Page 39 of Falling for Carla

“I never checked. I didn’t trust myself, not if I found it unlocked.”

“Are you such an animal?” I laughed.

“When it comes to you I am. I’m a complete savage. And the devil help any idiot who gets in my way.”

I kissed him. “You are so hot when you’re a total caveman,” I giggled.

“Am I? I thought it was the button-down shirt and tie, the laptop and the slide deck.”

“It’s everything.”

With a sigh of complete satisfaction, I shut my eyes and nestled against his chest to go to sleep. He held me in his arms, and I fell asleep breathing in the scent of him, the closeness of him. And in the midst of all this hell and hazard, I was happy.

CHAPTER 27

DRAKE

The last few days had been blissful, and I wasn’t a man who used words like ‘blissful’. I was a cop. I taught about organized crime. I’d been known to have a cigar with my scotch and I’d called a waitress ‘babe’ before. I didn’t think I’d lose my masculinity by admitting that the words ‘joy’ and ‘bliss’ and ‘heaven’ had welled up in my chest while I was with Carla.

Nothing in my life before had prepared me for the intensity of living with her, talking with her, sleeping with her. She consumed all my senses, the vanilla scent of her hair, the taste of her, the silken smoothness of her thigh as my hand slid up it, the way her smile made something in my chest twist and unknot, the way her laughter and even her smartass comments sounded so good to me. I was undone.

I was undone by her, and I was loving every minute of it. She was so much less tense, relaxed with me, and talkative. The set of her shoulders and her jaw had softened, and the way she moved, the way she’d curl up against me on the couch and give me shit about watching baseball play-off reruns in the off season—all of it was better and brighter and more irresistible. I had started to learn her expressions, the way she scrunched her nose a little before answering when she didn’t like something or the smirk that came after I said something she didn’t agree with. So when I caught her looking out the window again, I came up behind her and kissed her neck.

“Are you rehearsing for Broadway? Gonna sing Maybe while gazing outside hoping someone will come take you home?” I teased.

“Annie is a great show, but I’m not sitting around thinking my long-lost parents are coming to save me from the orphanage. Good analogy, though. I used to watch that movie all the time at Christmas.”

“With your mom?”

“Well, yeah. It’s not like my dad was gonna sing along to Hard Knock Life,” she scoffed. “But my mom always indulged.”

I wrapped my arms around her from behind and she settled back against me with a happy sound. I loved it when she had a good memory from when she was a kid, especially since her rat bastard father had seen fit to break her jaw and burn her mom’s scarf—a fact that made me want to dig up the son of a bitch just so I could kill him myself. Love—or infatuation, I corrected myself because it would be too soon to call this intoxicating feeling anything like love—hadn’t made me soft. I’d still love to put six rounds in Russo’s belly for the hell of it if he still walked the earth.

Brent had let me know that Russo’s assassination had heated up the trouble on the streets, that the body count was racking up in LA and there was basically a trail of blood running to and from Nevada.

His contact at the NYPD said the shit had hit the fan and that Dominic Russo was taking no prisoners. Over the past few weeks, if anything, the Mob war had escalated, and it was more crucial than ever to keep Carla out of the crosshairs. I knew it and I would protect her at all costs.

One part of protecting her, I was beginning to see, was looking out for her spirit as well as her physical safety. She was in a better headspace now that we were together and talking and having fun, but she had still been cooped up in my apartment for nearly a month without stepping outside once. It had been easier for me to keep her caged up where I knew she was safe, at least at first. But she needed a day out, some time out in the sun instead of being cooped up with her grief and her worries about the turf war. The only person who could give her that was me. I could give her that break, that one day vacation and have her under my guard.

When I saw her looking out the window, that idea had taken shape. I even admitted to myself that it would be good for me. I’d spent weeks doing nothing but working and gathering intelligence on the Mob war and guarding an increasingly stir-crazy woman who I happened to have feelings for. I hadn’t gone out with my friends from the bachelor’s club in over a month and I’d spent all my time at work, the gym or the apartment. She wasn’t the only one who’d benefit from a day trip. If I was alert and prepared on a normal day, I was increasingly more guarded and veering toward paranoia. It was time to break free for just one day.

Over breakfast, I decided to see how she felt about it. There was a small chance she’d think it was too dangerous, but knowing her, I expected her to be thrilled with the idea.

“Carla,” I said.

“The pancakes are great,” she said, “thanks for taking over cooking duty.”

“You’re welcome. I was gonna ask if you had plans for today.”

“Let’s see—I might take a leisurely walk around the living room, see if your sock drawer needs to be rearranged yet,” she laughed, “then I thought maybe I could lure you away from your grading to take a bath with me later. Other than that, my calendar’s clear. What did you have in mind?” I grinned at her, excited as a kid on Christmas.

“I thought we might go for a drive, head out of town for the day.”

“Out?” she said, her face lighting up. “Like leave the apartment? For real? Do not joke about this, Drake. I will lose my damn mind if you tell me this is a joke.”

“It’s not a joke. It would do us both some good to get out of here for a few hours. My old chief’s daughter manages a vineyard up in Napa.”

“Oh my God, Drake,” she said, her smile enough to stop my heart. “I can be ready in five minutes.”

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