Page 25 of The Woman with the Target on her Back (Grassi Family)

Aurelio had time to pack.

I had left in an emergency.

I’d have to adjust.

“Yep,” he agreed. “I’ll be back.”

We took turns getting changed and making up the couches as best we could.

Aurelio dropped off pretty quickly, but I was still buzzed. And, judging from the noises coming from the bedroom, I wasn’t the only one.

Getting up, I made my way to her door, listening to make sure she wasn’t crying or something like that before I rapped lightly.

“Yeah?” she called.

Opening the door, I found her pacing in front of the windows, sans her jeans, leaving her in her tee and a pair of red panties with a little lace trim. And, fuck, they were showing off a tempting amount of ass. And those long legs of hers too.

“Can’t sleep?” I asked.

“Don’t sleep,” she corrected. “Much,” she added. “I would normally be cleaning my house or watering my plants right about now. Then catching three or four hours right before sun-up when I head to the shop to bake.”

“Every day it’s like that?” I asked.

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why would you want every day to be like that?”

Her chin angled up and her eyes slit.

That was the wrong thing to say, apparently.

“Because it’s my life?”

“You could hire help at the shop, so you have some time to yourself.”

“To do what?” she asked.

“Hobbies. See friends. Live your life.”

“I see my friends at work,” she said. “And my ‘hobbies’ are more along the lines of community service. Which I do find time for. Why do you care what my schedule is like?”

“I’m not trying to start a fight. But not sleeping isn’t great. Especially when things are… going to be dicey for a while.”

“Dicey,” she repeated, dropping her arms with a deep exhale. “Yeah, that’s a nice way to put it, I guess.”

“Can I ask you something without you biting my head off?”

“Probably not,” she said, but her lips twitched slightly. “But you could try.”

“Is it so important for you to stick this out here?” I asked. “Those developers have got to be sniffing around, throwing out some nice bids on your store. Why not take the money and run somewhere that you can start over without all this grief?”

“I was asking myself the same question while I paced,” she admitted. “I never gave a second thought to selling. You know… before. I believe in change, in trying to build up this community. But that was… that was when I was under my father’s protection.”

“Hey,” I said, seeing the sadness creep over her face. “There’s no saying that you won’t be under that again,” I reminded her.

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