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There’s a hard note in Bruno’s voice, a flash of irritation. “Oh, now you’ve spoiled it all.”
Carlo’s chin tips back. “Really.”
Bruno’s eyes flash. “Really” He reaches over to clip the top of Carlo’s head. Carlo ducks and evades him easily, sneaking his other arm quickly up to flick his finger at Bruno’s ear.
The playful look on Bruno’s face shifts quickly to a sharper edge. He swings his arm a second time to slap the side of Carlo’s head. Again, Carlo is too quick. Laughing almost bursting into a giggle as he catches Bruno’s wrist. Seizes it, plucks it in the air.
Quickly twisting Brunos arm, Carlo has an evil flash in his grin as he twists and spins Bruno down to the rug.
“OW!” splayed on his back, with the thick towel slipping, I think Bruno feels the sting in his pride.
Carlo is still laughing and he still has hold of Brunos arm. “Serves you right. Asshole.”
“What?”
“Ah, you got the better deal of the two in one bargain.”
Bruno’s eyebrow wrinkles. “What?”
I’m looking at Carlo, too.
He says, “You were in front. Lucia has two super sensitive spots, right up in her folds, high at the front. You had the bottom one at least. You should have been able to get to the top spot.”
“I would have, if your knees hadn’t been in the way all the time.”
Carlo makes a big, theatrical laugh. “Right. It was my fault, micia.”
“I’m breaking your balls. It was great.”
I say, “Next time, you can both try for the top spot.”
Bruno’s voice lowers, “Top spot is starting to take on a whole new meaning.”
We entangle again and I’m buried in soft hugs and kisses. There’s nothing better than being overwhelmed by two or all three of my men. One-on-one is special, too. With all of them.
As we surface from the tumble, reaching for more savories, to accompany the nibbles of each other, Carlo asks,
“Did you go to Wood Street on a rat hunt?”
“Yes,” I tell him,“And I found some vermin, but not the rat.”
“So,” Bruno says, “The hunt goes on.” Then he asks, “Did you hear from Alessio? I though he would be here tonight.”
My mouth twists. “Funny you should say that.”
Carlo nods before I even say anything. “His uncle.” Reaching for a chunk of cheese to pop into my mouth, he says, “He always gets weird when his Uncle Jerry’s around.”
“What do you mean?”
Carlo says, “When Uncle Jerry comes here, he’s always bringing some stupid idea. Alessio falls for it every time.”
I ask him, “Like what?”
“Jerry plays up the big bad Chicago gangster act. Being a ‘made guy,’ and how awesome that is.”
The Commission doesn’t recognize any outfits in the Pacific northwest. It”s a historical thing. I can’t see that it makes much difference o anyone here. It rankles with a lot of people, though. Especially those with family in Vegas, New York, or Miami. Or Chicago, of course.
Carlo goes on, “He tries to be tries to be the guy Alessio looks up to. Like a kind of a daddy surrogate. He likes to play about with Alessio like a little puppy. Getting him to fetch and jump and to play dead. You know?”
