Present Day—Charlotte, North Carolina
“How does it feel to be twenty-nine and a single mom?”
“Jeez, Ma. You could’ve at least opened up by wishing me a happy birthday first.” I turned to locate my favorite bartender, Christian, needing a drink to get through this conversation.
My sister and her husband, Ryan Rossi, threw me this surprise birthday party at her restaurant, Talia’s Tuscan Grill. Almost two years ago, my sister’s hard work paid off—she opened her own restaurant, and I was so damn proud of her.
There was no place I’d rather spend my birthday. Of course, the place was crowded with a bunch of people I either didn’t know or wouldn’t trust with a single secret of mine. But if a big, flashy party made my sister happy, I’d smile and make small talk with everyone.
Glancing down at the other end of the bar, I saw three of my old high school friends clamoring for more than just Christian’s cocktail skills. So much for making sure the birthday girl never has an empty glass.
“You know how we feel about divorce.” Mom dropped another not-so-stellar comment on me. Wrapping a hand over my shoulder, she urged me to face her. “We’re Catholic. Your father and I think—”
“What, that I should’ve stayed with Thomas even though he slept with other women?” I finally whirled around, giving up hope on that drink. “Cheating is a sin, Ma. I’m pretty sure that’s still frowned upon at the church.” I loved her to death, but she needed to let go and stop trying to run my life.
“You didn’t let me finish.” She dropped a dramatic sigh on me. “I was going to say that your father and I believe in the sanctity of marriage unless your husband is a cheating asshole.” She frowned at her accidental slip of a swear word. “Thomas was never right for you, and it was my fault I pushed you to marry him. I steered Natalia the wrong way in the past, too.” She showed me her palms as if in surrender. “You should celebrate being single at twenty-nine and enjoy your life. You know, meet new people, date a little. Maybe try some dating sites.”
“What?” I fake-laughed. “So I can get asked by a dozen different men my favorite color? No thank you.”
“Well, I promise I’m going to do my best not to play matchmaker anymore.”
My eyes widened in mock horror. Reaching for her, I joked, “Who are you, and what have you done with my mother?”
She chuckled. “I’m trying to change, my dear daughter.” Her Italian accent I loved still clung to her words. “But change takes time.”
Speaking of change. I looked around the crowded bar area, searching for one of the few people I did want to talk to, but I didn’t see Enzo anywhere.
“Maybe not with Enzo, though.”
“What?” I whipped my attention back to her.
“Don’t ‘enjoy’ yourself with Enzo, if you catch my drift. I see the way you look at him. He’s not good for you.”
Ugh, her and the air quotes. What was with everyone trying to warn me away from Enzo?
And great, now my head was back in the past, and my sister’s words to refrain from falling for a Costa echoed all around me. I could also see vividly the girl I once was, the one who’d ignored Natalia’s warning, standing in Hudson’s office with her whiskey-stained shirt, swollen lips, and a semishattered heart.
“Don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful for everything he’s done for your sister.” The beginning of Mom’s lecture brought me back to the uncomfortable present, and she snatched her Moscato from the counter.
I painted on a fake smile and bit down on my back teeth to keep my mouth glued shut.
“I’m glad he was able to move here to help her with the restaurant, because he’s a phenomenal chef, and talent like that shouldn’t be wasted. I know his mother’s happy he’s turned over a new leaf while living in Charlotte, but . . .” Her hesitant pause was textbook dramatic from her.
I decided to let her unfinished sentence hang in the air while I once again flipped through the pages of my mind, landing on more recent memories, ones Enzo also owned.
To be honest, I’d been a bit shocked a man like Enzo would truly give up his fancy life and the money that came with it in New York to run my sister’s kitchen. Of course, I hadn’t exactly kept up with his life since our one and only hot moment. When he’d arrived in town two years ago, it’d been the first time I’d seen him since New York on my twenty-third birthday.
It’d also felt like time had stood still when our eyes met, and a rush of energy had moved through the room and slammed into me. I’d heard only the erratic beating of my heart as his eyes journeyed over my pregnant stomach.
And then he’d offered his hand as if we were two strangers who’d never shared a kiss, and I’d nearly vomited.
From that point on, I’d decided if he wanted to act like nothing ever happened, then so be it, and so would I. Plus, I’d been married and pregnant, so it made sense to erase that hot memory from my mind as if it were only an Etch A Sketch drawing.
“Maria, are you even listening to what I’m saying?” Mom snapped her fingers, trying to shake me free from my internal monologue. I swear, in another life I’d be a character in a book or movie and not a living, breathing person.
“You think I don’t know why you wouldn’t let me invite the Costa family to your wedding to Thomas?” This wasn’t a question she expected me to answer, so I continued to keep my mouth shut. “Your taste in men is like mine. Well, before I met your father, at least. I do know you, and that’s why I’ve done my best to ensure you avoid the same mistakes I made.”
I had to say, I didn’t see that coming.
“I thought men like Thomas were the safer option for you. I was wrong, but I was just trying to protect you.”
I’d never wanted safe when I was younger, I’d wanted the kind of love that was all-consuming. But my search for it had led me to Enzo . . . and he hadn’t wanted me. So I gave up on the idea of a book boyfriend materializing in real life to give me a happily-ever-after, and I gave in to Mom.
Not-so-spoiler alert, her picks were all wrong for me. So wrong that, as of two weeks ago, my ex and I had officially divorced after a nine-month separation. In North Carolina, we were supposed to be apart for a year before the paperwork could be finalized. For whatever reason, Thomas finally had a change of heart and confessed the truth to the lawyers and judge about his infidelity. And now I was a free woman earlier than expected.
The crazy thing? Even to this day, Thomas still blamed Enzo for our marriage failing, not the fact he cheated.
“Ever since that man moved to Charlotte, you’ve changed. Hell, you’re probably fucking him at your sister’s restaurant,” he’d yelled during our blowout fight last November after I’d confessed he’d pocket-dialed me while he’d been out of town and having sex with another woman.
“I stopped loving you long before he came here. And I’m wondering if maybe we never actually loved each other at all.” I’d snapped back the ugly truth I’d been hiding from everyone, including myself.
But had I cheated? Not once. I may have been unhappy, but I’d been faithful.
Never crossed any lines. No late-night texts with Enzo, or anyone for that matter. Nope, I’d been a loyal and faithful wife.
“Before your father, I was attracted to the bad boys,” Mom revealed; then she turned to the side, putting eyes on my dad as he bounced my daughter, Chiara, on his knee at a corner booth. He cupped the back of her curly-haired head and then nuzzled her ear with his nose, which had her giggling.
“So you’re saying you always set me up with guys who preferred golfing and checking their stock portfolios to—”
“Tall, dark-haired men with tattoos who would ruin your life.”
“Easy with the stereotypes, Ma.” Damn. “I take it someone with tattoos broke your heart?”
“Maybe,” she said, and the somber look in her eyes told me she might still be mourning the loss of a relationship from more than three decades ago. “I’m not just thinking about you,” she went on. “Chiara adores Enzo. And what if he gets bored with Charlotte and leaves? He’ll break two hearts, not just one.”
Yeah, that reminder poked a hole in my heart. It was hard to believe my daughter was eighteen months old, and Enzo had been in her life since birth. The supposedly “dangerous man” was a baby whisperer, too.
“We’re only friends.” I hadn’t meant to follow that with a sigh of disappointment. “It’d be hard on all of us if he were to up and leave, Natalia especially.”
Enzo and I were still not as close as he and my sister were, but he’d never stuck his tongue in her mouth, and I had a feeling he’d kept his distance from me on purpose. Although I wasn’t quite sure why, since I had to assume he’d forgotten about our kiss.
“It’s not just that. What if this ‘new leaf’ is temporary? What if he becomes the man he was back in New York?” she pressed.
“You know, you’re making a poor case for yourself in the whole change department. If you think he can’t change for good, why should I believe you’ll stop meddling in my love life?” I rolled my eyes. “Case in point, this entire conversation.”
Mom set down her glass, then nervously ran her hands through her chestnut-brown hair, which had streaks of silver and gray at the temples.
“Everything okay over here?” I flinched at the deep voice behind me, then relaxed realizing it was my brother-in-law. He must’ve picked up on the tension-filled bubble surrounding my mother and me from across the bar.
Facing Ryan, mild panic on my face, I mouthed, “Help me.”
“Natalia needs Maria in the kitchen. Mind if I steal her away?” He offered his hand to help me stand.
“Sure, but aren’t we singing and cutting the cake soon? Can’t have the birthday girl miss that. Plus, Chiara will want to help you blow out the candles,” Mom said, pointing to her granddaughter.
“Of course. This should only take a minute or two.” Ryan tapped my back twice like a signal to hurry and escape.
“Thank you,” I said once in the back hallway. “You’re officially my hero.” And Ryan really was a hero. He’d served as a Navy SEAL for twenty years, only retiring because it’d been medically necessary. His family had been our next-door neighbors growing up, and now he was happily married to my sister.
It still struck me as strange that Natalia had started seeing Ryan at all, since she’d first dated his brother. Anthony had been all wrong for her. A cheater, too. Mom was to blame for that relationship, of course.
Ryan, though, was far from a bad guy. He’d kept his feelings hidden from my sister for more than a decade, doing his best never to cross any lines even when she was single. Then fate brought them back together.
“Does Natalia really need me?” I asked as he pushed open the kitchen door, and my heart went to my throat at the sight of Enzo. He had his back to me while talking to my sister. His black chef’s coat was on, as if he’d been busy in the kitchen even though we were closed tonight for the party and Natalia had hired someone else to cater so no one had to work.
“She does,” Ryan replied as Natalia peeked around Enzo, smiled, and waved me over. “Hey, you. How are you holding up?” He went to Natalia and took a knee before her and kissed my sister’s pregnant belly before rising to his full height of six-two.
He had stars in his eyes for my sister, acting like he hadn’t just seen her and their unborn son five minutes ago, and I freaking loved it.
Natalia smoothed her hand over her abdomen and winced as if she’d been jabbed in the ribs. Her son was as active at six months as Chiara had been in my belly back in the day. “I wanted to show you the cake before we brought it out. Enzo and I collaborated to come up with something special.”
“Oh?” I looked around but didn’t see anything.
Enzo finally faced me, and his eyes combed over my pink-and-white sundress. He took me in inch by inch, and goose bumps scattered over my bare arms. “I’ll get it.” He headed for one of the industrial refrigerators on the other side of the kitchen, and I couldn’t take my eyes off his tall, muscular body as he sauntered away.
A tall, dark-haired “heartbreaker” inked in tattoos.
“You look pale. You okay?” Natalia stepped forward and set the back of her hand to my cheek as if checking for a fever.
“Mom was just being Mom, and you know how that goes.” I sighed, and Natalia pulled her hand back and exchanged a quick look with Ryan. He shrugged, as if not too optimistic Mom would ever truly change, either.
But people do change, right? Maybe not Mom, though.
My gaze switched to Enzo as he pushed a rolling cart in our direction with the sheet cake on top of it.
“What do you think?” Natalia beamed and stepped away from her husband to hook her arm through mine.
I forced my attention up to the other side of the cart where Enzo stood, hands in his pockets, eyes focused on me. “It was your sister’s idea. I can’t take credit.”
“He’s being humble.” Natalia elbowed me. “What do you think? You’re not talking.”
I studied the large sheet cake, which had a bookshelf painted on it in frosting. There were books on each shelf with printed titles on the spines.
“Twenty-nine books for your birthday,” Natalia continued, since I was still searching for words. “I went through your bookshelf at home. I figured whichever were the most worn were your favorites, so those are the titles I chose. Plus a few throwbacks I remembered you reading as a kid.”
“It’s incredible,” I whispered. “Thank you.” The Hunger Games was on the top shelf. And I was back in Hudson’s office again, remembering when I’d channeled my inner Katniss to face off with the man before me now. “I’m . . .” Going to cry. On the middle shelf there was a Baby-sitters Club book, a reminder of Bianca. She’d introduced me to that series one weekend in the Hamptons when I was ten.
“Could we have a minute?” Enzo’s rumbly voice had me looking up at him, tears brimming in my eyes; had he read my mind? Did he know I was thinking about his twin?
“Yeah. Just roll the cart out when you’re ready so we can sing. I’m sure everyone is excitedly waiting.” Natalia smiled, and Ryan took her hand as they left.
My gaze moved to Enzo’s fingers as he deftly worked to undo each button of his chef’s coat. He tossed the coat onto the counter, and his plain black tee showcased his strong arms and the ink my mom equated with being dangerous to my heart. It was like a clash of good and evil wrapped around his forearms in ink. From rosary beads on the inside of his one arm to skulls, a sword, and other themes of death being swallowed by flames on the other.
I followed his one arm up as his hand dove into his dark hair. It must’ve had gel in it, because the imperfectly messy look he always had going for him returned to its original place after his hand left his thick locks.
I tipped my head, anxious for him to share his thoughts. “You okay?” But the touch of chaos in his eyes staring back at me had me nervously blurting, “Are you considering offering me another birthday kiss?”
His smooth jaw clenched at my words. I was used to seeing him with facial hair, but he’d shaved the other day, and he was one of the few men who looked hot with or without facial hair.
I held a palm up between us. “Relax, Enzo, I was kidding.”
His hand fell somehow gracefully to his side as he asked, “You never told Natalia about that kiss, did you?”
Wait, what? “No, I didn’t.” I shook my head in surprise. “You remember the kiss?”
His disarming smile caught me off guard as he studied me. “You think there’s a chance on God’s green earth, in the oceans, or the heavens above that I’d ever forget that night?”
I blinked in surprise at not only his revelation but the way he’d so eloquently delivered the unexpected words. Bianca had been the writer, but maybe he’d always had a way with words, too, even if he’d never admit it. “So,” I said around a swallow, “you remember.”
He tapped his temple. “It lives rent-fucking-free in my head, Maria. Probably burned into the forefront of my mind for all of eternity. So yeah, I guess you can say I remember.”
Taking a step back, I bumped into the rolling cart, stunned into silence.
“But I wanted to talk to you about something, and I’m not sure if you’ll want to slap me or, well, kiss me for it.” He held his palms between us as if to say, Up to you.
“Slap or kiss?” My heartbeat ramped up at the options. “What is it?”
With a contemplative look, he stroked his jawline as if forgetting it was smooth. “The reason why Thomas finally admitted he cheated was because of me.”
Ah, shit. My shoulders fell at the news, and I spun away while I grappled with the information.
I flinched as his strong hands came down over my shoulders and lightly gripped them. Okay, maybe there were a few goose bumps on my skin at his touch, too. Especially because his mouth was at my ear when he said, “I’ve seen your pain. Your frustration. I’ve heard you telling Natalia how much you want to be free of him for good, and I waited too long to make it happen. I should’ve forced him to confess sooner.”
“And you promised not to get involved.” I reached back and patted one of his hands, a request to let me go. He backed away, and I took a moment to process everything before facing him. “You broke your word to me.”
His head was bowed, hands on the rolling cart alongside the cake. His broad shoulders relaxed forward.
“Thomas already hates you. But like it or not, he’s in my life because of shared custody.” I lifted my eyes to the ceiling, trying to prevent the tears from falling. There’d probably be twenty-nine of them, too. “I don’t want him making things worse for us. We’re friends. Colleagues. Next-door neighbors.”
“And you think I fear him?” he asked once our eyes met again.
“I know you don’t fear him, but what if he—”
“If that man ever hurt you or Chiara, there’d be no mercy, Maria. No fucking mercy, and you have to know that.” That harsh tone of his had chills rolling over my heated skin.
He straightened to his full height of six-three and rounded the cart to stand before me. “He lost you. Lost his perfect family because he’s a fucking idiota, Maria. And the least he could do was be honest so you could get out of that marriage quicker. I couldn’t take seeing you in pain anymore, knowing you wanted to be free of him.”
While he stood tall, my shoulders shrank. I wanted to cover my face and hide from this man. A man who made me feel so many different emotions all the time, and I couldn’t always make sense of them.
After my split with Thomas, I’d ridiculously hoped one day Enzo and I might have a second chance now that he lived in Charlotte and had swapped his suit for a chef’s coat. “And is that what you wanted? Did you want me to be single?”
“I just want you to be happy. You’re my friend, and I care about you.”
Friend. I let go of a flustered breath, and he circled my forearm, unexpectedly drawing me closer. Swallowing my personal space. Something a friend wouldn’t do. “The second I left him last year, you moved me into the apartment next to yours, and—”
“Yeah, to watch out for you and Chiara. To keep you safe.”
“And did you force your neighbor to move out so I could move in the same way you forced Thomas to confess about the cheating?”
I’d been living next to Enzo in the city since the separation, only five minutes away from the home I’d shared with Thomas. Part of the agreement with Thomas was that I live nearby with our daughter.
Enzo happened to already be living in the area, and when he’d mentioned the place next to his was available, it seemed too good to be true. But it hadn’t been fate, it’d been grade-A Enzo interference. He was about as frustrating when it came to my safety as my mother was regarding my love life.
“I’m just trying to protect you,” was all the stubborn man would give me. Not a shocker.
“From what? Going down dark halls with strange men?” It was a joke, but he didn’t seem to find me funny.
“If I have to, yes.” He let go of my wrist but didn’t back away. No, he was still so close it wouldn’t take much for him to give me yet another birthday kiss. “Listen, I don’t want to fight on your birthday.”
“Then you should’ve waited until tomorrow to confess your guilt.”
“I’m so sorry, Maria,” he rasped. “You’re right. I suppose I owe you a birthday do-over.”
The sudden distressed look of his hurt my heart, so I admitted, “I’m relieved to be divorced earlier than expected.” And of course that was the truth. “I just don’t want Thomas causing any more problems for anyone because of whatever you did to convince him.” No bruises on Thomas’s face recently, so that was a good sign. I didn’t think Enzo would hurt Chiara’s father even if he wanted to, though. “I know he’s not a threat to you because you’re . . . you. I don’t know. Thank you, I guess?”
I nervously threaded my fingers together, wondering if I ought to tell him something that’d been on my mind ever since I’d signed the divorce papers. We were already having an uncomfortable conversation, why not make it worse?
“What is it?” he asked, reading my thoughts.
“I’m going to start dating again in the near future,” I shared. “At the very least, I need rebound sex.” Damn my lack of filter. But hell, since I’d dug the hole, why not bury myself? “I’ve only ever been with Thomas, and I—”
“He took your virginity? He was the only one you . . .” His fingers dove into his hair as he turned toward the cake.
“It could’ve been you.” And I’d lost count of the number of times I’d wished it had been after that hot kiss in New York. “You had rules, though.”
He whirled around as if I’d insulted him. Pointing toward the floor, his gaze harsh and nearly cutting, he hissed, “If you’d been with me, you’d never have had sex with anyone else after, that I can assure you.”
“You said you’d break my heart,” I reminded him, and he prowled my way in two quick steps and gently snatched my chin.
“Do you really think if we’d slept together, I would’ve been able to walk away from you?” He didn’t give me a chance to respond before sharing, “But I wasn’t lying about being bad for you, and then you would’ve been stuck in hell with me, and I couldn’t do that to you and . . .”
Another unfinished thought. More secrets he wouldn’t reveal to me. And I was tired of it.
“Chiara,” I whispered while closing my eyes, and he released me. “She wouldn’t exist, either, and as much as I hate the choices I’ve made, those decisions gave me her.” A tear slipped down my face, and I startled at the feel of the pad of his thumb swiping along my cheek.
“I hate that man.” His rumbly tone softened when he added, “But I love her.”
My chest tightened at how easily he’d admitted his love for my daughter, but I wasn’t ready to look him in the eyes as I worked up the nerve to ask, “And me? Do you think you could ever feel anything for me?”
“What makes you think I didn’t feel something for you while you were married?” he murmured.
I forced open my eyes. “I don’t understand. For the last two years, I didn’t think you even remembered our kiss, let alone felt anything for me.”
“Maria.” He hung his head, robbing me of the view of his gorgeous deep-brown eyes. “You were married, what’d you want me to do? I promised your father I’d protect you, that includes not breaking up your marriage.”
And I was thankful for that. Respected him for it. “And what about now? I’ve been separated since last November, and you haven’t made a single move. Don’t tell me you were trying to give me time to process the divorce. I won’t believe you.”
He looked up and reached for me, brushing the pad of his thumb across the line of my lips, and my tongue peeked out. He went still when our eyes locked. “As much as I want to stand here and tell you I’m not the same man I was from that bar six years ago, I can’t.” He frowned and pulled his thumb away. “Don’t let the chef’s coat fool you. I still carry my past with me every day like a fucking shadow. So no, the same holds true as it did six years ago. I can’t ever have what I want,” he said in a solemn tone.
“But you want me?” My body was as frail as my voice right now, and I hated it.
He lifted his eyes to the ceiling and said, “The best I can do is protect you and Chiara the only way I know how.”
“And you won’t let me judge your past for myself? What if I’m okay with whatever you’re keeping from me?” I could hear the panic rising in my voice.
“You won’t be,” he said without looking at me.
“My sister knows, right? She’d never let you near me if she thought you were dangerous, though.”
“Natalia doesn’t know everything, trust me.” He stole a look at the cake, and I couldn’t help but wonder if he was remembering Bianca and her love of reading. Some of my books back home had once belonged to her, and I planned to give those childhood favorites to Chiara one day.
“I hoped one day we’d . . .” Why waste my words? “If you truly think there’s no chance for us, I don’t see how I can live next door to you anymore. I should move out when the lease is up in November.”
“No.” Enzo abruptly reached for my hand and threaded our fingers together, tugging me his way, and I nearly crashed into his chest. “You can’t leave.”
“How am I supposed to move on with my life? Date again when what I want is on the other side of the apartment wall?”
That look of chaos returned to his eyes, and now I recognized it as something other than anger. An internal battle of restraint.
Tipping my head toward the rolling cart, I whispered, “Enzo . . . you can’t have your cake and eat it, too.” His silence only emboldened me, had me feeling the need to stand up for myself. “Promise me you won’t give any man I date the third degree, then. Look me in the eyes and tell me you won’t stare them down when they show up on my doorstep.”
His gaze flicked to the floor between us for a few agonizing seconds. “I can only promise I won’t kill any of them.” His eyes returned to my face, and the dark expression there had me swallowing as he added, “Unless, of course, it’s to keep you safe.”
