my shoulder, palm cradling the side of my head as his thumb brushes along my feather tattoo. He pulls me close again, this time into his side, lips pressed to my hair briefly. “Let’s get this over with, with our mothers first, and then we cantalk.”

Chapter Eight

"Why are you smiling like that? Are you feeling well?" Julian tries to put his palm on my forehead and I whack his arm away, the smile still on my face.

We're at a somewhat underground fight tournament called Bloody Pig. There are only two rules that they strictly enforce: no outside weapons and no tap outs. We're actually here to see Donatello since he's the main event for the night. Thanks to Remy forcing me to take boxing lessons, I’ve become quite the boxer myself. And knowing that Donatello is one of the best there is and was the one to originally train me, is justreallycool.

"Yes, I'm fine, I'm just excited." I beam at the big bald man standing in front of the entrance, holding my arms out for him to pat me down before he even asks. My smile tugs a small one out of the corner of his lips as he lets me pass through the door and I stop just inside of it to wait for Julian.

"The amount of joy it brings you to watch grown men knock each other to near death is honestly a little frightening," he says as he comes to meet me, shaking his head.

I shrug at him as we squeeze through the crowd, lightly pushing a girl moving too slow out of my way so I can step up onto one of the iron bleachers running along the edges of the fighting mat. Inside of an old-school auditorium, the space is surprisingly well kept with shiny floors and lights that shine bright on the mat. They even sell refreshments out of the built-in kitchens but if you don't get here early enough, you won't get anything because they sell out pretty fast.

Standing up on the metal seat, I look for a spot closer to the mat. Julian comes up beside me, tapping my leg to get my attention. "Sit the fuck down, Bev, you can see just fine from here. We're in the second row."

I nod, "You're right." Plopping next to him with a wide smile, clapping my hands down on my thighs.

"You're so fucking weird sometimes.”

Shrugging at his comment, I look up at the giant timer they have on the wall that counts down until the next match. We still have a good ten minutes until Donatello fights. “It’s rude to be mean to someone about things they’re interested in. It’s like making fun of their laugh or how they smile. You ruin it for them.”

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