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I shove the comforter back and scoot to the edge of the bed, and unexpected dampness lingers between my thighs. What the…? A swirl of heat kindles low in my belly and the dream—no nightmare—from last night flits to the forefront of my mind.
Oh, my gosh… Another wave of heat flares as vivid images of Nico’s fingers between my legs consume my thoughts. Good lordy, what was in those pain meds? It felt so real. I tug on the waistband of my panties and check out my cooter. Yup, she definitely thought it was real.
Wow, I really need to get laid.
Sliding off the mattress, I hobble to the crutches perched at the foot of my bed. Wait a second… I don’t remember those being there last night. Shoving away the lusty dream, I try to focus. I vaguely recall Nico carrying me up the stairs and depositing me into the tub. Everything else is a big blur.
No way he came back. There is no possible way that dream was real, right?
Leaning on one of the crutches, I drag my hands over my face and let out a huff. No pain meds for me today. The last thing I need is to make a bad impression on my first date in a decade. With Jack. A perfectly nice guy and the complete opposite of the obsessive mafioso.
Today is going to be great. A fresh start is exactly what I need. Goodbye clumsy, beaten-down Maisy Whitaker and hello, single bombshell Maisy Jordan. Not only had I dropped my married name, but I’d freed myself from the oppressive binds of my illustrious parents’ last name, Vanderbilt, and assumed my middle name, Jordan, as my official surname. Now, if I can only figure out how to use these things.
I stuff a crutch under each of my armpits and wobble toward the bathroom.
You can do this, Maisy.
Jack sits across the table from me, his silky blonde hair perfectly gelled to soft waves. A warm smile spreads his lips as he gazes down at me from over the rim of his coffee mug. “So you said you work at a gym?”
“Umhmm.” I place my cup down, and my elbow hits one of the crutches propped against my chair. “Oh, sugar!” I cry as it falls on top of the table beside us and knocks over an older gentleman’s coffee. “I’m so sorry!” I try to stand, but my bad ankle wobbles, and I fall back on my butt.
“Hold on, I’ve got this.” Jack shoots up, grabs some napkins, and starts to wipe down the man’s table. He’s grumbling and looks pissed as all heck.
“I’m so sorry,” I mumble again. “Let me get you another one.”
“Maisy, sit, relax. I’ll take care of it.” Jack flashes the grumpy man a beaming smile and the tight set of his jaw softens a fraction. “What can I get you, sir?”
“Decaf with cream,” he grumbles.
Ugh. What a boring coffee. And he’s freaking out about that? What’s the point of even drinking the stuff without the caffeine?
My gaze trails after Jack’s tall, lean form as he marches to the counter and orders the man another coffee. I can practically feel Mr. Grumpy’s hateful glare searing into the side of my face.
After Jack hands the new mug of piping hot liquid gold to Mr. Grumpy, his hatred seems to simmer. My date folds into the chair across from me once again, and his easy smile returns. “Now, where were we?”
“Um, I was about to tell you about my amazing job at Palestra.”
“Oh, I’ve heard of that health club. Super elite. That must be a fun place to work.”
My thoughts flicker to Nico, unbidden, to the stolen glimpses I’ve gotten of the bare-chested, tattooed Italian god working out on the weight floor. “Yup, tons of fun.” I take a careful sip of my latte, careful not to knock anything over and cause another disaster. “What do you do?”
“I’m a teacher. I’ve been imparting my words of wisdom to the lucky kindergarteners over at The Anderson School in the Upper West Side for the last five years.”
My heart actually melts a little. A super hot guy who loves kids? This man must have fallen straight from heaven right into my lap.
“It’s really rewarding work?—”
“I bet it is.” A familiar deep timbre sends my fluttering heart into freefall.
I spin around and piercing azure orbs meet mine. The easygoing, flirty man who carried me up to my bedroom yesterday afternoon is gone, replaced by a snarling devil. His nostrils flare as he glares down at Jack, those blazing eyes shooting daggers.
“You again?” Jack slowly lowers his mug, like any sudden movements might startle the massive beast looming over our table.
“Funny, I was about to say the same thing.” Nico steals a chair from Mr. Grumpy and drags it beside me. His thigh brushes mine and even through the dark slacks, I can feel the tremor of rage coursing through his body. His teeth are clenched, a tendon in his jaw vibrating beneath the scruff. Iron fingers latch around my knee, and I jump, barely suppressing a squeal. “My apologies,” he growls, eyes intent on my date, who I’m fairly certain has started to tremble. “Perhaps I wasn’t clear when we met last time, that was my mistake.”
“Clear about?” Jack asks.
Nico’s glare pivots, those eyes lancing across my cheek. “About Maisy. She’s mine.” He turns that searing gaze to Jack and pulls a knife from his pocket. Then he drags it across the scruff of his cheek. The slow, deliberate scrape sends goose bumps rippling down my arms. “If I see you near her again, I’ll carve your eyes out for daring to look at what’s mine.”
