Cut & Blow (Cut & Blow #2) - Ashleigh Giannoccaro Page 0,31

I forced myself to conceal, and suppress for fear of them not being reciprocated, are now on display for the world to see. I wake up smiling in the mornings.

My best friend and I will be related by marriage, but what the hell, family is family, isn’t it?

I told Rat we can’t see each other anymore, because it isn’t right that I allow myself to enjoy his company when my heart belongs to someone else. I see the glint of hope in his eyes when I touch him, even just in a friendly way. That is a dangerous connection, a one-sided one that I’m not going to risk my relationship for.

Some other meathead came in to finish the work at the salon. As quickly as Rat came into my life, he was gone, and it feels a little empty without him in it. But, there is so much going on I don’t get a chance to miss him.

Sal comes with me to my appointment, holding my hand and putting his hand on my slightly bigger belly while we wait. We speak about issues, about the future and this little family that has happened without us realizing it.

His wife beat the shit out of him. He has a black eye and a bruised rib, but she signed the papers and left two days later. Just like that.

When the little flutter of a heartbeat appears on the ultrasound, we both shed tears. We made that, we made a tiny human.

After the appointment we have lunch with the Russians. They make me feel a little uncomfortable, but Sal is more protective than normal and I relax after a while. When he asks me to leave the table and go ‘powder my nose’ I know they have business I am not allowed to hear.

Those moments remind me that this isn’t really a fairytale; my man isn’t a good guy. He’s a shady character from an underworld we pretend doesn’t exist.

Looking in the mirror of the ladies room, wondering if this is the happy ending I want or if I should run as fast as my legs can carry me, I’m reminded of how running from Sal ends. I think when we get home later I may just make him chase me a little. My cheeks flush and I am aroused just thinking about it.

I apply some lip gloss and step back into the restaurant to see if I’ve taken enough time to be able to rejoin them.

Only Sal and one other man, I think his name is Yuri, remain at the table and they are locked in a heated conversation.

I step back and go sit at the bar. Sipping on an apple juice, my latest irrational craving, I watch Sal work. Even from here I can feel the charm of his smile, his vicious form and strong presence. The man is a force to be reckoned with, and sometimes I’m still afraid of him. Then he turns to smile at me and that fear melts away into warm fuzzy desire, heated lust, and love that I’m afraid to admit is there at all.

When the tall, fair-haired man stands up, he shakes Sal’s hand and walks past me to exit through the back door of the restaurant. The action seems strange, but I am quickly distracted by Sal’s beard tickling my cheek where he kisses it, a smile still shining on his proud face. It feels special to know I put it there.

“Let’s go home and play for a while, Bunny,” he whispers, one hand slipping under the hem of my skirt.

I can barely control myself as I hop off the barstool into his arms, slide down his front and bolt for the front door. I know how to get his pulse racing, the scared little rabbit running from the predator.

He catches me quickly, putting his arms around me as I step out of the door, making me laugh. I’m not very fast, but the truth is, I like it when he catches me.

Sal drags me into the car and kisses me until I’m sure the valet is blushing. His hand is very much up my skirt and his fingers rub against my knickers, a soft promise of harder things to come.

In our post-sex comedown, we lie tangled in the sheets on his bed, my head resting on his chest, the salt and pepper hair dusted across it tempting my fingers to touch.

“I want you to come to church and Sunday lunch with me this