On The Ropes (Tapped Out 3) - Page 121

“They didn’t hurt me, much.” I pressed my hand to his scruffy, bruised jaw. “You, on the other hand, don’t look so good. What happened last night?”

“He kicked my ass. Lucky break.” He looped an arm around my waist as we walked toward the door. “I told him two out of three, but the pussy won’t take me up on it.” He cast me a sideways look. “Sorry. I mean pansy.”

I laughed harder than I’d laughed in days. “You can say pussy around me.” I leaned up on my tiptoes to bite his earlobe. “In fact, I kind of love it when you say pussy to me.”

“Oh, is that so?”

“It’s so. In fact, it turns out I have the afternoon free, and I’d like to learn some Italian, since you and your brother are constantly saying things I don’t understand. Maybe you can teach me that particular word too.”

“I’ll teach you everything I know, tesoro.”

I smiled at his back as he opened the door for me. He’d already taught me a hell of a lot, including how to fall in love even when the timing was wrong and the world was ugly and imperfect.

I couldn’t wait to find out the rest.

Epilogue

Carly

“No, no, not there. Put it a little higher. No, move it to the left. No, hmm, maybe the right?” I studied the framed painting of cupcakes and cocked my head. “It’s still not working. What do you think, Gio?” I asked offhandedly, wanting to include him in the process.

To be honest, his opinion was an afterthought. He didn’t ask my opinion in the ring, and I didn’t ask his opinion on where to hang my cupcakes. We had a system, and it worked just fine for us.

“I think your sister’s about to break that painting over your head, and then my brother will be pissed because it took him a month to get the colors just right.”

I sighed. My sister was all twitchy today, and evidently, Dante was Mr. Sensitive Artist. And jeez, people accused me of being the hormonal one. “Fine, just put it wherever.”

My sister slapped it on a hook right where she was and got down off the stepladder, leaving my cupcakes at an almost diagonal angle.

Yeah, well, I’d be fixing that the moment the lot of them cleared out. I’d just have to wait, because at six and a half months preggo, everyone flipped the hell out every time I even touched a stepladder.

Apparently, looking like a beach ball wasn’t enough evidence you had plenty of cushioning.

“I’m going to go downstairs and finish setting up the books.” Mia moved to the door of my café/bakery. “Then we can take pictures, because this place is almost freaking done, and Safe House and Dangerous Treats will be ready for opening day next week.”

I bit my lip at the name of my place. I still worried about it. Did it seem to be making light of Safe House’s mission? I hoped not. I’d just thought it was a cute play on words, and you know, with my being with a former mob dude, it was kind of ironic.

“Do you think I should change—” I began.

“No,” all three of them said in unison.

I scrunched up my nose. “Fine, fine. You’ve done your duty here, now scram.”

“About damn time.” Fox unfolded himself from one of my brand new white chairs. They went with the adorable round pedestal tables that had cost a mint.

They’d actually cost Gio and Mia a mint, because I still wasn’t bringing in much on the moolah side of the street. But I would be. I still wasn’t fond of letting other people pay my way, but right now, I needed help. They loved me, and I would return the favor for all they’d done as soon as I could. This place was going to be a success if it killed me.

And if it wasn’t, once the baby was born, I’d just go back to stripping.

Kidding. No stripping for me. I was done with that for good. Besides, my stretch marks were killer these days.

“Hold it. I have something I’d like to take care of.” Gio rose from the little settee in the corner that was supposed to be casual seating and yet most often served as a bed for Princess, my Yorkie puppy. Even now, she perched there with a hopeful expression in her big eyes and her floppy pink bow hanging halfway off her head.

“Uh, now? You probably want privacy.” Mia gripped the door handle. “We’ll give you privacy.”

“No, we won’t.” Fox slid his arm through Mia’s. “We’re just going to stand right here and watch.”

“Pervert,” she muttered.

Tags: Cari Quinn Tapped Out Romance
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