Exhaling: A Mafia Romance (The O'Keefe Family Collection Book 3) (4 page)

V
ince clenched
his fists over and over, willing the tension to release after Declan left. He wanted to go after the brother who had almost wrecked the best thing in his life, but for Fallyn’s sake, he remained in place. “You let him off too easy, Fal. He’s just going to come back with another way to break us up.”

Fallyn washed her hands up to her elbows to ensure the cleaning solutions were gone from her skin. She took Vince’s hand and walked to her office, shutting the two of them inside when her bakers came back from their breaks, and the kitchen started humming with life again. Pulling out a stack of resumes, she sorted through them with half her attention as he sat across from her. “I know when Declan’s lying to me, and he was telling the truth. He really is sorry.”

Vince pursed his lips, buying him three whole seconds before he spoke in elongated words that stretched into whole sentences. “I. Don’t. Care. If he’s. Sorry.” He smacked his fist down onto his thigh. “I want him out. Out of your life, out of my life. Out!”

Fallyn leafed through the resumes. “I want a unicorn. Which one of us do you think has better odds of getting what we want? I think it might be a draw.”

“Take this seriously!” Vince shouted.

Fallyn put her papers down slowly, her eyes climbing up to reveal a deadly glare. “Are you yelling at me?” she asked in quiet warning. “I don’t think you want to be yelling at me.”

Vince stood, running his hands through his hair and touching his gun out of need. “I’m sorry. He took you away from me, Fal. I have every right to want him gone.”

“Of course. But he’s my brother. You have to let me handle my family. Declan’s your brother now, too. If Tony was causing this many problems, you wouldn’t draw your weapon on him.”

“The O’Keefe brats are not my brothers,” he seethed, touching his middle finger to his lips as he tried to think up a way to distance them from the O’Keefes without bloodshed.

Fallyn’s shoulders fell. “Don’t do this. They’re already pulling at me. Don’t you start, too. It’ll tear me in half, and all you’ll both get is me broken. Is that what you want?”

It went against everything he wanted to do in that moment, but Vince found his aggression doing its best to evaporate. He wasn’t sure when it happened that he bent to Fallyn’s will so easily, but as he calmed and quieted, he realized just how great his love for her was. “Alright. I don’t agree with you, but it is what it is. Do me a solid and keep them away from me for a while, though. My self-control isn’t all that great with them.” He watched her pick her resumes back up, reading through the top page briefly before throwing it in the trash. “What was wrong with that one?”

“Doesn’t know the difference between ‘there’ and ‘their’. I don’t want that kind of nonsense near a stove.”

He found his first hint of a smile and began to relax in his chair, leaning back in it and crossing his ankle over his knee as he observed her. “That’s an interesting little system you’ve got there.” He smirked at her, amused by her as much as he was attracted. “You couldn’t tell because I didn’t write it out, but in my head, I just spelled that t-h-e-i-r.”

Fallyn giggled silently, grateful he made a joke. “Then I guess you won’t be getting a job filling all the orders for Cesca’s.”

“Can you bring me home one of your cannolis tonight? I miss Italy, and your cannolis are pretty close.”

“Sure, baby. Extra cayenne in your caramel sauce?” She flashed him a wicked grin just to tease him.

“I don’t know how you made that taste good, but you were right. It adds an edge that makes something classic taste like it’s a brand new thing.” Vince waited a few beats before speaking the heavier things that were weighing on him. “Are we going to talk about the fact that you don’t know who your father is?”

“No.”

“Just like that? Bomb dropped on your head, and you’re not curious? What if you need a kidney someday?”

“I’ll just drug you, put your body on ice and cut yours out. What’s yours is mine. That’s what true love’s for, right?”

Vince raised his eyebrow at her. “You sure had that answer locked and loaded.”

“I’ve got a plan B, if you’d rather hear the bloodier version of what I’d do to get a kidney from you.”

“Seriously, Fal. Any guesses on the dad thing?”

Fallyn shrugged. “Well, up until two weeks ago, I thought my father was my father, even though he’s been on repeat telling me that he’s most certainly not. I want to go over to his house and take a hair sample. Do a DNA test just to be sure.”

“You
do
think Declan was lying, then.” Vince gave her a superior look.

“No. But it’s possible for a couple who’s split up to sleep together even though they’re broken up. I could still be Daddy’s.” She leaned her elbows on the desk and rested her forehead in her hands. “Man, this sucks!”

Vince watched his wife struggle between breaking down and muscling through. He counted to five before he lost his cool, moving to her side of the desk and pulling her up to hold her. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe you’ll do the test, and we’ll find out Patrick’s your dad. Nothing’s changed. Nothing’s different. Let’s not lose it until we find out for sure.”

“What if he’s not my dad? Then what?” She sagged against him as she ran a mental tally of the population in their city. “It could be anyone. I’ll never meet him. I’ll never know who my real dad is, then.”

Knowing this was a big moment for their relationship, Vince treated the tilt of their boat with careful hands. “No matter what, Patrick’s the man who raised you. Even if the DNA says different, Patrick’s your dad.”

“I know that, but Vince, Daddy doesn’t know who I am,” Fallyn whispered, bunching the front of his white dress shirt in her hand. “I almost wish I could have a dad who did, even if he’d only just be meeting me.”

Vince swayed from side to side, accepting the fact that there was nothing he could say that might put order to this chaos. He rubbed her back, wishing he could whisk her back to Italy, where they drank wine and ate olives with fresh bread and cheese. He stiffened. “You drank wine in Italy. We had lots of wine!”

Fallyn snorted. “That’s where your mind’s been?”

“Sorry. It just dawned on me that we drank wine for a month straight! That can’t be good. I mean, you were pregnant!”

“There’s nothing for it now.” Fallyn shrugged. “Your family’s vineyard is amazing. Tell me you have a stash of that stuff back at our house. I want more of the sweet red you gave me. That’s after this baby comes out, of course.”

Vince gripped her closer, the swelling of his heart distracting from the sudden upset. “You called it ‘our’ house. You think of it as ours, not just the place you’re crashing at.”

“Shouldn’t I? I mean, if not, then Angelo’s going to be pissed he moved all my stuff in for no reason.”

“I love you.” Then Vince shook his head, refocusing. “You drank wine in Italy, but you were probably pregnant then! Maybe a few weeks pregnant, even.” He released her and picked up her purse. “Let’s go. I’m taking you to the doctor right now.”

Fallyn sighed. “How much of a chance do I have of talking you down from freaking out?”

“Oh, honey. If you think this is as bad as I get, you’re in for a real surprise. This is me holding back the crazy. We’re still newlyweds, after all. Thought I’d ease you in slowly to how much I love you.”

Fallyn slid her hand along the edge of her desk with a coy smile. “Would our clothes in a pile on the floor over there do anything to ease your panic? We haven’t broken in my office, you know.”

Vince groaned, but remained firm, looking at the desk with longing. “No. Doctor first, then that exact thing right there.”

“Seriously? I’m fine, Vince.” Fallyn gave him a look of exasperation, but permitted him to take her hand and lead her out to his car, where he took her to the doctor to assuage his alarm.

F
allyn smiled
at Vince’s sallow expression when she stepped out of the shower that afternoon. “I think you’re missing the part where the doctor said that everything was looking okay.”

Vince wrapped the thick, soft towel around her, surrounding her in the pure white terrycloth cloud. “I think you’re missing the part where he told you to rest, that your blood pressure was higher than it should be, and that you needed to lay down with your feet elevated if you’ve been working during the day.”

“I barely worked at all. I swear, a little cleaning and you’d think I was freaking Cinderella. It’s my bakery, Vince.”

He met her gaze with unswerving steel. “It’s our baby, Fallyn.”

She wanted to resist his coddling, but softened when she saw the genuine worry etched on his handsome face that only she could make laugh. She decided her pride wasn’t worth more than his peace of mind. “Okay. You’re right. I can let Loretta handle the store. I’ll just do the clerical stuff and a little baking when they fall behind.”

“How about just the clerical stuff until the doctor tells us your blood pressure’s back to normal?”

“I guess that’s fair,” Fallyn answered glumly.

He dried her face with the edge of the towel. “Don’t think I didn’t hear him say that stress has a lot to do with higher blood pressure.”

“I was hoping that would’ve slipped past you. Look, it’s a stressful time no matter how you slice it.”

“Nothing a night in bed with your feet propped up won’t cure. Can I interest you in some water?” he asked, his nose in the air like a snooty waiter. “Or perhaps some water? Maybe a nice glass of water to go with your water?”

“I get it. I’m supposed to drink more water.” Fallyn searched through the drawer to the left of the bathroom sink that had been cleared out for her, retrieving her hairbrush and running it through her tangles. “You can go back to work, Vince. I appreciate everything, really, but I know you have stuff to do.”

“Joey’s handling the bulk of it. I’ll get back to everything tomorrow. It’s important you rest.”

“It’s important your businesses don’t go under.”

“Behold, the magic of remote communication.” He pulled out his phone to show her his tool of attack. “Come lie down.” Vince led his wife to their bed, biting his lower lip when she removed her towel and slid a satin nightgown over her head. The blush material fell to the middle of her thighs, revealing the sensual curves in her calves. He slid a pillow under her legs, rubbing her feet and kissing her ankles while she settled into the mattress.

Vince thought back on all the times he’d shared a bed with Maria, knowing he’d never massaged her feet before. Fallyn was precious to him, and he was determined she should be treated with care. As he watched her eyes roll back at the luxury of the massage, he knew any chance of him maintaining a stoic demeanor around her was lost forever. She owned him, and despite his firm grip on independence, he relished the idea of being owned by someone as kind and clever as Fallyn.

Fallyn sat halfway up, leaning back on her elbows. “What are you looking at me like that for? Is something wrong? You look like you’re getting choked up. Are you okay?”

A smile replaced the reverent look he had for her. “Just thinking about how much I love you. I know I’m being an overprotective pest. Thanks for humoring me and taking your schedule down a notch. I’m not used to getting this upset over things I can’t shoot. That missing week and a half really messed with me.”

“Come here.” Fallyn waved him toward her, smirking when he lay atop her, bracing himself so he didn’t put his full weight on her much smaller form. She brought his head to her bosom and raked her fingers through his hair. “You’re the one who needs the rest.” She tugged his shirts over his head so she could brush her fingernails across his bare back, smiling at the goosebumps that broke out over his skin. “This isn’t good for you – all this worry.”

“Fallyn, you’re supposed to be resting.” The protest was weak, and it muted completely once Fallyn worked the rest of his clothes off. She spent the next hour exciting and relaxing her husband until he was utterly spent. “Thanks, babe. I think I needed that.”

Fallyn kissed his lips with the light elegance of a butterfly’s wing. “Take a nap. Enjoy it.”

Vince dozed off with his hand across his toned stomach and his arm wrapped around his treasure, lest anyone snatch it away.

Fallyn watched the steady up and down of her husband’s chest for several minutes, drawing pleasure and peace from his complete relaxation. She pulled the comforter up over him and tucked him in, too awake to nap in the middle of the day.

Fallyn dressed and set about acquainting herself with the house. Though it was her address, she had not spent much time in the abode since she had been a child. She wandered through the upstairs in her fitted jeans and cozy pink sweater, smiling to herself at the strange twists her life had taken. She would never have guessed a mere year ago that she would end up married to Vince D’Amato, pregnant and living in his home in the western territory, estranged from her brothers. Her smile faltered on that last note, but she continued on exploring the house.

Joey’s bedroom had been turned into a guest room. Tony’s had been turned into an office. Vince’s childhood bedroom was a secondary office. She stepped inside, wondering what one might need an additional office for.

Upon entering, she recalled crawling under Vince’s bed when she’d played hide-and-go-seek with Joey two decades ago. The bed was gone, but Vince’s scent was still there. The desk and chair sat alone in the room with a large safe tucked in the closet. The beige walls had been a light green when Vince had been a teenager, and the carpet had since been replaced with a blush color that Fallyn knew her father had picked for certain rooms in their own house because the color concealed blood better than most.

Fallyn leaned over the desk, expecting to find invoices for purchase orders and receipts for his many businesses. Upon taking in the names of the stores on the pages, along with instructions scribbled on the amount of debt owed him, Fallyn backed out of the room, knowing this was the backend of the operation she wanted no knowledge of. Since the drug trade dried up and was forced out, Vince had been doing his best to maintain the businesses that used to run off of backdoor drug deals. His goal was to make them more legitimate and be able to run without the cushion of cocaine. Some were further along than others, and Fallyn didn’t want to know which were above board and which were far, far below.

Fallyn padded down the carpeted steps in her bare feet, stopping to stare at a reprint of a painting she’d always loved growing up. The blue and yellow swirls drew her in, looking chaotic, yet bestowing a sense of calm. The gold frame was lavish, as had been Papa D’s way. He made everything a grand event. Making pasta had been done to Italian opera while he danced Mama Antonia around the kitchen, making her and Fallyn laugh together. Fallyn touched the locket around her neck, not sure if it was acceptable to feel a small sense of strange loss that Papa D had not been her father, and that it was most likely some stranger.

She fished her phone out of her purse and plugged it into the stereo in the kitchen, poking at buttons until she was certain the music wouldn’t flow into the other rooms. She knew Vince needed to rest.

Fallyn reasoned that the house was not truly hers until she’d made a mess in the kitchen, so she set about cooking dinner for her and Vince. Since it was only three o’clock, Fallyn knew she could take her time. She fished around in the cupboard and found the few ingredients needed to make gnocchi. Vince had a housekeeper who worked in the mornings three days a week, stocking the fridge with ready-made dinners he only had to heat up. Fallyn ignored the chicken fajitas marked for that night and started up the stove with the beef she’d found in the freezer. The sauce was easy and she knew Vince would like it, since it was his mother’s recipe Fallyn had adapted and made over and over through the years.

She hummed to her favorite parts of the opera, twirling around the kitchen when the high notes lifted her spirits too much to be brushed over. She conducted the turns of the tempo with her spatula, finally letting loose now that she was at home in her new house. So much had changed so quickly; it felt good to find a bit of normal in the newness.

An hour later, she had moved on from making dinner and started in on dessert. The batter for her cannoli cream cake was resting in the fridge when the pleasant ding chirped through the house, announcing a door had been opened.

Fallyn moved toward the front door, expecting Angelo or another D’Amato. She stopped short when the dark-haired woman with exaggerated curves set her purse down on the table in the foyer. Maria checked the extreme nature of her makeup in the mirror, pulling down the neckline of her low-cut blouse and pushing up her bra to thrust her breasts to the forefront. She pulled out her lipstick and reapplied the red that Vince’s ex-girlfriend wore like a uniform.

“Hi, Maria,” Fallyn greeted politely. She wanted to demand to know how the woman could explain just letting herself into someone else’s house, but Fallyn had seen Maria’s temper in action, so she kept her tone light.

Maria turned in surprise to Fallyn, blinking as she placed the face with a name. “Little Keefer? What are you doing in my house?”

“Um, I’m cooking dinner.”

“Oh. Yeah, you opened a little restaurant or something.” She tossed her lipstick back into her purse. “I’ll say it again, what are you doing in my house?”

Maria was bigger. She was taller and had the look of a woman who could handle herself in a catfight over whose weave was the rattiest. Fallyn raised her chin to the woman, keeping her voice steady and polite. “Actually, I live here.”

Maria’s nose crinkled. “You live in the west end now? Where? You dating Joey or something?”

“I’m not dating Joey,” Fallyn started to explain.

“Run along, kid. Vince and I like the house to ourselves. Might want to scoot your little butt on over to Joey’s to play in the sandbox or whatever you kids like to do. And tell Joey to get a maid. His place is filthy. But love the one you’re with, right? Now out you go.” She clicked her fingers at Fallyn and pointed to the door. “Mama’s home now. I can’t believe Vince let you into his territory, much less into his house. Can’t keep the trash out, I suppose.”

Fallyn pursed her lips together, wishing she did not have to be the one to deliver the blow to the woman she’d seen throw punches at many a bouncer. “I’m not dating Joey. I’m married to Vince.”

Maria stopped short, her mouth hanging open. Then she broke the tension with a loud, gusty laugh that shook her shoulders, but not her rock hard breasts. “Oh, that’s a good one. You almost had me there.” She pointed a long red fingernail at Fallyn. “Get on back to your brothers, you little brat.”

Fallyn had always avoided arguing and bickering with women like the plague, which was one of the many reasons she and Jen got along so great. “Why don’t you sit down? I’ll make you some tea and we can talk.” She wanted to yell at Vince for not handling the dirty work as thoroughly as he could have. He’d broken up with his long-time girlfriend, but hadn’t informed her that he’d gotten married in their short time apart.

Fallyn led the way into the kitchen, pulling out one of the less precious teacups and heating up the kettle on the stove as she searched in the cupboards for tea. “A lot’s changed since the two of you broke up.”

“Not broken up. Just hit a little rough patch.” Maria’s eyebrows had been over-plucked in the center, so she had the look of constant astonishment. When genuine surprise hit her, the eyebrows rose impossibly higher. “I guess Joey’s just spilling all our dirt to the riff-raff. I’ll make sure Vince puts a stop to that.”

“What’ve you been up to?” Fallyn was stalling, not wanting to be the one to wreck Maria’s day.

“Whenever Vince and I hit a snag, I go out of town for a month or two. I stayed away a little longer this time, so I know he’ll be nice and greedy for me. He was a real pill when I saw him last.” She threw Fallyn a wink. “So as nice as this little catch up’s been, you can run along now. It’s about to get real adult up in here, Little Keefer.”

Fallyn wished Vince had woken at the entry bell so he could deal with Maria. “Actually, a lot’s changed. I’m not dating Joey. I’m with Vince.” She held up her left hand to display the ring that shone like a beacon. “We got married, actually. Eloped about a month and a half ago.”

Maria narrowed her eyes to surmise how terrible a joke had to be to still be called one. When she sensed no tease in Fallyn, her nostrils flared as she stood off the stool at the counter. “You what?”

“Vince and I got married. It was sudden, which is probably why he hasn’t gotten around to telling you yet. Though really, he should’ve. I’m sorry you’re finding out like this.” Fallyn jumped when Maria put her hand on the stool just to knock it over like a child. The smack of the wood on the floor interrupted the soft passion of the opera still playing in the background. The soprano warned Fallyn to call for Vince, but the house was large and the ceilings were high. She had the feeling that the brief window for waking Vince had closed. “Sit down, and I’ll answer any questions you’ve got.”

“How long? How long were you sleeping with him while we were together?” Maria’s fist clenched at her side, her words coming through gritted teeth. “How long were you waving your young tits in his face before he caved?”

Fallyn swallowed, keeping her chin high and her voice calm. “We didn’t have sex until we got married. But we did kiss a couple times. I told him he’d have to break it off with you if he wanted to be with me, so that’s what happened.”

Maria threw out too many curses to keep track of. The more she cussed, the more worked up she got. The more worked up she got, the more animated her hands became, shifting from claws to flinging her fists out at Fallyn before she could properly counter. Maria’s rings Vince had bought her cut across Fallyn’s cheek, snapping her head to the side and tearing open the skin. Close up, Maria smelled like makeup and strong perfume that nearly gagged her.