I stare at him for a minute, remembering it’s Sunday and there’s a family dinner I was invited to that started hours ago.

  Mammoth isn’t looking at me as he takes the beer from the bar top as soon as my brother sets it down. The silence is thick, and the air around me changes.

  “So…” he says but doesn’t go any further.

  Fuck my life.

  “So,” I repeat before sipping my beer, trying to do something…anything instead of talking to him.

  He turns slowly on the stool, the beer in his hand, staring at my profile. “Anything you want to say to me?”

  “Nope,” I say against the rim of my glass and not looking him in the eye.

  “You sure?” he asks.

  “Yep,” I snap.

  “Then why is there a woman sitting by her grandmother’s pool crying her eyes out right now?”

  “I don’t know, man.”

  “You don’t know?”

  “I don’t know,” I repeat.

  “Pansy,” Ian mutters.

  “You look at your phone all day?”

  I shake my head.

  “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t knock your ass off that stool right now.”

  I turn, looking him in the eye, man-to-man. “She’s better off without me.”

  “Don’t disagree with that.” His eyes narrow. “But you sleep with her and leave her without as much as a goodbye like she’s a piece of a road ass?”

  I flex my fingers around the beer glass, grinding my teeth as I stare back at him. “She’s not road ass. That’s the thing. She deserves better than I can offer. Tell me I’m wrong.”

  He lifts his chin with a slight nod. “Can’t disagree, but she should’ve been part of that decision-making process. Shit,” he mutters, shaking his head. “‘Thanks for the fuck’ along with a goodbye would’ve been a nice touch, at least.”

  “How many women did you thank?” I ask him, putting him on the spot.

  I don’t give two shits about pissing him off more. He’s already mad enough, and whatever chance I had at getting a job at his shop exploded the moment I walked out Rosie’s door. I have nothing to lose now.

  “Not the point. We’re not talking about women in general. We’re talking about a Gallo. I don’t care how you treat anyone else, but Rosie’s different.”

  “We done?” I ask him, throwing his glare right back at him. “Shit’s in the past. Better that I hurt her feelings now than put her through so much more pain in the future.”

  “You’re a real dipshit,” he mutters, slamming his beer on top of the bar as he climbs to his feet. “No one who’s with a Gallo is worthy of them in the beginning, not even me. But that’s the thing about them. They make you want to be better…do better. And they can give a fuck what you did in your past. It’s the present and future that matter. You threw away what could’ve been the best thing in your life.”

  “Thanks for the pep talk,” I tell him, turning back around on my stool to face the line of liquor bottles behind the bar. “I think you have somewhere you’re supposed to be.”

  He leans over, shadowing me in darkness. “If you don’t go to her and beg for her forgiveness and love, this is one mistake that’ll haunt you forever—more than anything that has followed you from your past.”

  “Whatever,” I mumble, lifting my beer to my lips and pretending his words don’t have an impact. “Duly noted.”

  “Dumb fuck,” Mammoth mutters before stalking off.

  “Well, way to piss off the entire clan,” Ian says, putting himself in my line of sight. “That man doesn’t say much, but when he does…” Ian shakes his head. “He’s protective of the women in that family. Hell, all the men are. You’re lucky you still have your teeth in that pretty little face of yours after that talk.”

  I shrug. “What’s done is done, and no amount of intimidation is going to change that.”

  “He wasn’t intimidating you. He was clueing you the fuck in and trying to make you realize the enormity of the mistake you’re making.”

  “What the fuck do you care?” I snap, pushing my beer forward and tossing some bills next to the glass. “Get the fuck out of here with the fake bullshit that you give a damn what happens in my life.”

  “Dylan,” Ian calls as I stalk toward the exit. “Wait.”

  But I don’t.

  My feet never stop moving until I’m on my bike, hitting the open road and leaving everything behind. I don’t need the hassle from my brother or a stranger. What I do in my life is my decision and no one else’s.

  I was only looking for a good time, but things got personal in a hurry. Rosie’s grandparents are as kind as she is, and I have no doubt the rest of the family is too, even her father, who I always thought was an asshole.

  She deserves a guy who knows what family means and how to behave. He clearly isn’t me and never can be.

  My brothers and I practically grew up feral, and while I learned manners and respect after I left home, I still don’t have the knowledge to pull from not to let the shit from my childhood bleed in.

  I’ve never had to worry about anyone else except myself. I’ve never worried about who I hurt or how they felt. I’ve worried about myself and myself alone. But with Rosie, I want to keep her safe, and that would require keeping her as far away from me as possible, even if I want her goodness in my life more than anything. I’d sacrifice my wants for her needs any day, no matter the pain I inflict on myself in the process.

  17

  Rosie

  “How’d it go?” Tamara asks Mammoth, her husband, as he stalks back onto the lanai after taking off.

  “Message was delivered.” He sits down, grabs her hand, and kisses the top of it. “Ball’s in his court.”

  “What message?” I ask, looking between them as the lump in my throat rises. “And who is he?”

  “No one, baby,” Tamara answers, but she doesn’t do it while meeting my eyes like she normally would.

  “Who did you go talk to?” I ask again, and this time, my voice is louder.

  “You know where I went,” Mammoth tells me, and unlike his wife, he stares at me, and there’s emotion gleaming in his eyes.

  I gasp. “You did not go talk to Dylan.” I cover my face, shaking my head. “Oh God. Please tell me you did not go talk to him.”

  “Fucker hurt you,” Mammoth growls. “Of course I went to have a few words with him. I ain’t going to sit by and…”

  I move my hands off my face and hold one up to him. “One, it’s not your business.”

  “Became mine when you were out here crying.”

  I glare at him, the knot in my stomach turning into rage. “That doesn’t make it your problem. Ever hear of fuckin’ listening?”

  Tamara laughs, covering her face to hide her amusement, but I’m not sure if it’s at my statement or his clear inability not to take his own action. “Not his strongest skill,” she says. “I’m sorry, Ro. He’s protective.”

  I point a finger at her, waving it around, before I push back my chair. “He can be protective of you. You’re his woman. I’m not his woman. I’m a cousin.”

  I climb to my feet, looking at everyone sitting in the circle. “I don’t sit out here, spilling my guts and sharing my feelings, for people to take matters into their own hands. Every damn stubborn man in this family needs to stop. We’re not helpless creatures. We aren’t frail and in need of your protection. Our dads—and moms, for that matter—taught us how to take care of ourselves. We don’t need men to march away to save the day every time something a little shitty happens to us. I didn’t see any of you grabbing your sword and shield when the last guy broke my heart.”

  “Sword and shield?” Pike, my brother-in-law, asks my sister Gigi because he’s confused.

  Shocker. God, I love the men my cousins and sister married, but damn, they are a clueless bunch sometimes.

  “She’s talking about white knight shit,” Gigi explains. “You all do it.”

  “God,” I groan, lifting my face toward the sky for a moment before looking around the table. “Just because you have a dick between your legs doesn’t mean you’re the savior of all womankind. Stick to worrying about your own women, and leave the rest of us alone.”

  “Rosie,” Mammoth says, and his voice is sweet when he says my name. That’s the thing about Mammoth. He’s one of the nicest guys you’ll ever meet, but if you didn’t know him, you’d probably shit your pants if he were heading your way. “Come on now.”

  “Come on now?” I ask, tilting my head and blinking. “Want to expound upon that, Shakespeare?”

  “You’re like a little sister to me.”

  “If I were your little sister, I would’ve socked you in the eye for doing that shit.”

  “Fuckin’ women,” he mutters next, not alleviating my anger at all. “You want the fairy tale, which always includes a guy who saves you and looks out for you, but then when you get it—”

  Tamara smacks his arm. “Pick your words carefully.”

  He grumbles and swings his gaze back my way. “I’m sorry.”

  “Thank you,” I snap. “From now on, my love life is off-limits. If I share, I share, but that doesn’t give any of you the right to talk to someone as if you’re my keeper. Got it?”

  They look shell-shocked but slowly nod.

  “Good.” I collapse back into my chair, exhausted from last night and this entire conversation. I forget about my back and wince as soon as my spine meets the hard patio furniture.

  “You hurt?” Gigi asks, missing nothing.

  “I’m fine.”

  “They did it against the wall,” Luna says, to my absolute horror. “You know how that feels.” She winks at Gigi, giggling.

  “Oh lord,” Pike mutters.

  “I really don’t want to hear this,” my cousin Nick mumbles into his palm.

  “I knew you slept with him, but girl, I need more details,” Jo, Nick’s wife, says with a smile.

  “Not now.” I slide my sunglasses back over my eyes.

  “Dinner’s ready,” Mom yells from the sliding glass doors.

  “Not a word of this to anyone,” I warn them.

  “Lips are sealed,” Lily promises. “No one will say anything. Your love life isn’t anyone’s business.”

  “It’s not love,” I say a little too quickly. “My sex life isn’t anyone’s business. That’s a hard limit for me.”

  “Got it,” Rebel, my cousin Rocco’s wife, adds. “You know your secret is safe with us.”

  Luna pops up from her chair, and I grab her by the wrist. “That includes you too.”

  “Sissy,” she says with a sugary bullshit smile. “I won’t say anything in front of the old folks.”

  “In front of anyone. If I want people to know I got banged against a wall, I’ll be the one to tell them.”

  “I’d be shouting that shit from the rooftops.” She winks.

  “That’s the difference between us. Promise me, Luna,” I say, waiting with her wrist in my hand and tapping my foot.

  “I promise,” she replies, sounding sad that she can’t torture me for the next few hours in front of the entire family, and pulls away from me.

  “Don’t trust her,” my cousin Trace says, standing behind me. “I know she’s your sister, but she’s trouble, Ro.”

  I turn to face Trace. “I’ve known her my entire life, honey. If she keeps her promise, I’ll be shocked, but it’ll keep a lid on her mouth for a little while.”

  He throws his arm around my shoulder, moving me toward the house. “Siblings are a pain in the ass, but you’ll get her back someday.”

  “Hopefully,” I mumble as we step inside.

  The house is abuzz with life. Everybody’s here like they are every Sunday for dinner. The kitchen has bowls of food covering every inch of counter space. As the family gets bigger, the amount of food it takes to feed the army grows too.

  There’s no longer enough room around one table or even two. People are scattered everywhere with plates in their hands, wolfing down the food my grandmother and aunts spent all afternoon preparing.

  I get in line before filling my plate with a little bit of everything. My stomach rumbles, hunger suddenly taking over my every thought.

  I’m about to walk outside when my father catches my eye and ticks his head the way he always does when he wants us to go to him.

  I blow out a breath and quickly smile, trying to cover any vibe he may pick up. He’s pretty clued-in on his kids, and it’s never been easy to get anything by him. He always catches Luna in her bullshit, but then, he expects it from her.

  “Hi, Daddy,” I say, folding my legs and sitting on the floor by the couch he’s currently using as his dinner space.

  “Hey, sweetie. How’s your weekend been?” he asks between bites of his lasagna.

  I stuff my mouth full of pasta and make a humming noise along with giving a thumbs-up as I chew slowly.

  “Do anything fun last night?” he asks, staring down at me, but his face is unreadable.

  I almost choke, but somehow, I keep chewing without stopping.

  Fuck.

  I’m an idiot.

  He knows.

  I know he knows.

  Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

  Of course, he knows.

  I’m sure it was the talk of the afternoon how Dylan and I came here last night and had dinner with my grandparents.

  Why would I think that would stay a secret? My family works one way, and secrets aren’t part of the special sauce.

  I swallow what feels like a softball before I answer him. “No,” I lie, something I rarely do to my father unless it’s for Luna’s sake.

  He raises an eyebrow. “No?”

  “No.”

  “No?”

  “Dad,” I warn, losing patience.

  “Did you do anything boring yet?”

  I glance upward, meeting his questioning gaze. “Daddy, you want to just come out and ask whatever you want to ask? You clearly have a specific question. You always used to say, ‘I never ask a question unless I know the answer to it.’”

  He gives me a small smile. “You always did listen to every word I said.”

  “I may not have always followed your advice, but I paid close attention. So, be straight with me.”

  He sets his plate down on the table next to the couch. Luckily, the rest of the family is busy eating and talking, not paying us any mind. “Did you bring Dylan here last night?”

  “Well, you obviously know the answer.”

  I hate when he’s like this. I already know he’s going to lay into me much like he did at my apartment about how Dylan’s trash because his father was an abusive jerk.

  Dad sighs and leans forward, placing his elbows on his knees. He moves his face closer to me in case anyone else is listening. “I’m not happy.”

  “Shocking,” I whisper. “Grandma and Grandpa liked him and were happy he was here.”

  “I heard. I heard way too much about how great he is. I’m still not happy.”

  I set my plate down next to his and turn my body around so I’m facing him dead on. “I don’t think you’ll ever find happiness when it involves Dylan Walsh.”

  “I’m fine with him, just not when he’s around my family.”

  My brows furrow, and I grind my teeth, thinking of the right words to say. I’m not a little girl, and although my father’s approval would be nice, it’s not required. “Did every parent love you when they met you?”

  “No,” he growls.

  “Did you get into some trouble when you were young?”

  “Yes.” His upper lip curls because he knows where I’m going, and he hates every minute of it.

  “Are you the same man you used to be?”

  “No,” he grumbles.

  “Are you the same as Grandpa?”

  “You know I’m not.”

  “What did Dylan ever personally do to you?”

  “Nothing. But his father…”

  I raise an eyebrow, twisting my lips.

  “Fuck.”

  “He’s a good man. He saved me when I could’ve very well gotten more than a bruise on my face. That other man had no issue hitting me once, and he could’ve done worse. And when Grandma and Grandpa needed help and we were supposed to go on a date, Dylan didn’t hesitate coming here to help them instead of going out.”

  “You deserve better.”

  “I’m sure a lot of people told Mom that too.”

  “I don’t think I was worthy of your mother, but no one would’ve ever loved her more or treated her better than I do.”

  I can’t believe I’m defending Dylan after what he did last night, but I can’t stop myself. I’m sure it was part of his decision when he dipped out before I woke up. How could there be anything more than what we had when my dad has been against him because of the sins of his father?

  “Dylan was just a kid. His father was cruel and hurt those boys. You heard him. I know I did, and I was just a little girl. He had a horrible childhood, and you’re still punishing him for something he had no power or control to change. When does he have to stop paying for being born into the wrong family?”

  Dad’s quiet as he stares at me, taking in everything I have to say. “You’re not wrong.”

  “I never thought I was, but thanks for the affirmation.”

  “I did feel bad for those boys. I called Child Protective Services more than once over how they were being treated and cared for, but somehow, he was able to keep those boys and put them through hell.”

  “Dylan is not his father, Dad. He’s been sweet, kind, and caring when it comes to me and was nothing by respectful yesterday when he was here. I can’t imagine what his life is like, except for six brothers who hold a grudge against him because he got out when they never did.”

  Dad reaches out and brushes my hair off my shoulder. “You’re right, sweetheart.”

  I blink, not having expected that response. I thought he’d put up a little more fight. “I am?”

  “Yes. I’m able to admit when I’m wrong.”

  “It’s not something you’ve done often.”

  “Well, that’s because I’m not often wrong,” he mutters.