The Enforcer (Untamed Hearts Book 3) (61 page)

Brianna stopped sucking on her Popsicle to give Carina a smile, knowing that the ridiculous amount of happiness she’d been hiding was showing on her face. “Yes,” she whispered. “It’s the best thing in the whole world.”

“Okay.” Carina held up her hands in surrender. “If you’re happy, I’m happy.”

“I’m happy,” Brianna promised her.

Carina turned back to Tino. “And you’re happy?”

Tino leaned against the entrance to the kitchen, his gaze on Brianna. “Yeah.” He smiled. “Very happy.”

“Okay,” Carina decided for all of them. “I told Nonno Brianna was coming with me for Thanksgiving. We’re staying the weekend.”

Tino dropped his head back and looked at the ceiling. “Carina—”

“The puttana’s going to the Brambinos’,” Carina said, because she hadn’t said Mary’s name since Tino got out of the Savios’ basement.

“Is she taking Frankie with her?” Tino was still looking at the ceiling. “I don’t like spending time with him either.”

“Yup.” Carina nodded. “I told Nonno I wasn’t coming if either of them were there. They’re gonna be gone for Christmas too.”

“I have to be with Romeo,” Tino argued. “Nova has to go to the don’s, but no one gives a shit about me. I can’t leave him alone for Thanksgiving. I can’t leave him alone for Christmas either. He was alone for all those years in prison.”

“Come for the lights,” Carina urged. “I want my brother there for the lights. You’ve missed them every year since you started working with Carlo.”

Tino looked to Brianna and smiled again. “I’ll get there for the lights.”

Chapter Forty-Three

So Dyker Heights had this thing.

This totally crazy, wildly insane thing that started because no one should give a bunch of Italians Christmas lights and suggest one couldn’t outdo the others.

The don had crews working on his mansion for months before Thanksgiving.

Months.

Tino had no idea that there were Christmas-light professionals until he’d moved to Dyker Heights, but there were, and they cost a lot.

Tino knew because he heard Nova bitching about the price one time.

These crazy Italiani spent tens of thousands of dollars on their Christmas-light displays trying to outdo one another, and every year it got bigger and more outrageous. It was a wonder Con Ed didn’t just blow a fucking breaker and lose all of Brooklyn off the grid.

Nova had zero patience for it. He thought it was a spoiled, suburban thing, but Tino had always liked the lights, and he didn’t care who was putting them up. The lights were something Tino did with Carina. Give two ADD kids that many Christmas lights, and they’ll stare at that sparkly shit until their eyes hurt.

It was special between them since his first Christmas in Dyker Heights.

There were tour buses that ran from Thanksgiving through New Year’s, because word got out and the rest of New York City came to see the guidos try to outdo one another.

Tino and Carina used to follow the tours when they stopped in front of Frankie’s place, or at the don’s. There were stops at both. They did it almost every night, entertaining the tourists who got to take pictures with real mafiosi. It became such a thing. They were almost part of the tour, and half the time they’d catch a ride to the end before the bus headed back to Manhattan, which was great because the tour drivers usually footed the bill for them when they stopped for hot chocolate and cannoli. Both of which Tino and Carina were big fans of at thirteen, so they were basically hyped the fuck up for the entire holiday season.

Probably why Nova hated the lights so much.

It certainly didn’t help.

The lights were one of the nicest memories Tino had about Dyker Heights. It wasn’t until he was back that he realized how horrible it was that he’d skipped the past two holidays with Carina.

So even though they were adults now, they entertained the first wave of tourists outside the don’s mansion who starting showing up after Thanksgiving dinner. They posed for the pictures and caught a ride to the end of the tour for cannoli and hot chocolate.

Tino got coffee this time.

Carina stuck with hot chocolate.

Brianna drank a bottle of water.

Then they made the long, chilly walk to the don’s mansion under the insanity of a million Christmas lights.

“I’d hate my life if I had to eat like you,” Carina said as she drank her hot chocolate. “For real, Bri. I’d quit.”

Brianna laughed as she leaned into Tino and drank her water like it wasn’t an issue. “I like water.”

Carina rolled her eyes, but she still seemed very content.

“I think Nonno won this year,” Carina said as she looked at a house that really went all out on the nativity, saints, overall Catholic theme.

“Nothing like the big
Buon Natale
stamped right on the front of the mansion in case the sea of red, green, and white didn’t give it away.” Tino shook his head and pulled Brianna closer, rubbing his hand over her arm because it was cold, and she wasn’t drinking something warm like they were. “He really outdid himself this year.”

Carina laughed. “I liked the lit Sicilian flags that lined the walkway. That’s my favorite part.”

“I guarantee you Carlo put those motherfuckers in himself.”

Carina laughed harder. “Probably.”

Tino laughed with her, and for the first time in a very, very long time, all felt right with his world, and he was pretty sure he had Brianna to thank for it. So when Carina walked over to talk to Sarah Rapoli, who’d come home from Boston for the holiday, Tino leaned down and whispered in Brianna’s ear, “You gonna sneak into my room tonight?”

“I might,” Brianna said with a smile. “But you gotta tell me which one’s yours, or I’m gonna shock some poor middle-aged capo staying the night after drinking too much.”

“And that would be very bad for his health,” Tino confirmed. “I’m in Carlo’s room. He’s going back tonight to be with Lola.”

“Carlo’s room.” Brianna waggled her eyebrows. “Fancy.”

“Only the best for my girl.” He wanted to kiss her, but Carina was still talking to kids from school, and he wasn’t ready to do that to Brianna’s reputation. He’d dropped his arm the second he saw them, but he couldn’t stop himself from staying close. “You find me. I’ll make it good, baby.”

“Okay.” Brianna nodded, looking as breathless as he felt, even though he’d stayed the night last night at Carina’s and spent several hours making it good. She gave him another wide, pleased smile and promised, “I’ll definitely find you.”

* * * *

Carina was hyped up on chocolate and Christmas lights, sprawled out on her stomach in her room at the don’s mansion, flipping through the channels on the flat-screen television while Brianna brushed her teeth in the private bathroom.

“Aren’t you tired?” Brianna asked as she spit into the sink. “It’s midnight, Carina.”

“I’m so
not
tired.” Carina kept pushing the button on the remote, not bothering with the menu, making it obvious she was looking for something to keep her attention. “You wanna watch a Christmas movie?”

“Just because you had ten cups of hot chocolate doesn’t mean I did,” Brianna whined, because Carina loved Christmas movies, and they usually went from one to another on those channels that played them late at night. Brianna knew it because this wasn’t her first Thanksgiving at the don’s. She’d been staying there for the holiday weekend since fifth grade. “We’ll be up until five in the morning if you start on Christmas movies.”

Carina didn’t acknowledge her; she just kept flipping through channels until Brianna fell into bed next to her wearing a pair of long-legged, conservative red pajamas her mother bought her two Christmases ago and were still scratchy and unused.

“You are very dressed up for bed,” Carina observed five minutes later when she still hadn’t found what she was looking for because the don had way too many channels. “It almost looks like you’re planning on going somewhere.”

Brianna dropped the choreography book she’d been studying, hoping for some miracle that’d allow Carina to go to sleep.

“Are you fucking with me?” Brianna asked her in disbelief.

Carina looked over her shoulder with a smile.

“You bitch.” Brianna grabbed a pillow and threw it at her.

“Why don’t you just tell me you need to sneak out to take advantage of my brother?” Carina held her hand up to the door. “Not like I didn’t hear you two last night. Not gonna forget that anytime soon. Thanks so much.”

“Oh my God, you cannot possibly be giving us shit about that after hearing you every night.
‘Harder. Faster. Deeper.’
” Brianna really acted it out too, making her voice low and breathless. “Do you know how many nights I’ve dreamed about Paco because I keep hearing his name over and over?
‘Paco. Paco. Paco.’
”

Carina arched an eyebrow. “Are you done?”

“Paco.” Brianna fell down on the bed and arched her back. She let out a low moan and said it again with extra flair. “
Paco!
”

Someone sleeping in the room next door hit the wall.

Carina and Brianna burst out laughing.

“Get the fuck out, puttana.” Carina pointed at the door. “Get out before I cut you.”

“You cut me, I’ll cut you back,” Brianna said as she pushed Carina’s shoulder and rolled out of bed. “Don’t wait up.”

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” Carina suggested and then stopped. “Actually, just forget I said that. You should behave like the good Catholic girl you are.”

“Who lied to you?” Brianna laughed and then dodged a pillow when Carina threw it at her.

Brianna slipped into the hallway, hoping to God whoever was throwing things at the walls wouldn’t open the door to see her sneaking out.

Then she made the trek to Carlo’s room, which was unfortunately on the other side of the mansion. There were a few great rooms at the mansion. The permanent, off-limit rooms that weren’t for guests and usually had clothes and other personal items stored in them like a second home. Carina’s room that had a great view of the garden. Nova’s room that was just as big, and just as nice, and also had a great view of the garden, only from the other side of the house, like the don knew they were natural enemies. Then there was Carlo’s room, which was bigger than Carina’s, with a sitting room, a mini fridge, a microwave, and a fully stocked bar that made it more like an apartment than a bedroom.

Brianna had never fully figured out why Carlo got such great digs in the mansion, but she wasn’t complaining. She went to knock when she got to his room, but the door opened before she could.

“How’d you—”

Tino put his finger to his lips and pulled her in. When he closed the door, he said, “I got motherfuckers on either side.”

“Oh,” she started and then looked toward the window, which hung over the front driveway where Carlo could see anyone coming to the mansion. It was a good room for an enforcer, except for the music blaring in from the Christmas display. “Oh wow.”

“Yeah.” Tino rubbed at his forehead as “Funiculì Funiculà” started playing through the window. “It’s on a timer. It should go off in about two hours. First it was Frank Sinatra. Now it’s this Pavarotti shit. I don’t know what’s next, but if “Dominick the Donkey” comes on, I’m sorry, I love you, but I’m gonna have to blow my brains out.”

“Don’t say that.” She hit his shoulder and then smiled. “I like this song. Makes me think of weddings.”

She started tilting her head back and forth to the music and began singing, even though Tino winced and said, “You’re butchering my people’s language. Stop that.”

She started singing louder, because she could tell it was genuinely getting under his skin, and Tino was a very hard person to irritate. He had always been agreeable about everything, but this was getting to him, and Brianna knew all the words. One of the jobs of the don was to go to all the family weddings. It kept things personable. It made people loyal, and since they were a big Borgata, there was always a wedding. He had no wife, so he brought Carina, who brought Brianna.

She had no idea how many Italian weddings she’d been to in her life, but it was enough to be able to sing “Funiculì Funiculà” passionately, with her hands, like she believed the words, even though she had no idea what they meant because she had taken French in school, figuring Carina had the Italian covered if they decided to travel the world.

Not that she did all that wonderful with French.

Brianna was a great dancer, but a horrible linguist.

“Oh my God,” Tino whispered. “This is not okay. I can’t unhear this.”

She started dancing as she sang, but screeched when he swept her up and tossed her over his shoulder. He took her from the sitting room into the bedroom, only the music was louder in there, like the room was right on top of the speaker, so when he dropped her on the king-size bed, she held out her arms and tried to continue the song until Tino clamped a hand over her mouth and whispered, “Never, ever do that again.”

Brianna cracked up and asked, “What’s it about, anyway?”

“It’s about a guy climbing a mountain with his girl and screaming from the top that they should get married.”

“Really?” She raised her eyebrows at him. “Is that what I was singing about?”

“No, that’s what the song is about. I have
no idea
what the fuck you were singing about.”

She giggled again. “Teach me, then. Teach me to sing it right.”

“Your mouth is so tense. You have to feel the words. Italiano is very sensual. It has to come off your tongue the right way, or you shouldn’t speak it. You shouldn’t sing it either.”

She relaxed her mouth by sticking her tongue out.

“Stop that.” He grabbed her face and squeezed. “Put it back.”

She stuck her tongue out farther.

Tino groaned, “Madonn’,” when she started singing again.

She tried to climb off the bed when he attempted to cover her mouth once more, but he caught her, trapping her against the mattress, using his weight to pin her. He didn’t cover her mouth again, but he started saying the words correctly against the back of her neck, and even though it always sounded like a playful, kind of silly song, the way he said it against her sensitive skin made it suddenly sexual.