I have him, and he knows it.
“Finch,” he sighs, and then looks at the ceiling like he’s at the end of his tether.
“It’s a power move, baby. You gotta respect me for making it.”
There’s a long pause before he admits defeat. “What time on Friday?”
“Seven for drinks. Dinner at eight. But you’d better be home by six to shower and dress for dinner. And I promised Tino we’d show him our honeymoon photos. I’ll get them printed tomorrow.”
“Fine,” he says. “Now what the hell is this can of cream for?”
“Oh, that? That’s for dessert.”
And with that, I turn and lean on the island counter, pulling my asscheeks open for him. There’s a deep silence behind me, so I glance over my shoulder and give him a sly smile.
“Come on. Cream me, baby.”
When I wake up the next morning, Luca is still there next to me, his arms around me, his nose pressed up against my shoulder.
It’s the first moment I’ve truly felt like a married man since the honeymoon.
As usual, Luca goes out to work, but not before we have breakfast together. And this time I can see his work isn’t just an excuse, like it has been for the past weeks.
I really do think he meant it, that he finds his mind keener if he keeps his distance. But that’s not good enough for me. He’ll have to find a balance. Besides, regular sex can only be a good thing, right? Keep his brain ticking over and his balls lighter?
As for me, I set about making plans for Friday night. When I bounce out the front door to see Luca off, Marco is just pulling up, and actually grins to see me.
“Naked cooking worked out okay, huh?” he asks in a low voice, while Luca is busy getting his coat.
“Never underestimate my ass.”
Luca just about runs out the door, until I grab him and make him kiss me in front of the guards and anyone else who might be watching from the streets. His cheeks color up, but he doesn’t try to push me away. I stay out onto the stoop to wave goodbye to him, and to Brother Frank, who’s picking him up. Frank gives me an enthusiastic wave back.
I turn to Marco after we watch them drive off together. Faithful Marco. Luca’s loyal dog. More importantly, my driver. “We’re gonna have a busy day today, Marco. Hope you’re ready for it.”
We hit a florist, a linen supplier, a restaurant—Tino’s favorite in the city, which makes his favorite food—one of my favorite stores to order something special for Luca, and then to the hairdresser, where I get my roots touched up by a pro. I want everything to be perfect on Friday night. I want to show Luca exactly what a good little househusband I can be—and how far we can go if we work together as a team.
Luca comes back for dinner that night as ordered—even a little earlier, and I get on my knees for him the second we’re alone.
“That was quite a welcome home,” he says breathlessly afterwards.
“I’m using positive reinforcement,” I tell him cheerfully, and laugh at his expression.
I even persuade him to take me out rather than eating at home, to a local Italian place that Marco told me has Morelli Family ties. Luca still insists on a booth in the back of the restaurant where he has a full view of the door and bathrooms, and we have not only Marco sitting across the room from us, but two more of Luca’s crew show up as well, one near the door and one near the kitchen.
Not many customers hang around once they get a view of who’s sitting in the restaurant, but I make Luca leave a sizeable tip.
“I can’t afford—” he starts.
“We can’t afford not to keep people on our side, husband. Besides, you’re Capo now, right? Earning more?”
“That doesn’t mean we have money to throw around, Finch.” But he still does as I suggested and bumps the tip up.
My husband’s attitude to money is ingrained in him. But then, mine is also ingrained in me. And now that things are looking up at home, I feel like I want to spread myself around town a little more than I have been these last few months.
“I fancy a shopping spree today, Marco,” I tell my bodyguard the next day. “I’m going to shower and get ready, and then I think we’ll pick up my sister-in-law, and drive up and down Manhattan for the day. What do you say?”
Marco grins. I guess the prospect of driving me around town is more interesting than staying in, waiting for something to happen. “Your wish is my command, Mr. D’Amato.”
It’s only after I go back upstairs to get ready that it hits me: I didn’t correct him, didn’t insist on being at Donovan, not a D’Amato. I look down at the ring that I never take off now, not even to wash my hands, on Luca’s insistence.
Maybe I really do consider myself a D’Amato now.
Chapter Thirty-Two
FINCH
Celia is fucking thrilled to hang out with her new gay BFF, and I’m fucking thrilled to have someone new to talk to. Marco is up in the front, but he’s done his best to look like a legit bodyguard today instead of a Mob heavy. All credit to him, he scrubs up well.
“Frank won’t be happy about me using up the credit card again,” Celia confides to me after our third stop. I’ve taken her to all my favorite
