He put his lips on hers—not a kiss so much as a caress. Whispering against her lips, warming them with his breath, he said, “You make me want, Lia. Everything. That’s why I love you.”
His mouth covered hers fully, and Lia melted against him, sighing as all that frothy worry settled. Something big was still on the horizon somewhere, but not between them. Between them, there was only love. Real love. Need and support. Give and take.
After an endless interlude of unheeded time, Alex leaned back a little and smiled. “Okay? You believe me?”
“I believe you.” Lia threw her arms around his neck and pulled him back to the kiss.
~ 22 ~
Alex stood before the mirror on the back of his mother’s closet—the only full-length mirror in the house—and struggled with his tie. Despite wearing one every Sunday for the past several years, he didn’t think he’d ever get used to wearing a suit, though he’d better figure it if he wanted to be made; Nick Pagano’s sworn men dressed for success.
He wanted to be made. Of course he did. There was no point in joining the Pagano Brothers unless you had a goal of making your bones and swearing your fealty. He’d been with the organization since he was fourteen years old—almost ten years. And today, maybe, was the day he’d find out if he were worthy.
Nick had called him into his office.
This time, for once, he wasn’t afraid for his life. He knew Nick liked him, and trusted him, because he’d sanctioned his relationship with Lia. So this wasn’t a one-way trip to the office. Still, Alex was intimidated. A summons from the don was always intimidating. But he suspected the purpose of this one.
Alex suspected the don might be ready to offer him the vows.
He hadn’t been asked yet to kill someone in cold blood, which was usually the way a man made his bones, but he had killed, in a firefight. He was pretty sure—he’d shot, and a man had fallen, but there were other bullets flying, so he wasn’t entirely sure his had done the deed. Still, he’d done more than that, maybe enough. He’d protected the don’s daughter more than once. He’d witnessed—been invited to witness—the don killing a man himself. It made sense that Nick would want him bound by the vows. And maybe he’d shown his worthiness and his loyalty enough.
He wanted to be made. Of course he did.
Didn’t he?
Yes. He did. Yes.
So why did he feel so sick at the thought?
Nerves. Just nerves. It was a big deal; of course he was nervous.
He got the knot wrong again, and Mango rubbed up against his leg, no doubt leaving ginger hairs behind. Jerk cat. With a stomp of his foot that sent the cat scurrying and a mutter of Fuck! he yanked the misshapen knot loose again and started over.
“Here, you’re gonna wrinkle your shirt with all that yanking, and I am not ironing it again.” His mom pulled on his arm, making him turn toward her, and Alex ceded responsibility for his strangling to her.
Focused on his tie, she said, “It’s something big when you wear a suit to work. Can I ask what’s going on?”
Alex hated keeping his mom in the dark. His dad had abandoned them in truth long before he’d abandoned them in fact, so for most of his life, it had been him and his mom as a tiny little family, with his grandfather taking up the slack in the father-figure role. He’d told his mom everything all his life, until he’d started working for the Pagano Brothers. First, he’d known she’d hate it, but they’d needed the money, and it was what he could do to help at fourteen. Then, he’d had secrets she couldn’t know. Now he had secrets it would hurt her to know.
He hadn’t told his mother everything for almost ten years, but it still hurt to hold back.
He simply said, “Sorry, Mamma.”
She sighed. “Me too.” She, too, got the knot wrong, and started again.
“What for?”
“If I’d taken better care of you, maybe you’d have chosen a different life. I hope you would have.”
There was judgment in her words, of course. Her disappointment in his career path was obviously a judgment against it, but Alex never felt judged—it was herself she was disappointed in, not him. “You took great care of me. You still do.”
With a sad smile, she drew the knot up snugly at his throat and smoothed his