Page 1 of Come Take Me Now

Prologue

Tilly

You always wear a watch, but you never look at it. Because you keep time mentally. You have a busy schedule. You’re never late, and you’d never reschedule on me at the last minute. You flick your wrist to keep your watch facing up. Not to flash your Rolex. It’s about your appearance. A symbol.

A symbol that you’re on top because you’re an observer.

You watch people, learn their quirks, and pick up on any bluff. You’re not chatty. You’ll listen to every word I say, even when your mind’s racing. You don’t show it. You’re always calm. You’ll remember everything I tell you. You’ll know what topics to bring up and keep a conversation going with small comments. You know things I haven’t told you yet. You have this way of making silence intimate, but you can make it scary, too. Like your terrifying precision.

From your ironed clothes to our schedules, you control everything. You always wear a pressed shirt and smell expensive. You cook like a gourmet chef, and you know which wine complements dinner. And your neatness goes beyond how you look. Your house is immaculate. But you never mind when I clutter your space. You even welcome it. Because you like a woman’s presence.

Not just any woman.

You wouldn’t look at another woman when I’m not around. Because you act like I’m the only woman on earth, and you know your presence fills my world. You ruined me for any other man. And no matter how many hours or days we’re apart, you’re on my mind. Always. You calm me—no matter what we’re doing. From your big shoulders, built from years of vineyard work, to your height, every inch of you is steady against my usual buzzing.

You’re tall, but not freakishly. Tall enough that you’re impossible to miss, and still taller than me if I’m in heels. You command attention wherever you go. You’ve covered nearly every inch of your body in ink. When I ask what that tattoo means, you just smile and say we’ll talk about it another time. Maybe after enough drinks one night, you’ll finally tell me. Because everything is a choice, and no one decides anything for you.

But just when I think I can see through you, you surprise me. You’re layered. You hide things. Under the tattoos, you’re sensitive. You’re thoughtful. You know how to make a woman fall for you with just a glance. A look in your eye.

Your eyes are the darkest I’ve ever seen. Your pupils are indistinguishable from your irises. Unless you’re looking into the sun. Then they’re warm. You’re never cold, and you would never brush me off. Sometimes you’re aloof, but weirdly present. You’ve put me through hell, but you’ve saved me more.

You look the way you do because you’ve learned to cover everything you can’t control. And there’s not much you can’t control. Including me. But your control doesn’t bother me. It’s welcome because of how you carry yourself. You’re impossibly magnetic. You can suck anyone in. You know how to leverage that. You know what’s best. You’re always right. Genuinely. You know that. You like proving me wrong. But you sweeten it with one of your million-dollar smiles.

I could never mind any part of you. Because being loved by a man like you is a drug. And I’m addicted. I don’t want to get clean.

Because you’re Enzo fucking Valenti.

And at twenty-one, I had no idea just how over my head I was with you until it was too late.

You’re a tornado disguised as a man. A whirlwind that swept me off my feet. You’re a Category five hurricane. Beautiful in the distance. Quiet. Until the storm hits the shore.

Don’t ever change.

Part One

Chapter One

Enzo

If she could have read my mind when I met her, she would have run. I knew those thick thighs belonged to a runner. And I haven’t fucked in a while. Which made me incredibly dangerous to her. My height, tattoos, and big dick energy always drew women in. How was she supposed to know her wrong turn would be the best thing to happen to her?

If she survives me.

A few hours earlier...

I catch Dad in the doorway to my office from the corner of my eye. He likes to drop in once or twice a day to make sure I’m not ripping my hair out, but I was made for this. He never believes I’m fine, though.

“E-boy, I’ll never get used to seeing you in Rob’s old office,” Dad says. I look up from the brightly lit computer screen and raise my eyebrows at him as if to tell him I’ve got it. I adjust the heavy watch on my wrist and sit back in my office chair, filling my office with a creak.

“Dad, it’s been months.”

“I know, but retiring has been fucking boring. Thank God Johnny is bringing our newest grandkid by today.” Every nerve inside me flinches, but my exterior doesn’t show it, aside from my jaw shifting as I grind my teeth.

I’m the oldest, and all of my younger brothers are married and dads now. Including the youngest, who’s only twenty-two—an entire decade younger than me.

There’s something wrong with that.

I’m too picky with women now. I had my fair share of hookups in my twenties, but when I wanted to settle down, I wasted too much time with the wrong girl. Thankfully, she put us both out of our misery. Our relationship was going nowhere, especially after she made her disdain for the marriage and kids known. Call me traditional, but I just want to be a husband.