“Whatever you wish.”

  If I could have anything I wished, I’d wish for a husband like Trace and a family like his forever.

  9

  TRACE

  “What are you doing?” Ana asks as I slide under the covers next to her.

  I hit the pillow a few times, trying to fluff it up a little since she only left me one. “I’m not sleeping on the couch tonight.”

  She pulls the comforter up higher so it’s almost to her chin. “It’s pretty comfy though, and I snore.”

  I roll onto my side, staring at her. “You do not.”

  “How do you know?”

  “I don’t care if you snore the paint off the walls, I’m not sleeping on the couch again.”

  “You didn’t have a problem last night.”

  “I was so tired I could’ve slept on the floor. But not tonight.”

  She’s back in a fresh pair of my old underwear and a tank top, looking as beautiful as she always does. I don’t think she could ever look bad. She has a natural beauty and hasn’t worn a lick of makeup since we got back to my place.

  “Are you worried?” she asks me, tucking her hand under the side of her head.

  “Why would I be worried?” I lie.

  I haven’t taken a deep breath since the moment she doubled over in pain. I was so worried that something was wrong and that we’d have to rush her to the hospital. It’s going to take time for me to feel comfortable again. Being beside her tonight will help. At least I can keep an eye on her and make sure she stays okay.

  “I’m fine. Really fine,” she says, moving one hand over her stomach. “We both are.”

  “Good, but I’m still sleeping in my own bed.”

  “Don’t hog the covers,” she orders as she flips over, facing the other direction.

  “Night, Ana,” I whisper to her back.

  “Night, Trace,” she whispers into the darkness.

  I reach over, turning off the light on the nightstand, ready to get some rest. I feel like I’ve been run over and left on the side of the road, being pounded by the sunshine for hours. Exhaustion doesn’t even begin to describe it. I close my eyes, letting my body sink into the mattress, and drift off to sleep.

  In what feels like a blink of an eye, the sunshine streams through the windows across from my bed. I squint, trying to block out the offending rays, but they’re too bright and strong to stop.

  I freeze when I feel the warmth and weight of a body on top of me. I peel open one eye, glancing downward and finding Ana slung over me. Her leg is tangled with mine, and her arm is thrown across my chest. There’s a puddle on my chest where her mouth is slack, and her cheek is smashed against me.

  Stunning.

  It’s the first word that comes to mind as I stare at her, soaking in her soft features. But the thing that strikes me most is the peacefulness on her face. She hasn’t looked this relaxed since she met me in the bar at the hotel. She was on guard, looking over my shoulder more often than I was, and it was my life on the line.

  And if I’m honest with myself, this feels good. Everything about it feels natural. No one has ever stayed the night in my bed before her. I had lines. Not many, but that was one of them I never stepped over.

  Ana’s breathing changes, and she starts to stir, curling into me deeper, holding me tighter. I hold my breath, not wanting her to wake up. But I know we can’t stay like this forever. We shouldn’t. We’re crossing so many lines. Lines we haven’t even created or discussed yet.

  As soon as her breathing deepens again, I lift her arm and carefully slide out of bed, almost falling flat on my ass in the process. She doesn’t move a muscle and is none the wiser. She’d never know she snuggled into me, making me feel all kinds of things I’m not ready to feel.

  I’m like a zombie as I stare at the coffeepot, wanting it to brew faster. My mind keeps drifting to Ana…my wife. I close my eyes, trying to control my breathing as the reality of the entire thing comes crashing down on me. My head suddenly feels like it’s going to explode, and my heart’s beating so fast I’m worried it’s going to burst through my chest.

  I pick up my phone, shooting a text to my brothers.

  Me: I think I fucked up.

  They’re really the last people I should tell. They’ve given me shit since the day I was born, but they’re also the two who would have my back in any situation.

  Carmello: What did you do now?

  Rocco: Well, that didn’t take long. It’s your theme.

  I grumble under my breath and think about whether I should be honest. I already have a headache, and the day hasn’t even started.

  Carmello: Spill it.

  Me: There’s a lot to say. Can you come over?

  Rocco: Well, damn. It must be big.

  Me: Huge.

  Carmello: Gimme 10.

  Rocco: On my way.

  Like I said, they’d drop everything without asking for further explanation. I’m fairly certain they’re hoping it’s bad so they can bask in my misery, but no matter what they’re imagining, it’s nothing close to reality.

  As soon as the coffee’s done, I pour myself a mug and head outside to wait for my two older brothers. I prepare myself for the conversation and the shit they’ll no doubt give me.

  I’ll deserve it too. I’ve been a cocky asshole, spoiled by my parents for being the baby since the day I came out of the womb, demanding all the attention. I got away with more than they did, and I made no apologies for my shitty behavior.

  They weren’t Boy Scouts either. They did some crazy shit and gave my parents enough grief. By the time I was in my late teens, they were tired and worn down for the most part.

  I’m leaning against the railing, taking a sip of my coffee when Carmello comes barreling into the parking lot of my apartment complex. He’s blasting music with the windows down, looking overly excited to learn about what I’ve fucked up.

  Brotherly love.

  “Hey, fucker,” he says with a chin lift as he climbs out of his souped-up vintage car. “You look like shit.”

  “Thanks,” I mumble, giving him the middle finger with my free hand. “You don’t look any better.”

  “Fuckin’ kids never sleep. I’m exhausted.” He takes long, slow strides toward my patio.

  I laugh behind the rim of my mug. He bitches about the kids, but I’ve never seen a man more in love with the little creatures. “Keep knocking her up.”

  “I’m getting fixed. No more. I’m done.”

  “Sure,” I mutter, motioning to the chair as I take the one next to it. “I don’t believe you’re done.”

  “Completely done.”

  “Want coffee?”

  He shakes his head. “If I have any more, I’ll have a stroke.”

  “You’re dramatic. You should’ve been a girl.”

  “Fuck off.” He leans back, rubbing his hand down his face. “You asked me to come, and then you insult me.”

  “You started it,” I tell him, staring out across the parking lot as Rocco comes tearing into the place much like Carmello.

  “I see someone else has had his limit of caffeine this morning. That’s family life.”

  “Fuck,” I mutter under my breath, trying not to give anything away.

  In nine months—or is it ten?—Ana will be giving birth. And if I don’t figure a way out of this mess with my head still attached, I’ll be the one mainlining caffeine to function.

  Rocco jogs up the path to my patio, looking like he hit the jackpot. “I can’t wait to hear this shit,” he says with the biggest smile. “Things were starting to get dull in this family, but I have faith in you bringing back a little excitement.” Rocco leans against the railing, staring at Carmello and me with his arms crossed over his chest. “So…”

  I clear my throat, suddenly feeling like I can’t breathe and regretting sending the text. In my defense, I hadn’t had my coffee, and my brain wasn’t functioning in any capacity. “You remember about the fight I got in?”

  “Which one?” Rocco asks with a cocky grin. “You have to be more specific, bro.”

  “The poker game, douchebag,” I snap.

  Rocco nods. “The most recent fight with the kid who’s connected.”

  “He’s not just connected, Roc. His dad is the big guy,” Carmello reminds him since we’ve been over this before. “Trace sure knows how to pick them.”

  The door to the apartment opens, and my stomach drops. All eyes, including mine, swing toward Ana.

  “Oh, sorry,” she says, standing there in nothing except my underwear and tank top.

  My brothers are too stunned to speak, which is entirely unlike them. They always, and I mean always, have something to say.

  “Coffee’s ready,” I tell her. “I’ll be in in a few.”

  Her gaze moves from me to my brothers, but she doesn’t acknowledge them completely. “Got it,” she says, stepping backward and closing the door.

  I don’t say anything right away, and neither do they. They’re still in shock that someone’s in my apartment and she clearly stayed the night.

  “Bro,” Carmello finally says. “You have two secrets.”

  “Fuck me. I never thought I’d see the day you’d let a chick stay at your place overnight. Holy shit. I need to alert the press,” Rocco teases.

  I lean forward, setting my coffee mug on the cement before placing my elbows on my knees. “It’s complicated.”

  “Who’s the hot piece of ass?” Carmello asks.

  “You’re lucky Arlo isn’t here,” I tell him, reminding him of his wife as he calls mine a hot piece of ass.

  Carmello shrugs. “She’d agree and ask the same question, but she’d probably phrase it a wee bit differently.”

  “Who the fuck says wee?” Rocco asks him with a perplexed look.

  There’s no use in beating around the bush anymore. I just need to blurt it out, let the news fly, and see what the hell happens. “That’s Ana. She’s my wife, and her father is the big guy.”

  Rocco staggers backward, almost falling over the railing to my patio. Carmello rocks back in the chair like I sucker-punched him in the jaw.

  “Wait. Wait. Wait,” Rocco says, holding up his hands. “Say that again. I know I didn’t hear you right.”

  “No. You did,” I tell him.

  Rocco shakes his head. “No, I didn’t.”

  Carmello scoots to the edge of his chair and turns his entire body toward me. “Are you fucking crazy?”

  “No,” I bark.

  “You’ve done some stupid, fucked-up shit in your time, but none of it has ever been this stupid and fucked-up,” Carmello chastises me, looking like he’s ready to launch his entire body toward me to choke me out.

  “It was out of my hands,” I say, keeping my eyes down along with my voice.

  Carmello pops out of his chair and starts pacing between Rocco and me. “What do you mean, it was out of your hands?”

  “It started a few days ago…” I start to explain as my brothers listen intently, not saying a word as I go over every little detail. They’re completely quiet and barely breathing by the time I finish telling the entirely too-long tale.

  “Jesus,” Rocco mutters, pressing his fingertips into the corners of his eyes. “You could’ve been killed.”

  I lean back, stretching out my legs, feeling more exhausted than I did when I climbed out of bed. “That fact isn’t lost on me. It was close.”

  “Dad’s going to lose his shit,” Carmello says.

  “He knows. They know.”

  “What do they know?” Rocco asks.

  “Everything,” I say.

  “And they’re okay with it?” Carmello asks me.

  “Not with everything, but they didn’t completely lose their shit. Mom was close to an aneurysm, but the old guy was pretty chill.”

  “This is beyond fucked up, even for you,” Rocco grumbles.

  “I sure as hell don’t like boring.” I laugh, because if I don’t, I’m liable to have a meltdown.

  “Now what?” Carmello asks. “You have time to get an annulment. Tomorrow’s Monday. It can be reversed.”

  “He’s still under threat,” Rocco says, reminding us of the obvious. “Her brother is a loose cannon.”

  “His brother-in-law,” Carmello reminds him.

  I wince. “It may be a little more complicated. He’s not the only issue. I need more time to think.”

  Rocco jerks his head back, horrified at my statement. “Think about what? It’s not complicated at all. Dad will take care of it.”

  We think of our father as Superman, and for most of our lives, he has been. But Ana’s problem is beyond his scope. And although I’m not the baby’s father, I’m not ready to turn my back on Ana and her unborn child. “She’s pregnant.”

  “Is it yours?” Carmello asks.

  Rocco grunts. “You’re a dumbass,” he says to Carmello.

  Carmello flings his arms wide. “How am I a dumbass?”

  Rocco shakes his head and rolls his eyes. “He just met the broad. How the hell could he knock her up so quickly?”

  “It only takes one time and, in our brother’s case, three to five minutes.”

  I glare at Carmello. “Rocco’s right. You are a dumbass. One, I take longer than that, and two, it would take more than a day to know she was pregnant. It’s like you’ve never had a baby. Jesus, Carm. You definitely didn’t get the brains.”

  And like the dumbass Carmello is, he smiles. “I have other magical talents.”

  “Thank God you have something going for you,” Rocco mumbles. “And somehow you have a wife and kids.”

  “Like you’re an Einstein, Roc. You’re one step above me in the brains department,” Carmello throws back.

  “So, to recap. You’re married to a woman you don’t know. It was spur-of-the-moment and under duress. She’s pregnant, but not with your baby. Her brother wants to murder you, and her father is one of the most notorious criminals in the country. Did I miss anything?” Rocco looks at me and waits.

  “About sums it up, but to be clear, we were both under duress, and you forgot the part about how she saved my life in the process. I’d probably be—” I pause and swallow “—dead if it weren’t for Ana.”

  “It was a misunderstanding, though,” Rocco states like it’s completely cut-and-dried.

  “Wouldn’t make me any less dead.” I run my fingers through my hair, trying to relieve a little stress that I didn’t know I had been holding in.

  “That shit’s the truth,” Carmello adds.

  “You two can’t tell anyone, and I mean anyone.”

  Rocco blows out a breath. “That’s a big ask, brother.”

  “You can tell Arlo and Rebel, but outside the four of us, Mom, and Dad, I don’t want anyone to know a thing until I’m ready to tell everyone. Got it?”

  “I’ll do my best, but you know secrets don’t keep for very long in this family,” Carmello says. “It’s going to make for an interesting Sunday dinner.”

  “Shit,” I groan, having forgotten all about the obligatory family dinner. “I’m going to cancel.”

  “You can’t,” Rocco says immediately. “They’ll know something’s up. You have to come.”

  “Bring the wife,” Carmello says.

  “Ana,” I tell him.

  “Bring Ana. You can’t leave her here all day. It wouldn’t be right.”

  “How am I supposed to explain her presence? I’ve never brought anyone with me before.”

  “Out-of-state friend from college,” Carmello answers, thinking quick on his feet.

  “That won’t throw any red flags or anything.”

  “Fuck it. Just say she’s your girlfriend. Let them get over that shock before they find out she’s your ol’ ball and chain,” Rocco tells me.

  “Maybe,” I mutter.

  “It’s the only way, bro. It’ll give them time to ease into you being with someone.”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Just do it. If nothing else, it’ll be entertaining,” Carmello adds.

  “I always want to be the center of attention.”

  Rocco rolls his eyes. “Dude, you love being the center of attention. You can’t bullshit us. Anyway, Ana will be the center of attention, not you.”

  “I’ll have to talk to her about it. It may be too much for her to deal with.”

  But to be honest, it may be too much for me to deal with. I already have a headache, and I haven’t even stepped foot inside the lion’s den that is my grandparents’ house.

  10

  ANA

  “Do I look okay?” I ask Trace as he sits on the couch, looking relaxed and scrolling through his phone.

  Meanwhile, I’m in a panic. I’m not prepared to meet his entire family. I don’t have my clothes, makeup, or shoes. I’m stuck wearing his clothes, which are less than desirable for any female to wear. I’ve never looked or felt so frumpy in my entire life. Not the first impression I’d like to give his family, but besides shopping, I have no other choice.

  Trace lifts his head, and his eyes rake over me, making me feel almost naked. “You look great.”

  He’s lying, of course, but I appreciate the untruth in this moment. I thought I was taking control of my life, but right now, I feel like it’s more out of control than it’s ever been. “I think I’ll head back to Miami tomorrow.”

  Trace’s expression immediately changes. “What?”

  “I should go. You don’t need me anymore, Trace, and I don’t belong here.” I don’t belong anywhere. My father and brother are more aloof than ever, and they’re too busy with their own lives and businesses to think about me. That is, unless they’re trying to control my every movement. And as soon as my father finds out about the baby, he’ll give me attention I don’t want or need.

  Trace is off the couch and stalking toward me before I have a chance to move. He lifts his hand and reaches for my face.

  I flinch out of habit, unable to stop myself from squeezing my eyes shut and readying myself for whatever may come next.

  “What the hell, Ana?” he says, but his voice is soft and warm. “I’m not going to hurt you.”