Knocked Up by the Bad Boy (21 page)

“I know it doesn’t make sense. I can’t explain it.”

I never thought I would keep a baby from a one-night stand, but here we are. I don’t know why, but I trust him. He’ll take care of me and the baby. He’s a fucking Italian, for fuck’s sake. It’s practically encoded in their DNA.

“All I know is that I just need to protect what’s mine.”

My heart jumps in my chest. “You’re mine, too.”

A small smile curls his lips as he slides his hand down the table and takes my hand, intertwining his fingers with mine. “Yes.”

“I mean it, Johnny.”

“I don’t plan on getting another wife.”

“You know what I mean. No fucking strippers, cocktail waitresses—I’m the only one who gets to touch your dick.”

A smirk staggers across his face. “I find the fact you think that I chase hired pussy
insulting
—”

“I saw you staring at that cocktail waitress’ ass the second time we met.”

His smirk refuses to disappear and my insides boil with heat as he leans across the table, his hand stroking my knee underneath. “You’re already fucking jealous, huh?”

It’s not exactly jealousy, but I can’t deny that I’m worried. He has a crazy sex drive, and what’ll happen when I’m huge and there are hot waitresses and strippers strutting around him all day at work?

“You don’t need to be jealous, Maya.”

“My stomach is going to swell and I’m going to get fat—”

It feels ridiculous to admit these stupid, insecure fears of mine as he inches his hand up my thigh.

“You’ll be sexy.”

His dark eyes seem to glow at me from across the table, and I can tell that he means it. Maybe he’s even looking forward to it. It brings a smile to my face.

“My child is inside you, and you’re wearing my ring. Why would I want someone else, when I have you all to myself? All I want to do is fuck you until my cock stops working.”

Greedy fingers squeeze my thigh and a sudden flare shoots between my legs, sending heat to my face. No one’s ever looked at me the way he does. He makes me feel like a prize. It’s the way his eyes linger on every inch of my skin, and the way he strokes my body after he fucks me, as though he still wants me. I’m addicted to that. The more I look into his eyes, the more I just want to call this whole dinner off and go home.

“Have you thought about names?”

“A little bit,” he admits. “I like Matteo, for a boy.”

Thinking of the baby sends my heart racing.

“I worried about becoming a mom.”

“
It’ll be fine
.”

“I have no one to look up to. You don’t understand what it was like growing up in that place.”

“That’s exactly why you’ll be a great mom. You survived that shit-hole.”

Confidence blazes from him, but I can’t help the trembling of my hand. I wish I could be that sure of myself. I only know what I know.

“You’ve been there?”

“Many times.” He clasps his hands on the table. “Bikers have no fucking class, no offense.”

He’s right, but it’s a little rich to hear him say that.

“Your opening line to me was, ‘I want to fuck you.’”

White teeth flash at me as he lets out a short laugh and shrugs apologetically. “I was just getting to the point, sweetheart.”

“Nothing gets to a girl’s heart faster.”

The corners of his lips turn. “You didn’t seem to mind any of the filthy shit I said to you.”

“Well—”

“You definitely didn’t mind that filthy shit when I did them to you.”

Cocky bastard.

“If you’ve been to the fortress, then you know what it’s like there.”

“I guess.”

I lean in across the table. “I don’t want our kid to be surrounded by violence.”

“That’s not going to happen.”

My voice lowers to a whisper. “But your job—”

“Unlike your father, we don’t involve our women and kids in the family business.” He slides his hand along my arm. “I don’t bring my work home.”

My eyes search him, the handsome, dark suit, his hair neatly swept, the deep, earnest eyes. He’s not lying. How could that be possible?

“Sounds too good to be true.”

The smirk lifts to his eyes. “It probably does after living in that place for so long. It may come as a surprise to you after hearing your father’s bullshit, but we respect our families.”

His hand slides away from me as I slowly digest that. It sounds like a fantasyland.

“What’s your family like?”

He makes a face at the question, quickly hiding his discomfort under a smile. “Can’t complain.”

The guy can’t stand talking about himself, can he?

“Was your dad like you?”

At the mention of his dad, Johnny compulsively grabs his wineglass. “He was in the life, yeah.”

I’m startled by the grittiness in his voice. “What was he like?”

His eyes cut into me as every trace of warmth recedes from his body. I feel it like a wave of frost curling around my limbs. He gives me a look as though it’s none of my fucking business.

“I’m just trying to get to know you.”

“You don’t need to know anything about my dad for that.”

He looks like he might snap the stem of his wineglass. Fine, I’ll drop it. It’s not worth him getting pissed off, but he changes tack with lightning speed.

“What did you want to do before you met me?”

A sagging feeling makes me slump over the table. The hair salon. Beauty school. Both dreams, crushed. I can’t stand to talk about it now.

“It’s stupid.”

“Tell me.”

“No.”

“Come on.”

Fine.

“I wanted to go to beauty school, and I worked at the café because I was going to save up money to move out and work at a hair salon. Maybe have my own business, one day.”

It was a stupid, modest dream, but it was mine.

There. Go on. Laugh at me.

But he doesn’t laugh. “That’s not stupid. Lots of my guys’ wives work in hair salons. Who gives a fuck?”

Seeing him shrug it off lightens a huge weight sitting on my chest.

“My dad said it was a waste of money. He wanted me to stay in the compound, date a biker, and watch everyone’s kids. Anyway, he made me quit my job and refused to pay for the school.” I shrug hopelessly. “And now I’m here.”

And now I’m depressed.

“What was it about it that you liked so much?”

I stare at the small hole in the plastic tablecloth, avoiding his gaze because I don’t want to see how sorry he feels for me.

“It doesn’t matter anymore. I was supposed to go to college, and then that fell through because my dad thought it was a waste of time, so I shouldn’t be surprised that he thought beauty school was a waste of time, too.”

He frowns at me as the waiter drops a deep-red pizza in front of us, the cooked tomato aroma hitting my stomach immediately. Shit, that smells delicious.

“My father said the same thing to me.”

“What?”

“He never really gave a shit about education. He just wanted me to start working for him. You know, help provide for the family.”

We’re quiet for a moment as he cuts a slice for me and slides the wedge onto my plate. He cuts one for himself, slicing into the plate with a knife so loudly that the ceramic shrieks and I wince.

I guess he still hates his dad.

He picks up a knife and fork, cutting into the slice.

“You seriously eat pizza with a knife and fork?”

He looks at me, his utensils raised. “What?”

I sputter with laughter as he gives me a serious look. “I never took you as a prissy guy.”

“I get my hands dirty all the damn time.”

Then he winks at me and my heart squeezes.

“So pussy juice is okay but tomato sauce isn’t?”

“Don’t talk like that here—”

“I seem to remember you laying on filthy lines at me at that sausage place.”

“That was different. People know me here for being—”

“—For eating your pizza with a knife and fork.”

“Come on.”

“I
promise
you that they gossip about it.”

He drops the knife and fork and grabs the slice with his hands, tearing off a piece with his mouth as he stares at me, chewing. “Are you done breaking my balls?”

“Why? It’s so much fun.”

Hell, I’m actually smiling for the first time in days. We eat the rest of the meal in comfortable silence and I feel as though a little weight has been lifted off my shoulders. I still don’t know much about him, but I learned a few bits. At least he has a sense of humor.

“Mr. Cravotta, thank you so much for coming. I hope you have a pleasant evening.”

Johnny gives the waiter a genial smile as he stands up, slapping a bunch of bills on the table.

“Do you ever get tired of people sucking up to you?”

He lets out a long sigh as he guides me out of the restaurant. “Why do you always say whatever’s in your head?”

I slip my hand into his as we walk down the street, and a smile pulls at his lips.

“Do you want me to be a sycophant like everyone else?”

“
No
.” He stops in the middle of the sidewalk and tugs my arm so that I fly into his chest, and then he looks down at me through smoldering eyes. “I want you to shut up and kiss me.”

The moment I feel his breath on my lips, I lean forward because I’m tall enough in these heels to catch his lips. Something more than desire heats up inside me as he curves his arm around my waist and kisses me back right in the middle of the sidewalk. It feels as though there’s something leaping inside my stomach and a breathless wave of happiness hits me as he pulls back and smiles.

* * *

“It’s so nice to meet you!”

A woman I’ve never seen before in my life embraces me and bumps her cheek against mine. I get a strong whiff of perfume and for a moment I’m dizzied by the smell. She looks like a richly decorated tree with her golden bracelets and necklace. All I have is my gaudy engagement ring that still needs to get sized. Her manicured nails seize my hand as she catches a glimpse of it.

“Oh my God, it’s gorgeous! You must be so excited!”

“Uh—yeah.”

I’m practically bursting with excitement.

“Have you set a date?”

I resist the urge to glance at Johnny. “Not yet.”

“Well, I can’t wait. Lovely to meet you!”

My head spins as the next person sidles into view, her teeth nearly cracking from her fake smile. “It’s such an honor.”

An honor? I’m only here because we didn’t use a condom.

“Thanks for coming.”

Then the next one comes along, and the next. They treat me as though I’m a goddamn queen, but I’m just waiting for my dad to show up and cause a huge scene. I stand at Johnny’s side like a prop as a line of guests greet him one by one, sucking up to the
don.

“Hey, there he is!”

Here we go again.
Another one
.

One of his captains wraps his arms around Johnny and gives him a kiss on both cheeks.

“Congratulations, Johnny,” he says, giving me an admiring look. “You’re a lucky guy.”

“Thanks,” he says, beaming.

“So what’s the plan after this? You’re going to get married right away?”

“That’s what I’d like, but I’d prefer to get her old man’s approval.”

Never going to happen.

“Isn’t he here?”

“Not yet.”

He turns his head, looking at the small group of people, and then I recognize him as François, the man who hit on me in the bar right before Johnny cock-blocked him. François shrugs and turns back toward his boss.

“Do we have time to talk a little business?”

“What do you have for me?”

François bends his head, his grin splitting his face into two. “Really fucking good news. We’ve got the keys. We’re going to be
fuckin’ rich
.”

The boss’ face remains impassive at the news. “Good.”

“We got one of the girls to fuck him upstairs while Tommy and I took his keys and made a copy. He won’t have any idea.”

“Keep your
fucking
voice down.”

What the hell are they talking about?

“Right, this isn’t the time.”

Whatever it is, it’s got my fiancé on edge. I don’t know much about his work, other than what everyone else already knows: construction scams, extortion, the ubiquitous money-laundering Salerno cheese, etc.

“No sign of my future in-laws so far.”

He should be glad they aren’t here.

It’s a peaceful, quiet party. Pristine white dishes sit on the rustic tables, the waiters slowly gathering them as I sit in one of the wooden chairs of the outdoor garden of
Le Zinc
. I’m possessed by a sleepy lull brought on by a full stomach, and darkness slowly descends over the party. Soft lights in the trees illuminate the tables.

A tall man with rugged good looks walks into the courtyard, a baby in his arms. Johnny’s small circle breaks to greet him, “Tony!” A small woman, who I’m assuming is Tony’s wife, gives Johnny a scathing look and heads for my table, ignoring him completely. She looks unhappy to be here.

She’s my new favorite person.

The men crowd around the baby, and a huge grin lights up Johnny’s face when it reaches out and grabs his finger.

“She has a strong grip.”

Smiling, I turn back to the woman, who watches her baby anxiously. She notices me and smiles reluctantly.

“Hi, sorry, I’m Elena.”

“I’m Maya.”

We shake hands and she falls back into her chair, looking at me curiously.

“I’m the one who got knocked up.”

“O—oh!”

My face heats up. “Sorry. It’s been a long day.”

Elena’s anxious face breaks into a smile. “No, it’s okay. Are you—
ah
—excited?”

Everyone keeps asking that, and I don’t know how to feign excitement. I am nervous about it, but everyone expects me to scream about how
lucky
I am to marry Johnny Cravotta, the boss of the family. The king of Montreal.

“I don’t know.”

Elena’s voice lowers so that I can barely hear her. “You don’t have to marry him.”

Well, that’s a first.

My skin crawls and I look around for Johnny, but he’s still playing with the baby. No one is within earshot.