Outside, the sun shines down on us, and we make our way to the waiting car by the side of the building.
It’s in the moment I’m almost pressed against the car door with all three men surrounding me like a shield that it hits me. We’re out in public, with a crazy guy out there who seems to think I’m his. Is that why Zeno and Ash are here? For extra protection?
Matteo has kept me so busy that it feels like forever ago when he received those pictures of us. And all the training and wedding talk and preparation had me distracted that it slipped my mind, right until this minute.
Now, my heart races at the possibility that someone could be here to harm, not just me, but also Matteo. They senthimthe pictures. He was the one they threatened.
I tug on his hand. “Can we go, please?”
His gaze finds mine immediately, his brows furrowing as he gets a good look at my probably panic-stricken face. He doesn’t ask any questions, only nods his head. “Sure.”
Turning back to Ash and Zeno—who now wear the same worried expression as Matteo—he says, “I’ll call you later.”
They nod and try to give me a reassuring smile, at least Ash does, but even he fails miserably.
Matteo opens the car door, and we both slide inside the cool space.
Now that we aren’t out in the open anymore, I let out a sigh of relief.
The car moves, and Matteo squeezes my hand that he still hasn’t let go of. “It shouldn’t take long to get home, passerotta.”
This is his way of telling me that he wants to know exactly what’s going on once we’re safely back at the apartment.
Home.
His home.
My home.
Ourhome.
What if something had happened to him while we were out there? A second husband dead on my wedding day?
My eyes burn, and my chest physically hurts at the thought, since it would hit differently this time.
The cityscape passes by without me noticing much of what’s going on. Matteo’s phone rings, and his hand stiffens in mine as he listens to whatever is being said on the line, only grunting a few times and ending the phone call with a “Yes,” the moment we drive into the parking garage of his building.
Matteo pulls me out of the car and into the elevator, and in less than two minutes, we’re inside the apartment and he’s engaging the security system behind us.
He spins me around, his large body pressing me against the wall, and cups my face with both of his large palms. “Talk to me.”
Three words. It only takes those three words for moisture to build in my eyes.
I inhale deeply and shake my head. “It’s nothing, I promise.”
“I want your nothings just as much as everything else.”
“It’s silly.” Lifting my lids to meet his gaze, I chew on the inside of my cheek. “I kind of forgot about the threat out there, and the second I remembered it, I got worried something might happen to you.”
The change in his expression is almost instantaneous. The frown disappears, and though he’s not smiling, he doesn’t seem concerned anymore either.
His thumbs rub over my cheeks. “I don’t want you to worry about me, passerotta.”
“But I do, okay?” The words shoot out of my mouth.
Matteo leans in and presses his lips to mine. This kiss is different from any other kiss we’ve shared before. He doesn’t try to dive into my mouth with his tongue, or anything else. It’s as if he wanted to say thank you, and this is the language he chooses to express it.
His phone beeps, but he ignores it and draws back.