Chapter Seven

Claire

I didn't unwind, not fully, that first day. Or even the first full day after that.

I think my body was just stuck in fight-or-flight, some part of me sure that Warren might come bursting through the door at any moment, despite the guard sitting in his car out front of the house, likely heavily armed, and ready to make a call for back-up, if necessary.

Judah, however, settled right in. He even napped better than he had since he was a newborn. Long and deep enough to allow me time to clean up his toys, to do some straightening up and meal-prepping.

Little by little, though, I could feel my shoulders relaxing. Each time I walked out of our room and into the main area of the house to find… no one watching us, no one making sure I was feeding Judah exactly what was allowed, no one pacing the grounds with guns, so I couldn't leave.

To an extent, I don't think I realized just how many eyes were on me until there were none.

I mean, yeah, Aurelio was around in the early mornings, and came home in the late afternoons. But it was different. He wasn't looking to judge. He was just looking.

And on more than one occasion, if I walked away to move the wash along or grab something, when I came back, Aurelio was suddenly on the floor—in his expensive suit—playing with Judah. Helping him with puzzles. Building with blocks. Running little wooden trucks along the floor.

Warren never played with Judah.

The extent of his interest in his son was dropping into the nursery a time or two a day to look at him. Maybe pat the kid's head. But never, ever, actually interacting with him.

Because, I guess, interacting with kids required a certain level of selflessness and whimsy.

Warren didn't possess either of those traits.

It was on the fifth day of living in Aurelio's home that something unexpected happened.

I was grabbing a cup of milk for Judah, part of our bedtime ritual, and I came back to the bedroom to find Judah sitting on Aurelio's chest while Aurelio read him one of his books.

I don't have the right words to explain what the sensation was then.

Like a squeezing in my chest.

Like that swirly sensation in your belly you get when driving too quickly over a hill, making your tummy bottom out for a second.

What was that?

Longing?

It sure felt like longing.

For what?

A father—a real, loving, interactive—father for Judah?

Or was it desire for Aurelio?

Or, possibly, both?

As I watched, Judah did a big yawn, then pulled his new favorite blanket up, and started to rub the edge against his nose, a telltale sign he was close to passing out.

I didn't dare interrupt.

I knew from experience that if you accidentally woke him up when he was so effortlessly putting himself to sleep, I would be up for hours rocking, singing, practically pleading with him to go to sleep.

So I just leaned in the doorway, listening to Aurelio's deep, rich, soothing voice wash over me as he continued to read.

Judah's eyes slow-blinked for a while before they shut completely, almost immediately starting to flicker as his little lips made sucking movements, something he'd still been doing since we'd gotten rid of pacifiers months ago.

Aurelio kept reading, though.

And I couldn't seem to stop my gaze from slipping to his, watching his gorgeous face as a whole for a long time, then eventually dipping to his lips, watching them form around the words as he read.

I was so focused on those lips that I didn't even notice that he'd closed the book.

And that those lips were speaking to me.

Until he called my name. "Claire?"

"Yeah?" I asked, gaze shooting up, face immediately heating, wondering if he'd noticed where my gaze had been focused.

"What are the chances I can transfer him without the drop-down waking him up?" he asked.

My lips curved up, never ceasing to be amazed by how much he knew about babies and kids, even though he didn't have any of his own.

"The trick is to shift him into your arms. And jiggle as you lower down," I told him, going over to the crib to lower the front down. "Then sometimes I even jiggle the mattress for a minute or two to make sure."

To that, he nodded as he slowly shifted Judah into his arms.

Then, to my absolute wonder, he started to hum to him as he got to his feet.

Hum.

I didn't think I'd ever heard a man hum before.

Least of all to a baby.

This time, when it coursed through me, I wasn't confused.

It was absolutely attraction.

I stood back, watching as Aurelio stood in front of the crib for a second, jiggling, humming, making sure Judah was good and out before lowering him down.

I waited on bated breath for the wail.

But it never came.

Not even as Aurelio pulled up the bars, making the crib jolt.

Turning to me, he reached out for the baby monitor, switching it on.

"Can I interest you in a drink?" he asked.

God.

I didn't even remember the last time I'd had a sip of alcohol.

It felt so indulgent. So… human. To share a drink with another adult.

"Yeah," I said, genuinely excited as I closed Judah's door with a quiet click, then followed Aurelio downstairs, trying not to marvel at how well he filled out his button-down. Or how nice of an ass he had.

What can I say? I was only human. And the man was practically sculpted from marble.

I hadn't known the touch of a man in almost three years. And that last time, well, it hadn't been good.

Not… forced. But not exactly wanted either.

At the end with Warren, intimacy had been more like an obligation, like a right he felt he had to my body, than something to be shared and mutually enjoyed.

Come to think of it, it had never really been something I particularly enjoyed with Warren.

Back in the early days, full of love-bombing and limerence, I would say there was interest. Wanting to be intimate. Even if the act itself, well, let's just say that it was never a ‘fireworks' thing for me. But it still seemed nice to be ‘close' with someone I thought I was falling madly in love with.

How naive I had been.

So, no, I wasn't surprised at the way my body was responding by being close to a gorgeous man. Especially because this one clearly had a good heart along with all that handsome.

Though, obviously, the last thing in the world I needed was to be attracted to the only man in the world who was willing to help me and my baby right now.

Not that anything was going to happen.

I mean, just because I was eye-banging him didn't mean he had the slightest interest in me.

Though, I had to admit that some small, still hopelessly romantic part of me, maybe wished he would.

The man had bought me fuzzy socks and self-care items. A soft blanket. A decadently soft robe. He hadn't just picked up what I said I needed. He'd walked around a store, thinking about things I might like. Then he'd bought them for me.

I wasn't sure I'd ever actually been something a man thought about when not around me before. At least not in a positive way.

It made my heart feel all gooey to think of Aurelio doing so.

"How do you feel about red?" he asked, waving toward his bar cabinet—up high and locked because this man was always thinking about little hands getting in places they didn't belong. "Or do you prefer mixed drinks?"

"Red sounds good," I said, giving him a smile.

I hadn't had an alcoholic drink since before Judah was born. Warren didn't like when women got ‘sloppy,' but he allowed me to have a drink with dinner.

Allowed.

God.

I can't believe it took me so long to try to leave him. That I'd been someone who let a man control things like her alcohol intake.

Objectively, I'd been young. A little awestruck by an older, attractive, very wealthy man showing interest in me.

I'd probably thought at the time that he was wiser, knew more about manners and things like that, and that was why he knew I should only have one drink. And when he'd started to control my food, I'd agreed that he knew more about nutrition than I did. Even as my soul cried out for the pasta he almost never allowed me to have, and my body started to shrink smaller and smaller.

I wondered, in my quiet moments alone when Judah was asleep, but I was too anxious to get any rest myself, if he restricted my diet because he liked me frail. Because I would be less of a threat. Easier to overpower.

I guess it said something about Aurelio's own self-assurance that he occasionally made comments about how I needed a second serving.

I wondered if he knew how true that was. Not just physically, but mentally, emotionally.

Aurelio poured us drinks in his classic long-stemmed glasses—so unlike Warren's more ‘modern' stemless ones that never quite felt right in my hand.

"It's nice out. Want to drink on the back porch?" he asked.

I hadn't stepped foot outside yet.

I knew it was pure paranoia on my part, and that I needed to work through that, but Judah seemed content to play inside with all his new toys, so I didn't feel too guilty about it.

"Sure," I agreed, figuring if there was ever a safe way to ease into the outdoors again, it was beside a mafia capo.

I followed him out of the back door and onto a sprawling wooden deck that I'd looked out at from the window anytime I was washing dishes.

He had a full conversation set to one side, the cushions tucked away in a half-hidden deck box. And to the other side was a table with six chairs.

But he led us over toward the two wooden rocking chairs instead.

"These are nice," I said, running my hand along the wood, imagining rocking Judah to sleep in it some nights. Or even for a nap after playing in the sprawling, green lawn.

"Got a mental image of sitting on them with a wife a few decades in the future, watching the grandkids run around catching fireflies," he admitted.

That was just so damn sweet.

And I really loved how willing he was to admit that he had such soft hopes for his future.

When Warren talked about the future, it was all about his "legacy" and business and typical, somewhat toxic masculine aspirations.

Aurelio was okay admitting that he wanted a family, that he wanted a long marriage to one woman, that he thought about things like watching their grandkids play in the yard where they'd raised their children.

"Really?" I asked, wanting to hear more, wanting to know about what other things he saw for himself.

To that, he shot me a warm smile.

"Always knew I wanted a family. My siblings teased the fuck out of me about it when we were kids. They didn't give a single thought to a wife and kids until they were older. I was thinking about that kinda shit when I was still a kid myself."

"That's sweet," I said.

"I guess it comes from having such a huge family. And maybe partially because my ma was always talking about how much of a blessing children were, and how much she was looking forward to having grandchildren."

"That makes sense," I agreed. Even if I had no idea what that might be like, having such a small family myself. And as I got older, the little family my mother did have just… drifted away. Until it was only ever the two of us.

"Did you always know you wanted to be a mom?" Aurelio asked.

"Honestly, I don't know," I admitted. "I think most little girls think about things like that. Their wedding. Babies. A happily ever after. But as an adult… well, I was still so young when I met Warren," I admitted. "I wasn't thinking of babies. And then… then the stick turned blue.

"I was so determined not to have Warren know. I fell off the face of the Earth during my pregnancy. I still have no idea how he even found me. But then there he was. At the hospital. Forcing me into his SUV, and dragging me to his house."

Aurelio's arm moved out, resting on my knee, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

It was meant to be chaste.

But at the contact, there was a sizzle that moved up my leg, then kind of culminated in my core, making me suddenly aware of urges, needs, that I hadn't felt in so long.

"You're a great mom," he told me. "In case you haven't heard that enough. Clearly, it was something you were meant to do."

"I did need to hear that," I admitted. Warren was full of nothing but criticism and demands for me to do and be better. "And I wouldn't mind a dozen little Judahs running around, now that I know how awesome it is having him around."

I took a sip of the wine, letting the rich, slightly sweet taste flood my tastebuds. I didn't know a single thing about wine. But I could tell that this was a good one by the way I immediately wanted another taste. Then another.

Before I knew it, the glass I planned to sip and savor was empty.

I glanced over self-consciously, but found Aurelio's glass was empty as well.

"I'm gonna go get the bottle," he said with a mischievous little grin and glint in his eye that made that strange warm sensation flush across my chest again.

I tried to tell myself it was the wine.

But I knew better as I turned to watch him walk away.

It was just… interest.

Unexpected and inappropriate, yet undeniable.

He returned with the wine, refilling my glass, and a platter of the sugar cookies he'd made too.

"I think you missed your calling, working as some big shot in a fancy restaurant somewhere," I told him, savoring one of the cookies whose sweetness immediately made my wine more tart.

Aurelio shot me a warm smile. "There's a lot of restaurants in my family," he admitted. "I've been in those kitchens. Only sadists and masochists want to work there," he told me. "I prefer cooking for pleasure instead of profit."

"I enjoy your cooking for pleasure too," I said, almost immediately wanting to suck those words back in. Until I heard Aurelio's deep, rich chuckle. "I'm going to have to go up a size by the end of the month," I added. Then, quickly, "If we're still here."

"I hope you will be," Aurelio said, sounding like he meant those words, but his gaze was focused forward on the backyard, and it was impossible for me to tell.

We'd done a fair amount of small talk over the past few days. Polite conversation over dinner since Judah wasn't exactly a conversationalist yet, focusing mostly on shoveling in handfuls of the carbs and fat he was so often denied at his father's home.

I knew about his immediate family. He was the second of five children, with only his eldest brother married and having children. Their mom, Adrian, was apparently always on the rest of their cases about giving her more grand babies.

Family dinners were a big deal. For both the immediate family and the extended one.

He was careful not to divulge important information about the workings of the mob, but I did learn about some of the hierarchy and connections, stuff I figured I could probably even figure out with an internet search.

He told me about the house when he'd first bought it—a split-level, decades in disrepair—and how much work he'd done to turn it into the beautiful home he had now, with his mind on a wife and kids. Hence the four ‘guest' rooms upstairs when he never had any sort of overnight guests.

I liked listening to him talk. And he seemed to have a never-ending source of stories, thanks to the aforementioned large family.

He asked me about myself, too, about my life before Warren. Which was, admittedly, not all that interesting. I'd still been in that ‘young, and trying to figure it out' stage. I hadn't been able to figure out what I wanted to ‘do with' my life, so I'd skipped college and went right to work at a local chiropractor's office, making enough money to pay my bills and put a little bit in savings for a rainy day, but not exactly live the high life.

That was probably why I'd been so taken with Warren and his expensive suits, fancy cars, and the exclusive restaurants he brought me to, and the jewelry he bought me.

"Did he buy you that?" Aurelio asked, gaze slipping to the cross I wore around my neck.

"No," I said, my hand going to it. "This was from my mom on my Confirmation."

I refused to wear the jewelry Warren bought me after he'd dragged me back. I loathed wearing the clothes he'd picked out for me, but having no way of getting my own, I'd needed to endure that.

"What are you thinking about?" I asked, watching Aurelio's profile as he looked off into the backyard, lit with the floodlights from the back deck.

"Wondering if that tree limb would work for a swing for Judah," he said, gesturing toward the one in question.

There was that warmth again.

Amplified this time by the second glass of wine flooding my system.

I was feeling flushed and a pleasant kind of fuzzy as I placed my glass down on the table.

"Let's see," I said, making my way down the steps and toward the tree, hearing Aurelio joining me.

I stood under it for a second, gauging the distance, then doing a small squat, and jumping upward, glad when my fingers grabbed the limb.

It wiggled a bit under my weight, but held tight.

"I think it would do," I told Aurelio as he stepped closer, something deep and gooey in his eyes that I didn't quite understand.

But it only intensified that ache in my core, that warmth rushing through my veins.

"Seems like it," he said.

Then, suddenly, his hands were lifting, grabbing me at each of my sides, over my ribs, fingers so close to my breasts that suddenly felt heavy and desperate for touch.

We were both well aware that I didn't need help down. I was only dangling a few inches off the ground.

But neither of us seemed to care about that fact as his fingers held me tight, as my fingers loosened, as I let him take my weight.

He didn't pull me right down, though, didn't just drop me onto my feet.

He pulled me closer toward him, so that my body slid against his as he lowered me down.

I swear he did it in slow motion. But maybe it was just the wine and the anticipation sizzling across my nerve endings that made it feel that way. My breasts—free of a bra because I felt too weird asking him for them when I'd given him my list—pressed against his wide, strong chest, my arms falling to my sides.

There was no stopping the little shiver that moved through me as my feet touched the ground, but I still found myself pressed tightly against him.

"Cold?" he asked, his hands moving from my ribs to my arms, chafing the skin.

"No," I admitted, my gaze holding his, finding his lids as heavy as mine felt.

"No?" he asked, head tilting to the side a bit as his gaze triangled from my eyes, lips, then back.

Did I lean in first?

Or was it his hand sliding over my shoulder to rest at the side of my neck that happened first?

I couldn't say for sure.

All I knew was that time slowed, and my heartbeat felt hard and slow, even as a that warm feeling in my veins caught fire.

Aurelio exhaled hard, the last of his restraint leaving his body, and then his lips were on mine.

Just a gentle pressure at first, waiting to see if I was going to pull away.

But as that fire caught and spread, there was no way I could deny myself the warmth.

My hands slid up his arms, over his shoulders, then wrapped around his neck, pressing my body more securely against his.

The scent of him, woodsy with a slight hint of citrus, flooded my system, mingling with the taste of wine and sugar on his lips, the combination almost overwhelming me as his lips pressed harder, as mine met his, just as needy.

Aurelio's hand slid up to the back of my neck, fingers curling in, a possessive touch that somehow didn't feel dangerous as it would have in the past, instead filling me with the sensation of safety.

A low moan escaped me as his fingers shifted into my hair, teasing across my scalp as his tongue teased between my lips, and claimed mine.

Desire pinged off every nerve ending, making my pulse beat harder, making my skin warm and my clothes feel scratchy and uncomfortable.

My breasts felt heavy, my nipples twisting into tight buds as the aching sensation in my core grew to something close to pain.

Aurelio's other hand traced down my spine, then wrapped around my lower back, crushing me against him.

I should have felt trapped.

Instead, I felt, I don't know, cherished.

His teeth gently nipped my lower lip as my fingers drifted up into his hair, loving the silky feel against my fingers even as his fingers left my hair, drifting down my neck, over my chest, starting to move downward.

I arched backward, creating the space for his hand to move between us, to slide over my breast that I was desperate to feel him brush, squeeze.

But as his hand started to move down, a wail from the back porch had us both jolting, breaking apart, as Judah's cries came through the baby monitor.

I was kiss and wine drunk for a moment, frozen in place, unable to snap out of my haze.

"I'll get him," Aurelio said, giving me a long look, then turning and making his way back into the house, leaving the monitor on the porch.

On numb legs, my sex aching with disappointed hopes, I made my way back onto the back porch, collecting the glasses, the plate of cookies, and tucking the monitor under my arm as I made my way back inside.

I was placing the cups in the sink, running some water into them so the red wine stains didn't set in, when I heard Aurelio's voice on the monitor.

"Hey, buddy," he said, voice soft. "You're alright," he said, and I could picture him going to the crib, reaching inside, and pulling Judah into his arms. "Weird to wake up in a strange place still, huh?" he asked, then let out a little grunt as, I imagined, he lowered into the chair.

There was some sniffing as Judah calmed down. Maybe I should have been upset that my son, who'd only ever been able to fully be comforted by me, was so effortlessly calming down for Aurelio.

But, honestly, I just… got it.

Aurelio just had an air about him.

A calm, quiet sort of confidence that set you at ease almost immediately.

I'd found myself trying to picture him upset or angry, even yelling, but I couldn't even imagine that.

"You're lucky you're so cute, kid," he said, making my gaze slide to the monitor. "Because you have the worst timing in the world."

My mouth curved into a smile as I stood there in the kitchen, my lips still sensitive from his, my skin burning a bit from the brush of his stubble, still aching all over for his touch.

As he started to hum, I turned off the monitor, then made my way upstairs, stepping into the room.

"Want me to take him?" I whispered.

Aurelio continued to hum, and just shook his head at me.

Maybe I should have walked out, left him alone to comfort Judah, to give me a break.

But for some reason, I found myself climbing onto my bed instead, pulling up the soft blanket he'd bought for me, and listening to him hum my son back to sleep.

Somehow, the sound seemed to lull me as well, and before I knew it, I was starting to drift to sleep.

I wasn't aware of him lowering Judah back into his crib, of him pulling up the bars.

But I did stir enough as he pulled my blanket more fully up over me that I was fully aware of his lips when they softly pressed into my temple before he made his way out of the room, closing the door quietly.

Alone, I rolled onto my back, staring up at the darkened ceiling, wondering if it was possible for me to trust myself and my instincts anymore.

You were always too willing to believe the best in people, Claire-Bear, I could practically hear my mother whisper in my ear.

Maybe.

But I swear to God, I was sure that Aurelio was someone a woman could trust.

That I could trust.

After a lifetime of bad decisions with men, I was almost certain that my instincts were right about this one.