Page 56 of Of Desire And Deception

Pale blonde hair caught my attention as I passed a coffee shop, stopping me in my tracks and earning me a curse from somebody who had to sidestep to avoid slamming into my broad back.

Goldilocks.

She sat across from a man who looked like he’d never exited the frat boy stage of life, wearing a grey hoodie and a backward black ballcap on his head. My jaw clenched as I fisted my hands and peered to where Wynn was halfway back in the shop. What the fuck was she doing with another man?

My blood sang with the need for violence, to eliminate the stranger from her life entirely. Perhaps fuck her in a pool of his blood. I shoved the instinct down and tried to focus.

Wynn’s body language was stiff, and she leaned away from the man as he leaned in, sliding something across the table and tapping it with his fingers.

“Back away,” I said under my breath as I fogged the window before me. I didn’t know if I was warning Wynn or the stranger, but I knew I was barely holding myself together. Jealousy was an unwelcome emotion, and it threatened to undo all the work I’d put in trying to act like everybody else in public.

I puffed out a relieved breath when the man shoved his chair away from the table and walked off, looking agitated. Wynn remained behind, and I moved to follow the man until he got into the back seat of a waiting car. There was no way I’d make it back to my vehicle in time to follow.

Wynn was tossing her paper coffee cup when I turned around, and I slipped into the nearby alley, hoping my gamble would pay off. I waited in the shadows until her black coat came into view, her head tucked under the hood, oblivious to me reaching out. She shrieked as I pulled her from the sidewalk; the squeal cutting off as I slammed her against the brick side of the building.

I stepped close, invading her space and capturing her throat in my grasp. She smelled divine, and I allowed myself a moment of weakness to breathe her in. A growl rumbled low in my throat as I demanded, “What do you think you’re doing, goldilocks?”

Her nails raked over the tattoos covering my hand, and I loosened my hold enough for her to speak. “I was having coffee! What the hell are you doing, Cosimo?”

“Coffee?” I spat the word like it was a foul taste in my mouth. “With another man? Who was he, Wynn?”

Her eyes widened a fraction, but then her lip curled into a snarl. “You’re mad about some pushy dude who insisted on giving me his number?”

I dropped my hand immediately, running it through my hair and turning away, shaking my head. “I don’t know what I’m doing. I saw him, and my vision went red.”

“Here.” Wynn pawed through her purse and produced a crumbled slip of paper, shoving it into my hand with a huff. “This is his number. He wouldn’t leave until I took it. Call him yourself if you don’t believe me.”

The anger and wariness in her eyes didn’t turn me on. I felt… ashamed. That rarely happened. I cleared my throat and made eye contact, despite wanting to turn and run. “I believe you.”

“You know what?” She flung her hand out, shoving me away. “It doesn’t matter. I have to get ready for my shift. You need to go get a grip.”

“Wait,” I called out as she spun away. The slip of crumpled paper dropped to the ground as I reached out for her. “Wynn.”

“I’ll talk to you later, Cosimo,” she called without turning back to look at me.

She left me alone in the alleyway; the chill trying its damndest to drive through my leather jacket. I shoved my hands in my pockets and trudged back to my car, heading straight home and throwing myself into my cleaning routine.

My fingers were raw when I finished, and I fell into bed, exhausted, waking the following day with a stiff neck and my head filled with regret. Life had taught me to assume the worst about people until they proved otherwise, and I’d applied that logic to Wynn when she didn’t deserve it. This was when the man was supposed to grovel, but the thought of getting on my knees and begging was repugnant.

I rolled out of bed, crashing onto the floor when my foot missed its landing. Swearing, I dragged myself to the sparkling white shower and let the scalding water soften my screaming muscles. The longer I stood under the spray, the worse I felt about how I’d left things with Wynn.

Fuck, it’s time to grovel.

I dressed in my signature black and grabbed the container of cannoli Martina had given me yesterday. Girls liked that shit. I might not be the kind of man who would get on his knees and cry, but I could sure as hell stuff Wynn so full of pastries and my cock that she would forget she was angry with me.

It was just before nine in the morning, so I fought the end of Tuesday morning work traffic on my way to Wynn’s apartment, stopping by a florist to buy the requisite flowers for an apology. I found an empty parking space at the curb and balanced the pastry box and the bouquet of peonies when I pulled the door to the building open. I hadn’t bothered to text her first, in case she wasn’t talking to me. My footsteps pattered softly on the stairs as I climbed up to her floor. I took a deep breath and knocked solidly on her door.

After a minute without response, I knocked louder. I even pounded, drawing the attention of a neighbor who was leaving her apartment.

“Have you seen the woman who lives here?” I asked, trying to keep the harsh tones from my voice.

“Don’t know nothin’,” she muttered, clutching her purse to her chest as she hurried past me and down the stairs.

Well, that wasn’t helpful. I couldn’t blame her, though, since I wanted to break the door down, and I likely looked as unhinged as I felt. I rattled the doorknob, and it turned in my hand.

Warning bells went off in my head, and the hairs on the back of my neck rose with dread as I reached for my knife, flicking the blade open. Slowly, I opened the door.

Inside, the apartment was dark, save for the light coming through the closed blinds. Wynn’s shoes weren’t by the door, and my stomach dropped as I moved further into the small space. All of her meager belongings were gone. I tossed the pastries and flowers on the kitchen counter and yanked the refrigerator door open, then the freezer—no food inside. No bedding on the bed, no clothes in the closet, no girly shit in the bathroom.

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