Page 58 of Mafioso's Muse

‘Should I have mentioned it?’

Willow’s eyes were full of the purest light. ‘Yes.’ After a beat of silence, she asked, ‘Will you stay? Give me one night?’

He searched those bright eyes of hers. ‘And then what?’

‘Then I’ll make you breakfast in the morning.’

‘And after breakfast?’

She swallowed. ‘Lunch?’

He ran his fingers through her soft hair. ‘You don’t seem to understand that if I stay, it’s game over. This won’t be some cute fling that we walk away from by lunch.’ He held her face, maybe too tightly. ‘There’s a line. If we cross it, your life changes.’

‘I handle change better than you think.’ She wet her lips. ‘You need to let me make my own decisions.’ Then she kissed him softly. ‘And mistakes.’

His expression turned serious. ‘Did you hear yourself? You already know it’s a mistake.’

She kissed the bruise on his jaw. ‘This line you speak of. I think we’ve already crossed it.’

His fingers curled in her hair, knowing she was right. They had crossed it long ago and had been trying to cross back unsuccessfully ever since.

He descended on her mouth once again. Then, gathering her up in his arms, he carried her to the bedroom.

18

April 2024

Sunlight filtered in around the curtains, casting a dreamlike haze across Willow’s bedroom. It took her a moment to register the empty space beside her, where Vaughn had been. The scent of his cologne clung to the linen, stirring memories from the night. Her body still hummed with all the sensations of him. Never had she been so worshipped beneath the sheets. Never had she been so thoroughly… devoured.

Rolling over, she listened for him within the house, but all was silent. The humming sensation was replaced with uncertainty. Surely he wouldn’t leave without telling her.

Slipping from the bed, she pulled on some shorts and a jumper, then went in search of him, relieved to find him out on the balcony. He was leaning on the guardrail, smoking while talking on his mobile. Every couple of drags, he would flick the ash from his cigarette into a nearby potted plant, careful not to make a mess. Willow smiled to herself.

When he was done with the cigarette, he turned and leaned his back against the rail, catching sight of her through the glass. She lifted her hand in a wave, and he winked at her while carrying on his conversation.

Willow headed into the kitchen and filled the kettle, then went about making coffee. Her gaze kept returning to the balcony, a childish excitement rising in her each time he looked in her direction. She was still getting her head around the fact that he had stayed. He’d chosen her over common sense.

They had chosen each other.

Once Vaughn was finished with his phone call, he lit another cigarette and watched Willow through the glass as he smoked. She picked up the two mugs and carried them out, expertly opening the door with her elbow before he had a chance to help.

‘I don’t know how you take your coffee,’ she said, ‘but I can add milk and sugar if you want it. Though I only have soy milk.’

He put his cigarette out and took the mug extended to him. ‘Black, no sugar.’

‘Then I nailed it.’ She settled next to him.

He drank, swallowing it down like it contained razor blades.

‘What’s wrong?’ she asked.

He pressed a fist to his mouth. ‘What is this?’

‘What do you mean? It’s coffee.’

‘That’s not coffee.’

She laughed. ‘Well, well, well. Looks like we have ourselves a coffee snob.’