Page 82 of The Mobster’s Mistress

I think about the hospital, the warehouse, and the terrifying sound of that gunshot. I don't particularly want to be alone tonight, but I also know I can't let fear make every decision for me.

"I'd like you to stay," I tell him. "Because I want you here, not because I need a bodyguard."

He smiles and pulls me gently against him. "Then I'll stay."

After a long shower and a change into my favorite oversized T-shirt, I find Enzo sitting on the edge of my bed. His suit jacket is hanging over a chair, with Poe already curled up on it.

"Your jacket's officially been claimed," I tell him.

Enzo glances over his shoulder. "I see that."

"You can try moving him, but I'd recommend updating your will first."

He laughs, then gets to his feet when I approach.

"How's your shoulder?"

"Sore. I'm planning to use it as an excuse to avoid shelving books for at least a week."

"Good."

"You're not supposed to agree that quickly."

He smiles and reaches for me, waiting until I slip my arms around his waist.

For a while, we simply stand together. I can hear the traffic outside and Sir Pounce snoring somewhere near the foot of the bed. Enzo brushes my hair away from my face, careful not to touch the bruise Valentina left behind.

"You don't have to do anything tonight," he tells me.

"I know."

"I mean it, Bridget. We can just sleep."

I look up at him. "I know what I want."

"And what's that?"

"Right now? To kiss you, have you hold me, and wake up tomorrow without discovering another horrible secret before breakfast."

His expression softens. "I can promise you that last part."

"Good. Because my poor cats have endured enough drama for one lifetime."

He kisses me, and I let myself settle into his arms. There's no rush, no frantic need to pretend everything is perfect. We take our time, laughing when Murder Mittens objects to being removed from the pillows and pausing when my shoulder reminds me I'm not as recovered as I'd like to believe.

Eventually, we settle beneath the blankets together. Enzo holds me against his chest, one hand resting lightly at my waist while I listen to his breathing.

Trust doesn't rebuild itself because somebody makes a beautiful speech. Tomorrow, I'll probably have more questions. There will be lawyers, police interviews, and difficult conversations about a life I've only just discovered exists.

But tonight, I've made a choice.

My choice.

And for now, that's enough.

I wake to sunlight spilling through my bedroom curtains.

For a moment, I don't remember why there's a warm arm wrapped around my waist. Then Enzo shifts beside me, pulling me closer.