For Fallon (4 page)

Luca

I watch Fallon leave the coffee shop confidently. It’s refreshing to be around a woman who doesn’t throw herself at me. This woman is fucking sexy without even knowing. She’s becoming impossible to resist, and the throbbing below is pushing me to have her.

Last time, Adriano ominously waiting in front of the coffee shop blew my game. I needed to talk to her alone, so I left. Adriano’s unease is growing. He’s sensing that my interest in her is more than professional. But my
Capo
is in Crystal Lake today, which gave me time to visit Fallon while he’s not around.

I came in with one goal: get to her phone. Mission accomplished. I didn’t even need to talk to her because she made it too easy for me to access it. As I stared at her reading her book, she was unaware of me, so I snatched the phone off
of the table and looked for information on it. I found one thing of importance that confirmed my suspicion.

I could’ve discreetly put the phone back in its original place because Fallon was lost in that e-reader. Yet that’s not what I did. I sat there for ten minutes, observing her. How she constantly brushes back her hair behind her ear. How she refuses to stop reading for even a second. How the side of her sexy mouth turns up just a little when she reads something comical. How her face flushes as she - I assume - reads something sensual.

One guy passed her and gawked at her beautiful downturned face while she was unmindful. He was walking up to Fallon when I cut him off and decided to make my presence known to her. I shot the guy a look to fuck off - he scurried away.

One of my phones vibrates in my pocket. “Yes.”

“I need you here. They want to talk to the underboss or the boss. James won’t come,” Adriano informs me.

“What happened?” I head out the door.

“They want to renegotiate territory borders. Since we’ve been discussing cutting Crystal Lake, I thought it might be wise.”

“It could be a good move. Too many loose cannons are in that territory. I’ll discuss it with Salvatore.” In accordance with our
Cosa Nostra
rules, our lawyer must be up to date on all business decisions.

“
Consigliere
has been informed by James. Salvatore will contact you.”

“I’m going to make them wait a few days. I’ll be there Tuesday. Set up the meet. I need to check to make sure we didn’t overlook anything as to why they might want the territory, although I’m pretty sure I won’t find anything newsworthy. Then we’ll hand Crystal Lake over to
Leggia.” I end the call.

Stepping into my black Maserati
Quattroporte that I’ve parked a block away, I plan how far I can take this with Fallon. Only James and Adriano know about me tracking her every move. As long as I haven’t gained the information I need, I could see her without raising suspicion with James. Adriano is my
Capo
and my friend. I’m not worried about him because he’s only looking out for me. But James, my
Capo crimine
, I answer to.

Fallon

I call Teagan the next day.

“Hi, babe,” she answers on the second ring and yawns loudly into the receiver.

“How was your first night?” I sit on the couch with a cup of tea in my other hand.

“
Urgh, there were children screaming on the plane, so I couldn’t sleep.” Teagan is not a mommy-type. “I was freaking tired,” she says, grunting. “I have a major jetlag. I’m lying in bed. It’s almost noon here. How is it without me?”

I snort. “The apartment is too quiet without you.”

“I
am
a loud bitch.”

“True that,” I acknowledge her statement. “But you will never guess who I ran into yesterday at the coffee shop?”

“A guy?”

“Yep.”

“Luca? Right?”

“Yep.”

“Why didn’t you text me the minute you saw him? Never mind. Tell me,” she demands.

“We talked, but I wasn’t in the best mood because I was dreading coming to the condo. You have no idea how lonely it is without you.”

“Aw, babe.”

“I was reading at the coffee shop, and he took my phone and added his number. We talked… He’s …interesting.” There’s something pulling me to him. An attraction I can’t seem to shake. An attraction I don’t want to shake. “I flirted with him.”

“You flirted?” she blurts.

“Don’t act so surprised. I
can
flirt.”

“I know that. And? He asked you out?”

“Uhm no.” I hesitate. “He did mention he was going to take me out on a proper date, but he didn’t specifically ask me out. He was ever the gentleman.”

“I bet he’s jerking off to the thought of you as we speak.” She laughs loudly.

I hold the phone away from my ear and scrunch my nose. “Shut up! Go sleep some more. I’ll talk to you later. Go rest.”

“I bet you can’t get that mental image out of your head now?”

I smile because she knows me too well. “Go back to bed, woman.” I click end before she can respond.

***

Unfortunately, Luca didn’t call all week.

The next weekend, I yearn for carbs. I enter the shop and slide into my regular spot. As I turn on my book and glance at the door, I see Luca strolling in.

He closes the distance between us surprisingly fast. “Hi, Fallon.”

Has he suddenly become a regular here? “Hi. You came back for the delicious muffins?” I tease.

Luca resumes his usual seat and squeezes my knee gently and caresses my thigh, the heat of his hand leaving a trail of desire, but the waitress interrupts us.

Luca sits back in his seat without breaking eye contact with me.
“Fallon. Lady Grey?”

I nod and
do
take a look at the waitress who’s doing her best to get Luca’s attention. Even with our intimate pose, she still tries to flirt with him. I inspect him to see how he’ll handle this.

He glances at her.
“Lady Grey and an espresso, please.” His attention is instantly focused back on me.

He’s been in this situation before. He knows to give his undivided focus to his present company.

His eyes rove over my face. “I’ve been thinking of you all week. It wasn’t easy to refrain from calling you. So Fallon, who likes good food and books, I want to know more about you,” he states in demanding, yet gentle, tone.

The waitress leaves, but not before sending me an indignant look, and I inwardly laugh at her. “I’m actually from around here. Born and raised in Chicago, at Lake Forest. I moved to The Loop with my best friend, Teagan. I live near here.”

“Would that be the lovely lady who was snoring in the cab when we met?” His lips curve in a restrained grin.

I laugh while taking in his customary handsome attire. “Yes, that would be her. Not her finest moment.” Our drinks are delivered, and we both palm our cups while Luca’s legs are contentedly hugging mine. “I came here with Teagan to study Studio and Writing at the School of the Art Institute of Chicago, and I never left. After graduation, I worked several jobs and am currently a copywriter at Charity Events.”

“What does a copywriter at Charity Events do?”

“Charity Events hosts parties for different charities to raise money and attract sponsors. The company has relations with several wealthy benefactors, which allows us to host these events without any costs to the charities. They hire us. We have a small team of seven people who arrange everything surrounding an event. We have fixed contracts with caterers and several locations to keep the budget low. We organize costume balls, high teas, and club parties. The invites to the events are highly coveted and expensive; we usually make a profit solely on the sold invites. With the profit of each event, we pay the costs of organizing, and the rest goes to the charity. Our team is being paid by the owner, and ten percent of our income is also invested into every event.” I catch his eyes thinning briefly. “I, as the copywriter, am responsible for all the written communication: letters to our benefactors and charities, invites, publicity ads for the events. Have you heard of us?”

“I can tell that you enjoy your job.”

“I do. I tend to get distracted quickly, but - for now - I’m content with this job. I’m elated to work for these charities, to raise money without charging them any money for our work.”

“That does sound admirable,” he murmurs as his phone rings. He takes it out of his pocket and puts it on silent.

“Luca, tell me about you.”

He ponders for a while before starting. “I’ve also lived in Chicago my entire life. My father was Italian, my mother American. No siblings. You?”

I shake my head. “No siblings either. You speak Italian?”

“A little.” His relaxed demeanor has slightly changed. “Grew up on the streets of The Loop. I’m a software developer; security software.” He shifts in his seat when his phone vibrates continuously.

“Where do you live?
Work?” I ask.

Luca gives me a curious stare, and I can’t tell what he’s thinking.
“The Blackhall, by the Museum of Contemporary Art Store. I work for myself, with a partner.”

“Is your partner your friend who was waiting for you last time we met here?”

“Yes,” he counters firmly. “I assume it’s Teagan who left the country for work?”

“Yes. She’s a photographer. She’s in London now. We’ve known each other since we started high school.”

“How are you coping since she left?” He runs his hand through his hair that’s falling over his forehead, giving him an appealingly disheveled look.

I show him my reader. “I have my books to keep me company. Do not ask me if I like reading,” I warn, smiling warmly at him. My interest in reading
goes far beyond ‘liking’ it. “Reading is my addiction. I usually have the e-book and paperback of the book I’m currently reading. From my favorite books, I try to purchase a copy of every paperback with a different cover. I get aggravated if I haven’t read at all during the day. Romance novels are my first love. Teagan and my parents always good-naturedly complain that I’m continually lost in books.”

His response makes my heart skip a beat. “When you compare the sorrows of real life to the pleasures of the imaginary one, you will never want to live again, only to dream forever.”

This is the moment I know I could fall for this guy. Of all the books in the world he could’ve chosen to quote, Luca quotes one of my all-time favorite classics: Alexandre Dumas’
The Count of Monte Cristo
.

I stare at him in silence after he quotes Dumas, amazed that he chose to iterate that specific one.

Luca leans toward me. “I’m good, right?” Amusement twinkles all over his face.

I can’t hold in my wide grin. “You were until you added
that
.” Referring to his last arrogant sentence. “You did happen to relay a quote from one of my favorites.”

“Dumas,” we both breathe.

Drinking my Lady Grey, I sigh in contentment of my warm tea. “Tell me more about you? You talked about your parents in past tense?”

For a moment, he’s lost in melancholy. “I lost my parents in a car accident when I was ten. Raised by my uncle -
mio zio
Joseph,” he huskily says it in Italian. “
Mio zio
resides in Venice now, but he raised me.”

I trace my fingertips over his hand as he tells me about his parents. I do it automatically and cease instantly when I notice my action. Peeking at my fingers and up at him, I see him smile at me reassuringly, so I carry on tracing.  I don’t comment, only listen and smile as my heart aches for a little boy that lost his parents.

“No other family?”

He pauses. “No.” And he turns his hand quickly to catch mine. His thumb leisurely circles the inside of my hand while holding on to it. Luca’s fingers work their way up my wrist, under my sleeve.

I hold in a moan as his simple touch causes my breathing to increase. “Are you close to your uncle?”

His eyes brighten with love. “Very. He was the one who helped me when my parents passed. If it wasn’t for him, I would’ve been put in the foster care system. I miss him when he’s so far away. His happiness - and he’s much happier in Italy than he ever was here - is important to me. I visit him often.”

“How often?”

“I try to visit him yearly.” His hand absently caresses my wrist. Every touch sends me spiraling down the path of desire.

We talk. We flirt. We touch. We laugh. We seduce.

He vocalizes his thoughts elegantly and accompanied with a passionate intensity.

It’s getting darker outside. The sky has turned from clear blue into a dark reddish hue, announcing the evening. After I finish my tea, I say, “I think it’s time for me to get home.” I grab my coat from the back of my seat.

Already standing, Luca states, not asks, “I’ll walk you home, Fallon.” He walks up behind me to help me slide out of my seat.

Not in the least bothered by his lack of questioning tone, I reply, “I would like that.”

Luca pays the bill at the counter, refusing to take any money from me, and we walk out together - serenely silent - to my apartment around the corner.

Standing before the entrance of my condo, I search for my keys in my purse. I’m forever searching for my keys, and I frustrate myself because I don’t know why I can’t leave them in the compartment designed for keys. Since he’s patiently waiting beside me, I invite him in. “Would you like to come in for a drink, maybe?”

He considers my offer and moves closer, aligned to touch. Our body heat mingles. He can enclose my entire body with his. I look up through my lashes into his eyes which are darkening with lust. The deep green of his irises have been overtaken by his black pupils. His hooded gaze is fixated on my lips.

Luca’s nose traces my jaw as he takes in a shaky breath. “You smell so sweet.” His hands come around my waist, pulling me to him tightly. His lips graze over my mouth, back and forth ever so lightly, while one hand pulls my head back to expose my throat. His lips start a tingling path beneath my left ear, his tongue flicking over the sensitive skin where my neck meets my shoulder. And then he finally lifts me up to him and kisses me.

Our lips touch gently at first, but the moment our mouths open, we both lose control. Our tongues entwine feverishly. His kiss tastes full of promised desire. He pulls back a fraction, and I immediately close the distance between us. Luca smiles against my
mouth, because I think he likes this push and pull game we’re playing. The kiss is gentle, fiery, and sensuous. It sends tingles straight to my lower stomach. He kisses me on my lips, but I feel him all over my skin.

Our bodies melt together while our tongues passionately taste each other. The traffic around us fades away until there is only him and me. Luca pulls my lower lip between his teeth and
lets go gradually. He traces my lips with his tongue.

Our kiss deepens when he palms my head. I feel myself drifting away in the high of his taste. My breath intensifies. I suck on his tongue and am rewarded with a deep growl from him. My face is hot from our seduction and mingled breaths. Our chests are rising and falling rapidly.

“I want to, but I have an appointment,” he grumbles, disappointed.

The world invades our private embrace. He’s still holding me, but I notice the traffic and people again as I try to step away to clear my focus. That kiss has left me spinning.  We’re silent as our breathing calms down. Not touching, only looking.

I don’t speak and turn to open the door, glancing back at Luca whose eyes are still overtaken by the black of his pupils.

“I’ll call you, Fallon. That’s a promise.” It comes out in an enticing threatening tone that makes me yearn for him. Luca’s tracing the pad of his thumb on his lower lip while he waits for me to disappear into the building.

When I enter my apartment, I let myself fall onto the couch with my coat still on, tossing my keys and purse on the coffee table. I touch my lips with my fingertips and bite my lower lip, lost in thought. My grin widens as I feel my heated cheek with the back of my hand.