Page 26 of Single Malt Drama
I glanced over my shoulder at Shanna and Enzo. “I can’t. Not here.”
He pushed himself upright and eased his injured leg off the chair. “You must be starving. Let’s get some dinner.”
“I ate on the plane.” And my stomach is in knots. It seemed as if no matter what I did or said, I ended up disappointing him. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s cool.”
It wasn’t cool or warm or cold or any other temperature. It was awful. We’d never had this sort of tension between us. I hated it. Things had changed since he’d asked me to marry him, and I needed them to get back to normal. I needed my friend, the guy who made me laugh even when everything was falling apart.
Marco stood, winced, and sat back down. “Would you grab us a couple of beers?”
“I don’t drink beer. It tastes like it has passed through someone already.” I screwed up my face and made a gagging sound to make him laugh.
“There’s wine in the house. You know where it is.” Enzo smirked.
My shoulders slumped as if they had a will of their own.
“Ignore him.” Marco squeezed my hand.
Nodding, I hurried inside.
I couldn’t blame Enzo and Shanna for suspecting I had something to do with their troubles. When I thought about the way I’d treated Enzo in Sicily, I cringed. I’d gone so far as to throw a vase at him to make him hate me. I did too good of a job.
By the time I found the beer and poured my wine, Shanna had made Marco a plate of food and was leaning over him, smiling.
He said something that made her laugh, and she kissed his forehead.
I wasn’t jealous, not precisely. While I didn’t like the idea of another woman’s lips anywhere near him, I knew I had nothing to worry about. She was head over heels for Enzo. The unease in the pit of my stomach had more to do with feeling like an outsider looking in.
Until our parents had started pushing for the marriage, I’d cherished my time with the Marchionnis. Besides Maria and Alessio, they were the closest thing to a real family I had. I barely saw my brothers outside of the holidays, and my father never had time for me.
Forcing a smile, I squared my shoulders, walked outside, and sat beside Marco. “After dinner, I will get you something for the pain.”
“Thanks. This will help in the meantime.” He took a sip of beer and motioned to his plate. “Are you sure you’re not hungry?”
“Not really, but it looks delicious.”
“Try a bite. It’s overcooked, but not bad.” Marco cut a piece of the meat and offered it to me.
Keeping my eyes locked on his, I leaned in and opened my mouth.
He swallowed hard and licked his lips as he fed me.
I closed my eyes and savored the flavor. Enzo might not have been the man for me, but he could cook. “It’s very good.”
“Yeah.” Marco set the plate in his lap, but not before I noticed the growing bulge in the front of his jeans.
I couldn’t help but smile. I had little practical experience with sex, but I wasn’t that ignorant. He hadn’t reacted that way to me since we’d been teenagers. I rather liked the idea I had an effect on him now that we were adults. Maybe a little flirting will get us back to normal.
He cleared his throat. “Did Shanna get you set up in a bedroom?”
“Enzo said I should take Gabe’s old room.” I hated the way my voice came out squeaky and unsure, but that’s exactly how I felt. Marco and I had never slept under the same roof without parents or bodyguards or overprotective big brothers lurking about.
“Shanna’s in my room…” A slow grin spread across his face. “It would be much easier to protect you if we shared a bed.”
“Oh.” Could I do that? Share a bed with him without any funny business? Could he?
Every reason I’d come up with to turn down his proposal flashed through my head. Then again, everything had changed when I’d walked into the mansion like a beggar. I was here with him despite the risks, despite his involvement with the mafia, despite knowing he’d break my heart.