Page 73 of Craving Danger

I take a deep breath and exhale slowly. “That’s why I’m hoping she’ll fall in love with me.”

We’re quiet for a while, just watching the men work, then Renzo says, “Hold up. Do you wear the balaclava when you see her?”

I nod, and when he bursts out laughing, I level him with a scowl.

His voice is thick with laughter as he says, “So you’re her masked man?”

Before I can nod, he bends over at the waist, and his laughter echoes over the yard.

“Fucker,” I mumble while a smile tugs at the corner of my mouth.

He tries to straighten up and grabs hold of my shoulder. With watering eyes, he says, “Okay, so seriously, what does she call you?”

Knowing he’ll get a kick out of it, I mutter, “Mystery man.”

When Renzo drops to the ground, he can barely say, “I’m calling you that from now on.”

“Try, and I’ll shoot you.”

“It’s worth a bullet.”

Shaking my head at my friend, I walk away to check with Marcello whether everything is on track.

Chapter 23

Samantha

Watching Ms. Jameson (who’s made it abundantly clear she’s keeping her last name) load a very disgruntled Mr. Parker’s plate with potato salad, a snort escapes me.

He keeps trying to stop her, saying he doesn’t want so much.

“You will eat every vegetable on your plate before you’re allowed to have meat,” she orders sternly.

“You’re going to kill me with all these vegetables,” he argues.

“At least you’ll die healthy,” she mutters.

“How does one die healthy?” Mr. Parker asks his wife. “Seriously, Matilda, do you hear yourself when you speak?”

She points the spoon at him, and the potato salad falls off, dropping to the grass between them.

“Why are you sitting all alone?” Mom says as she takes a seat beside me. “Go mingle with the neighbors and have some fun.”

I point at the elderly couple. “Shhh. I’m watching the show.”

“Are they at it again?” Mom asks.

“Ms. Jameson says Mr. Parker has to eat all the vegetables before he can have meat, and he’s not standing for it,” I catch her up with what’s happening.

“Lord only knows why they got married,” Mom chuckles. “They bicker all the time.”

“Hmm, sounds like another couple I know,” I tease her.

“Your father and I don’t bicker.”

“No, you just whack him with the spatula.”

She grins at me. “The Bible says spare the rod and spoil the child. I figure it’s the same with husbands. It’s my way of showing your father I love him.”

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