Page 84 of Mafia And Maid
ROSA
Camillo’s deep voice rumbles through the room as I continue to polish the wooden bookcases.
Ethan is nestled beside him, focusing on the colorful pages in front of them. The sight alone brings tears to my eyes. But it’s more than that. It’s watching them interact that squeezes my heart so often and makes my throat run dry.
As if he can feel me looking at him, Camillo’s eyes rise above the book. The smile on his face turns my body to a molten pool. It’s the same smile he gave me before our dinner date—the one that transforms his face and turns me to goo on the spot.
He continues to read softly, and I turn back to my work before my heated cheeks can give away where exactly my head is drifting.
What is it about seeing Camillo with my son that ignites some part deep inside of me? There’s something so unknowingly attractive about how soft he is with Ethan that it makes my heart race.
I try not to eavesdrop on their conversations—the fact that Ethan even talks to him, brief as it is, shocks the hell out of me—but I can’thelp it. I lean back, trying hard to make out all the words and relishing the fact that Ethan is getting more and more comfortable.
I know it’s a dangerous line to walk, but I want him to feel as safe as I do here—regardless of how temporary it all has to be.
“Swimming?” I hear Ethan’s voice pipe up.
I whirl around, nearly knocking the lamp to my left over. I catch it just in time and let out a soft sigh.
Ethan’s looking right at me, his big brown eyes pleading to go.
A tentative smile pulls my lips up, and I nod.
The smile on his face lights it up, and my heart clenches. This is my little boy again—the one he should have always been.
“He’s never gone swimming before,” I tell Camillo.
I can’t quite hear what he says, but Ethan bobs his head up and down and heads upstairs, leaving Camillo and me standing in the room.
“You don’t have to do this,” I start. “I can watch him while I clean.”
“It’s hot, and I could use the exercise. It’s not a problem.” His eyes travel along my body, leaving a heated wake in their path. “You can join us. You can spare some time, right?”
I shake my head. “I’ve, um, got a lot to get done.”
The idea of anyone seeing me in a swimsuit, exposed to the world, makes bile burn the back of my throat. And as tempting as it would be to sink into the crystal blue water and relax, I’m supposed to be working.
Camillo nods and heads up the staircase too.
I make a beeline for the kitchen, a perfect window to the estate’s yard and the pool within eyesight. I’m not too busy that I can’t watch, but I don’t want to be caught slacking on my job either. Despite Marco effectively dismissing my resignation, I don’t want to risk it. I owe them too much.
A while later, the sound of a splash has me jerking my head up, anxiety gripping me. Ethan stands on the pool deck, life vest and swim trunks bulking him out.
Camillo shakes out his head, pushing the damp strands back from his eyes. Even from here I can see the water dripping off his sculpted muscles and sloping down the valley of his chest. All his tattoos are on display, the ink crawling along his back like smoke surrounding a beast.The vivid lines and arcs highlight the dips and valleys of his broad back and bring his whole body to life.
His large hand reaches out toward Ethan before gently guiding him down to the deck, so that his legs dangle in the water. They’re talking, but I can’t hear their words despite the window being open.
Ethan’s being well taken care of, so I drop my gaze back to the fruit before me. The platter is nearly done, and pitchers of juice and lemonade sit on a serving tray. The laundry is the last thing I have to finish, and it’s running a cycle now. I could, if I wanted, go out there and dip my feet in.
I gnaw the inside of my cheek. I’d made the fruit platter and drinks assuming the others would join eventually. But so far, it’s just the two of them.
Bonding.
The word slips into my mind, coating with honey. I don’t hate it. In fact, I could fall into the sensation and never resurface. And that alone is a scary but tempting thought.
Shaking my head, I carefully balance the drinks tray in my hand and push out the door toward the yard.
Ethan’s soft peel of laughter is like a piece of beautiful music. I set the tray down. He’s splashing on the step, making small waves like he does in the bath. Camillo’s large body looms next to him.