“I love bananas too,” Adaline says, super cute, fishing for food.

  Mrs. Caldo kisses her cheek again. “I’ll buy some. How about banana pudding?”

  “Yum!” Adaline exclaims.

  “Thank you,” is all I can say.

  I haven’t had a home-cooked meal I didn’t cook myself in years. The idea of going to the Caldo house and being spoiled for a little while doesn’t sound like the worst thing in the world.

  “You’re welcome, Rebel. I’m so happy to see you’re looking well. The last time I saw you, curled up with…”

  “Ma,” Rocco warns, his gaze dipping to Adaline. “Let’s not talk about that day.”

  Mrs. Caldo leans forward, placing Adaline’s feet back on the wood floor. “Got it.” She smiles at her son, but it’s not joyful. “I’ll see you three around seven.”

  “We’ll be there,” I say to her with nothing but happiness. “Will Carmello be there?”

  “Mello!” Adaline exclaims. “Pink car. Wiggle. Wiggle. Wiggle.”

  “Pink car?” Mrs. Caldo looks confused, ignoring all the wiggles.

  “She insists he has a pink car, and you know how much Carmello loves that.” Rocco laughs, running his hand over the top of Adaline’s hair playfully.

  “Pink,” she argues, pouting and sticking out her chin because no one’s going to convince her of anything different.

  “Whatever you say, kid.” He shrugs with a sigh. “It’s whatever color you say it is.”

  “You learn faster than your brother, sweetheart,” Mrs. Caldo tells him, leaning in to give her son a big kiss. “I’ll see you tonight.”

  When she’s done kissing him, she moves back to me with her arms open. “I can’t wait to have two more girls in the house,” she whispers in my ear.

  I smile, but there’s a knot in my stomach. She’s so kind and loving, but she makes it sound like we’re sticking around, which we’re not. But I can’t break her heart, at least not yet. “Thank you,” is all I can say, repeating those words as often as Rocco says “I’m sorry” to me.

  As Mrs. Caldo moves toward the door, Adaline rushes after her. “Hug,” she pleads, wiggling her arms in the air.

  “How could I forget, my little princess?” Mrs. Caldo says, wrapping Adaline in a giant hug and kissing her cheek.

  “Sucker,” Rocco says like he’s somehow immune to her charms, when I’ve seen Adaline work her magic on him in the short amount of time we’ve been here.

  His mom gives him a hard look over Adaline’s shoulder, and Rocco raises his hand in surrender.

  “Pussy,” I whisper, giggling.

  “We’ll see how ballsy you are with her, Rebel. She’s not easy to say no to.”

  “Oh, I know. But I don’t pretend to be tough and then crumble with so much as a look.”

  “You will,” he laughs back. “Oh, sugar, you so will.”

  Damn it.

  I have a feeling this entire family will have me sucked in before I know what hits me. I’m not sure my heart can take the loss of their absence if I allow any of them to get too close.

  This is just dinner.

  Our stay here is only temporary.

  Do not get sucked in.

  Do not fall in love.

  And absolutely do not kiss Rocco Caldo.

  But fuck…I want to kiss his lips more than ever before, letting him sweep me away like he did so long ago.

  11

  Rocco

  My father sits across from me in his big leather chair, rubbing his hand slowly up and down his jeans and giving me his notoriously hard stare. “You know what you’re doing?”

  “Not a damn clue,” I answer honestly.

  The man can spot a lie from a mile away and would see through my bullshit no matter how hard I tried to be convincing.

  There is a hint of a smile on his lips before it vanishes. “I looked into the man.”

  “And?” I lean forward, resting my elbows on my knees and bracing myself for whatever dirt he has been able to dig up on Beau.

  “He’s trash.”

  I hold my father’s gaze, not shaken by the little bit of information he’s just given me. “Well, obviously. That’s not telling me anything I couldn’t already guess.”

  “He has a rap sheet going back ten years, and it’s as long as my arm.”

  “Violent crimes or petty shit?” I ask.

  “A mix.”

  “Domestic violence?”

  My father’s nod is small, but there. “Neighbors called the cops a few times on him. He was arrested and processed once, but when it got to the hearing, the girl never showed.”

  “Damn,” I mutter, shaking my head. “Anything else?”

  “Mostly theft. Looks like he’s out to make cash but without ever holding a job. I’ve seen the type a million times in my line of work. All about the easy money.”

  I straighten, resting my back against the chair. “Think I can buy him off?”

  “Probably, but a man like him doesn’t seem the type to care about a deal or a handshake. They always come back for more.”

  “I’ll make him care.”

  My father laughs. “Oh, to be young and naïve.”

  “I’m neither,” I tell him, raising my hand to my chin, stroking the stubble near my jaw. “Every man has a price, and since he doesn’t care about Adaline, I’m sure his isn’t that high.”

  He stands and walks toward a shelf where he’s set up a few bottles of booze and glasses. “You like this girl, yeah?” he asks with his back to me as he pours two drinks.

  “I don’t know, Dad. We had something a long time ago. We barely know each other.”

  “Your mother and I didn’t either when I knew.”

  I stare at him as he lifts the two glasses filled with amber liquid and stalks my way so gracefully, the contents barely move.

  “As soon as I laid eyes on her, there was no other woman in the world who could hold my attention. Your mother fought it, of course, but nothing and no one was going to stop me from having her. But she wanted me as much as I craved her.”

  “That’s not how Mom tells it,” I say, taking a glass from his hand.

  “Your mother lies, son.”

  I raise my eyebrows, trying to hold back my laughter. “Doubt you’d be saying that if she were in the room,” I challenge him on his statement.

  “I would, and she couldn’t deny it. I got her, didn’t I? And she wasn’t an easy get.”

  “It’s more complicated with Rebel.”

  “Sure,” he mumbles into his glass before taking a sip and relaxing back into his chair. “I forgot how easy it was to chase after your mother with the MC and DEA breathing down our necks. Then there was Rooster…”

  “Rooster?” I ask, never having heard the name before.

  He waves his glass slowly in front of us. “He’s not important,” he says before continuing, totally glossing over the name. “Nothing in life worth having is easy.”

  “Wait.” I tip my head, blinking at my father because is he telling me to… Nah. My father isn’t the type to ever get in my business, especially not my love life or lack thereof. “Hold up. Are you saying you think I should be with her?”

  My father stares at me, barely moving a muscle. I know he’s studying my every movement. The man reads people for a living, and although I’m his son, right now, I’m the mark.

  “I’m saying to follow your heart, something you haven’t done in ten years.”

  “That’s not true,” I argue.

  He places the glass on his leg, looking as chill as if we’re talking about football. “Been watching you follow your dick around. At some point, you have to grow the fuck up, settle down, and start a family.”

  “I’m pretty sure you followed your dick around for a lot longer than I have.”

  My father laughs, his face going soft. “My life didn’t lend itself to stability. I was just trying to keep your uncle alive and the mission going, but the first chance I had after your mother came along, I grabbed it and never looked back.”

  The doors to my father’s study burst open, and Adaline comes running in, waving a piece of paper and squealing, “Rocky. Rocky!”

  I grab her by the waist as she comes to a stop in front of me. “Whatcha got there, princess?”

  She shoves her drawing in my face. “It’s Mello’s pink car.” She giggles, her eyes sliding to the doorway, where Carmello is perched against the frame, arms crossed, pretending to be pissed.

  “It’s red,” he groans, but there’s a small, barely visible smirk on his face.

  He likes the kid. Doesn’t matter that she says his car is pink; he likes her for it anyway. Probably the only female on the planet who could get away with those words, because how could you resist a face as cute as hers?

  I pluck the paper from her hands. “It’s such a pretty car.”

  “A pink car.” She jostles back and forth on her tiptoes, eyes moving from me to Carmello and back. She leans in, motioning for me to move closer to her. “Pretend,” she whispers.

  “It’s a pretty pink car,” I repeat, throwing in the pink to make her happy.

  How could I not want to see the kid smile? When she looks at me with those big blue eyes, I’d say just about anything to keep the smile on her face.

  “You’re a goner,” Dad whispers.

  “Addy, leave Rocco and Mr. Caldo alone, baby. They’re busy talking,” Rebel says, walking into the room and leaning down to grab Adaline.

  Adaline twists, moving away from Rebel’s hands. “No, Mommy. I stay here,” she says and throws herself at me, wrapping her arms around my neck.

  “He’s busy,” Rebel tells her, grabbing Adaline by the waist, but Addy just doubles down and holds me tighter.

  “No.”

  I chuckle even though I know I shouldn’t. She’s disobeying, but she’s so stinking cute, and the fact that she doesn’t want to let me go isn’t so bad either.

  I peer up at Rebel and smile, taking in the dip in the middle of her upper lip, remembering how soft her mouth was on mine. “It’s okay, Reb. We were done. The squirt can stay.”

  Rebel straightens and releases her hold on Adaline, but when her eyes meet mine, I can tell she’s not overly thrilled that I’m giving in to the kid’s whims. “Are you sure?”

  My dad stands and clears his throat. “We’re done. Let’s go back into the living room with the rest of the family,” he says, looking directly at my mother when he says those words.

  “That would be nice,” she tells him. “We do have company.”

  “I hate to be a bother,” Rebel says, her eyes moving from me to my father. “I’m sorry if—”

  He holds up his hand to stop her. “Don’t be sorry. We were just catching up. We should’ve stayed out there with the family anyway.”

  “Rebel, baby, you didn’t do anything wrong. Stop apologizing. Caldo women never apologize.” Mom looks at Dad, smiling at him.

  “That shit’s the truth,” I mutter.

  “Would you like dessert?” Ma asks, clearly not hearing me.

  “If it’s not you, baby, then I’m not interested,” Dad answers.

  Carmello and I gag a little, but Rebel smiles.

  “It’s apple pie.” Mom raises a dark eyebrow. “Still not interested?”

  “Warm or cold?”

  “Warm.”

  “Ice cream?” he asks as he moves her way.

  “Would I serve warm apple pie without ice cream?” She waves her hand at him and spins around, stalking out of the room with him hot on her heels.

  Carmello gives me a quick chin lift before leaving the study right behind our parents. Rebel and I are left alone after Adaline jumps out of my lap and skips after Carmello, chanting pink, pink, pink.

  “Everything okay?” Rebel asks me.

  I stand, towering over her, and place my hands on her arms. “We were talking about a few things.”

  She tips her head back, eyes on me. “Were you talking about me?”

  “No, sugar. We weren’t,” I kind of lie. “Just some other family business.”

  “Are you sure?” she asks, swallowing roughly and bringing her hands to my biceps.

  Without thinking, I wrap my arms around her. “Completely.”

  “I’m sure you always dreamed a woman with a little girl would land on your doorstep with nowhere else to go. It’s what every single twentysomething man fantasizes about.”

  I move my hands to her cheeks, tipping her head back so she can see my face. “Rebel—” I run my thumb along her bottom lip “—you’ve been in my fantasies since the last time I saw you.”

  Her lips part, and her eyes hold mine. “Don’t lie,” she whispers as her breathing slows.

  “Not lying, Reb. Been there every day and every night for ten years.”

  She slides her hand between us, placing her palm on my T-shirt right over my heart. “Not all the memories are happy ones, though.”

  “No. They’re not all happy. But I remember riding in the ambulance with you, thinking you were going to die too. I remember the panic I felt. The helplessness that ate at my insides.” I sigh, pushing down the knot trying to form in my stomach. “I can’t explain how relieved I was when they said you were going to be okay.”

  Her hand moves higher until the warmth of her fingers grazes my jaw. “I’m sorry you went through that. I’m sorry you were alone when Carrie died, but I’ll never be sorry you were there to hold my hand. When I opened my eyes, I was terrified, but when I saw your face, I knew…I just knew I was going to be okay.”

  “Rebel…” I lean forward, wanting and needing to taste her lips.

  “You two coming out or what?” Trace, my asshole younger brother, says right before our lips touch. “Mom’s asking.”

  The moment is lost. Rebel steps back, and her hand falls from my face, leaving my body cold.

  “We’re coming,” I growl, wanting to punch Trace in his pretty face.

  He tilts his head and smirks, eyes trained on me and not on Rebel as she moves toward him. “What’s wrong, Roc?”

  “Nothing,” I grunt, stalking in his direction.

  He grins at me, not moving.

  I jab his chest, glaring at him. “You’re a shithead for doing that.”

  “For what?” He shrugs, feigning innocence, and glances down where my finger still lingers between his pecs.

  “You know exactly what you did,” I say softly, knowing my mother’s now within earshot, and the woman has the craziest hearing ever.

  He laughs before rolling back and sauntering into the dining room like his shit doesn’t stink. Being the baby of the family has done crazy things for his ego, and with every day that passes, he seems to get cockier and cockier too.

  “Adaline, do you want whipped cream or ice cream with your pie?” Ma asks Adaline as she climbs up on Rebel’s lap.

  “Yes, please.”

  “So, both?” Ma smiles, loving an eater and kids. Adaline is like the killer combo.

  “Yes, ma’am,” Adaline replies as I slide into the chair next to her.

  “A lot or a little?” Ma asks, always the one to give us options.

  “A lot,” Adaline says, stretching her arms out as wide as they can go and smiling at my mother, knowing she’s going to get her way too.

  The kid has half the family wrapped around her little finger in twenty-four hours. My mother was a no-brainer, but the rest of us weren’t a forgone conclusion. Maybe it’s because we’re a house of men. My poor mother always wanted a little girl, but instead had three shitheads who were more interested in wrestling than playing dress-up.

  “A girl after my own heart,” Ma says while piling on the ice cream and then the whipped cream before placing the giant dish in front of Adaline and Rebel. “There ya go, baby.”

  “That’s a lot,” Rebel says, her eyes wide. “She’s going to be bouncing off the walls all night.”

  “No, I won’t, Mommy,” Adaline argues, grabbing the fork and digging in before anyone can take it from her.

  “So, Rebel,” Ma says as she gives me a plate with a smaller slice and much less whipped cream and ice cream than she gave Adaline. “There’re lots of job opportunities around here. In fact, we could use—”

  “Ma,” I warn, knowing she’s fishing for information because it’s what she always does.

  My mother lifts her hands up, shrugging. “What?”

  “You’re being nosy,” I tell her.

  She laughs and swats her hand in the air. “I’m being friendly. There’s a difference.”

  “Sure,” I mumble.

  Rebel’s warm palm lands on my leg under the table, giving it a little squeeze. “It’s okay,” she says to me before turning her attention back to my ma.

  “We could use a new front desk person at the shop. I’ve been going in a few days a week to help out, but I’m getting too old for that now.”

  “I don’t know, Mrs. Caldo.”

  “Think about it, honey. You’d be doing me a favor.”

  “I don’t know if this is where we should settle.”

  “Where would you go?” Ma asks.

  “I don’t know. I don’t have any family, so we could go anywhere.”

  “Oh, honey, you can’t live that way with a kid. You need to stay here and—”

  “Izzy,” Dad warns her now, giving her the side-eye as he holds his forkful of pie in front of his lips. “The woman is an adult.”

  “I know. I know,” Ma says, pushing her hair back away from her shoulders. “It’s nice to have two more girls at the table. I’d hate to see her go if she doesn’t have to.”

  “Oh boy,” Carmello mutters. “Here we go.”

  “It’s nice to be wanted, Mrs. Caldo.” Rebel smiles.

  “Izzy, please, or Ma. Ma works too,” Ma tells her.

  I shake my head, biting my lip, and get another squeeze from Rebel’s hand.

  “You’re very kind, Izzy. I’ll think about it. I didn’t expect any of this, and I’m sure Rocco doesn’t want me around his family all the time.”

  “Stay, Rebel,” I tell her, hating the idea of her moving around, especially with Beau somewhere out there and not knowing if he has any ideas of coming after her or the kid. “At least until we know about…”