Exploding: A Mafia Romance (The O'Keefe Family Collection #1) Page 7

  Vince reached out and picked up a pastry, licking the cream from the side to test Fallyn’s skill of something he was well-versed in. “You made cannoli?”

  “With caramel dipping sauce.” Fallyn cast Vince a sugary smile, daring him to voice a reason why he wouldn’t try it. “You have to taste it with the cannoli. I made it special just for you two.”

  Vince saw the playful challenge in her eyes and fought back a grin that accompanied the rush of attraction he’d been trying to explain away since he’d had her pressed up against him. “The cannoli’s perfect as it is. Didn’t know you knew how to bake like this. Very good, Little Keefer.”

  She narrowed her eyes at him. “If you don’t want to offend me and upset my brother, you’ll try the caramel. I daresay my patrons might be watching, so make a good show of how much the D’Amatos love their cannolis when they’re made by Irish girls.”

  Killian chuckled at Fallyn’s stubborn streak. He took a large bite after dipping it in the sauce and groaned. “This is awesome, Fally.”

  “I know.” She waited for Vince to dip his cannoli and take a bite, grinning at the squirm he tried to conceal while he chewed slowly.

  “It’s real good,” Vince allowed, taking another bite. “Thanks for this. I know you probably don’t usually make cannoli.”

  “Made it special for our special guests.” She surprised them both by pulling up a chair and sitting next to her brother. “I trust you’re here to talk about how to build a better alliance for our families?”

  Vince sized her up before nodding once, taking in her gall with a tightness to his lips. No one dared to sit down with the heads of the families uninvited. The last person who had sat at Vince’s table without invitation had been taken into the back alley and beaten so badly, he still walked with a limp. A woman who had been watching the exchange snatched her children up and all but ran out of the store. Vince took in the climate of fear that was steadily rising in the bakery. “We are. Why don’t you join us, Little Keefer? Do you have something to say about the alliance?”

  “I do. I had an idea.” She had been waiting to give her pitch since it hit her in the middle of the night. “Would it help if I had a shelf in my case featuring desserts from La Cucina Italia or Cesca’s Eatery? Either one of your restaurants is fine by me. I can even post a sign. I’d buy them from you at wholesale and sell them here. Then you’ll be able to market in neutral territory. In an O’Keefe business, no less. I think that sends a pretty strong message to the families and the public.”

  Vince was motionless as he stared at her, weighing the pros and cons in silence from his leaned-back position in his chair, as was his usual style. When the silence passed the minute mark, Killian started to speak to fill the void, but Fallyn held up her hand, not breaking eye contact with Vince. She’d seen her father do this for years with Papa D. It was their way. They took a few minutes to think in silence, daring the other side to ramble and show their hand.

  “I think that would be okay. Bold move, but maybe it’s what we need.”

  “Good. Now, it’s strictly business, so if your desserts aren’t moving well, you won’t read into it if the deal changes down the road. I can swing a hundred bucks a day to start. You can pick what you send, so long as it’s not something I already sell.”

  “Then you’ll have to take cannoli off your menu.”

  Fallyn stood, staring down at him with a look of daring in her eye. “If you want me to do that, you’ll have to make a better cannoli than I do. I’m willing to go to the mat that mine are better. Time to up your game, D’Amato.”

  Killian stopped breathing at his sister’s moxie while he waited for the shift in the conversation to settle. Things were so tense between their families, and he wasn’t sure how small the offense had to be to upend the rocking boat. He relaxed when Vince finally let out a deep chuckle and shook Fallyn’s hand. “You’ve got yourself a deal, Little Keefer. We appreciate you extending the offer. May it be the first of many times our families work together instead of fight each other.”

  “I’ll leave you to your meeting, then. Have a good talk, gentlemen. I’ll go take some of the best cannolis in the world out to your boys.” She spun on her heel when Killian dove right in to start a conversation about one of Vince’s men stepping out of line.

  Fallyn brought out a plate of treats to the men in black dress pants and white shirts with the token map of Italy silver belt buckles. They stood outside her store like bouncers, their grim expressions scaring passersby. “Angelo, I brought you something. Tony, here you go.”

  “Thanks, Little Keefer. You’re looking good.” Tony was the middle child in the D’Amato family. Fallyn had spent her childhood trying to catch up with the ten years he had on her. Tony usually had only two emotions: good-natured and deadly irritable. Fallyn had seen him turn on a dime, so she made sure to tread lightly in her stilettos.

  Angelo glanced over his shoulder through the picture window to silently ask if he should eat something from the enemy establishment. When Vince nodded, Angelo took a cannoli, dipping it in the caramel sauce. He watched Fallyn’s innocent eyes as he took a bite, his scarred face expressionless. Fallyn always guessed that when Keenan’s bullet grazed Angelo’s cheek, it took away his ability to smile. He was stuck on perma-scowl, so Fallyn didn’t press him too hard. She gave Angelo his space, tipping her head to him politely. He was the D’Amato family’s cousin, and served as the silent serpent who carried out most of the dark deeds in the middle of the night. They all had the bulk and the black heart for it, but Angelo’s soul had always seemed a shade darker.

  She knew as she walked back into the kitchen to help Rina chip away at the massive orders, that while a truce was a necessary thing, it would take more than a sit-down with cannoli to make it stick.

  11

  Not the Mafia

  Fallyn was sweating from all the back and forth required in unloading the delivery van. She’d wanted to get her own for the store, but Killian insisted it was an expense she didn’t need to incur with how infrequently she would use it. He had loaned her his delivery truck, and she cringed as she recalled seeing bound or bagged bodies in various corners once upon a time. “I got the rest,” Seamus insisted, taking the extra lifting as a challenge. “You get on inside. Danny put you down as his plus one so you could rub elbows with the up and ups, make connections and whatnot.”

  “I’m hardly dressed for a party,” she argued, motioning to her black sweatpants and fitted green shirt.

  “Jen stashed one of your fancy dresses back here somewhere.” Seamus cast around, nearly hitting his head on the ceiling as he looked through the truck’s contents. “Here you go.”

  Fallyn took the dress and heels, locating a bathroom to change in. The law firm had money to spare, and it showed in the gold light fixtures, the lavish faucets and the too-large empty vase that served as a focal point for the ladies’ room. Fallyn’s stomach churned as she ran through the possible scenarios where James might make their impending date night known, and the evening would end in a mess of cake and threat of bloodshed.

  The cupcake display was massive, taking up a whole table. She had piped a large ornate flower in natural garden hues atop each cupcake, so the whole table looked like a lavish garden ripe for the picking. She set up the five-tiered cake with the company’s logo atop, instructing the staff how to serve it. The golden tower of assorted pastries were a bounty that caught everyone’s eye as they walked through the door when the event began in the grand banquet room. The vaulted ceilings had dimly lit gold chandeliers and white tapestries, giving everything and everyone a romantic glow to their skin.

  Fallyn searched the incoming party-goers for her brother, but when a wide smile caught her eye, she blushed under James’ scrutiny. He made his way over to her in his gray suit, standing with appreciation before the cupcake table so he could speak to her without incurring the drama and wrath of her brother. “I didn’t know you would be here tonight. You look… I think you
should make that little black number part of the bakery’s uniform.”

  She examined the black gauzy material that hugged her sensuous curves on top and then belled below the slope of her hips. “You would look fetching in this. I’ll save it for you to wear the next time you serve coffee for me.”

  James chuckled, and the quiet sound could barely be heard above the Sinatra playing from the DJ stand. “Man, I like you. Been thinking a lot about tomorrow night, but I knew I couldn’t wait until then to see you. That you’re here now? It’s a mercy. Saves me from showing up to your shop at random, hoping to catch a glimpse of you.”

  “Well, I hired three more people since I saw you last, so I don’t have to be at the shop at all hours of the day. I can take time off to do this sort of thing, and you know, go on the occasional date.”

  “You’re absolutely breathtaking. Tonight and when you’re covered in flour. I—”

  James was interrupted by Danny bounding up to his sister. “Hey, kiddo! Look at you, all dressed up and out of the shop. Looks good on you.”

  Fallyn grinned up at the brother who was closest to her in age, though he was eight years older than her still. “Thanks, Danny. This was a nice surprise, you having me come to the party as your plus one. I haven’t been out in a while. Started to forget what social events felt like.”

  He turned toward the desserts with wide eyes. “Fal, you really outdid yourself. This looks amazing!” He turned to the person nearest him, which just so happened to be James. “Mr. Jensen, good to see you. Danny O’Keefe. I work on the second floor. My sister’s the one who catered the desserts tonight. Don’t they look amazing?”

  James shook Danny’s hand with a relaxed smile. “You don’t say. Miss, these look incredible. I was just thinking to myself that I had to have the person who made these cater a private party I’m hosting on Sunday. Do you do that sort of thing?”

  Fallyn swallowed, hoping her culpability wouldn’t be seen by her brother. “I do. Let me give you my number.” She opened her pink purse to give him a card she knew he didn’t actually need.

  Danny was grinning from ear to ear at having secured his sister a new client. Having James Jensen book a party had the potential to start a trickle effect, which would mean consecutive gigs for Fallyn that could keep her business afloat for years.

  James patted his pockets. “I don’t have a pen, and there are actually a few dates I have in mind for you. I’d prefer to get that out of the way before the party really starts.” His words carried meaning, but his expression remained professional, if not pleasantly bland. “Could I borrow your sister for a few minutes to run up to my office to get her information? Put a few things down on the calendar? Danny, was it?”

  “Of course!” Danny didn’t bat an eye as Fallyn followed James out to the hall and into the elevator.

  The second the elevator closed, Fallyn gusted out a breath and pressed her hand to her chest to still the unnatural thrumming of her heart. “I can’t believe you just did that! That was ballsy. I mean, I’m impressed.”

  James reached out and held her hand, drawing her close. “I’ve been thinking about you. Can’t get you out of my head. That doesn’t happen to me very often.”

  When the elevator dinged, she shot away from him, walking a respectable distance from his side as he led the way to his office. When his assistant stood to greet him, he raised his hand to wave her off. “Go on down to the party, Penny. I’ll be there soon.” James led Fallyn into his office, locking the door behind them before turning with desire lighting his features to take in her form he hadn’t been able to properly comment on before. “You look… I don’t know what’s appropriate to say. Are we at the point where I’m allowed to verbally lust over you yet?”

  The rush of lying to her brother and getting away with it pounded in Fallyn’s veins. She had only kissed one man in her life, and desperately wanted to know what James’ lips tasted like. “Kiss me,” she begged as she rested her purse on his desk, unable to keep the wanton longing from her voice.

  In the next breath, she was in James’ arms. Her head spun as she let herself get caught up in a moment she was certain would lead them down a rabbit hole she would have to leave breadcrumbs to escape. His lips felt warm on hers, needy and greedy as he squeezed her waist and traced his thumb up her side. She loved when he whispered her name between kisses like a plea for her to not sweep him completely away with one of her breathy moans she couldn’t fully trap inside. When he sucked on her lower lip, she groaned with pleasure as she arched her back, her breasts pressing against him. Her brother was right downstairs, and she felt the scandal in every kiss.

  James led her to the couch, collapsing and bringing her down to straddle his lap so he could more fully appreciate every inch she made available to him. She could tell he was tempering his movements so he didn’t undress her in the next breath. Her body warmed to his advances. It had been so long since she’d been thoroughly kissed. His lips dragged down her neck, sucking on a delicious dip that was so elegant, she felt like he was painting her with his tongue. It was when he gently tugged on the flesh with his teeth that Fallyn broke them out of their haze.

  “We have to stop! This is all wrong. I’m not… This isn’t me. And Danny’s right downstairs. I…” She disentangled herself and hurriedly smoothed out her dress, surprised at the state of disarray she’d been reduced to. “Did you leave a mark?” she asked, touching her neck on the spot where he’d bitten her.

  James motioned her to come back to him. “Let me see.” He pulled her back down on his lap, but this time he pulled both her legs to the side on the couch next to him, so she was more ladylike and less exposed. He collected himself as he examined her neck. “No. No marks. Sorry. I think I got a little carried away. You’re so beautiful.”

  Fallyn held his hand and played with his fingers as she relaxed, propped up in his other arm. She leaned her head on his shoulder, exhaling at how very light she felt in his arms. He was sweet to her, flirty and kind in equal measure, and she felt herself tiptoeing on the ledge of falling for him. “I like you,” she decided.

  “I very much like you.” He kissed her again, unable to go an entire minute of being near her and not tasting her mouth.

  Fallyn’s phone rang, and she knew who it was before she even answered. She pulled the device from her purse with a heavy sigh. “I would ignore it, but then he’ll come looking for me.” She put the phone to her ear and chirped, “Hi, Danny. Be down in a few.” Then she hung up, lest her brother hear any breathiness in the exchange.

  James twirled a lock of her hair so he could examine the autumn hue of the strands. “Can I ask you a personal question?”

  Fallyn slowly turned her attention back to him. “You can try.”

  “The other day when your purse fell on the sidewalk, I saw a gun in there. Why do you have to carry a gun? I mean, I know it’s your right, but it’s a bold choice that usually has a story behind it.”

  Fallyn exhaled slowly, pulling out the small weapon from her pink handbag to show to him. “My last name’s O’Keefe. My daddy’s the head of the Irish business on the east end of the city.” She cringed as James’ eyes widened in revelation. “Yup, that O’Keefe. The D’Amatos are the Italian crowd who run the west end, and our fathers didn’t get along for many years. Turned into a turf war that got ugly for a long time. The gun’s for my protection if the Italians venture into our territory.”

  James’ mouth fell open. “Irish business? You’re part of that mafia family?”

  Fallyn glanced over her shoulder to make sure the door was still locked. “Not mafia. Daddy doesn’t like that word. Just two families with a lot of influence.”

  “I know the O’Keefe Loan and Trust. That’s you?”

  “My daddy and brother, but yeah. That’s us. We own lots of businesses on the east end.”

  “I thought it was just the one. And I thought the crime was dropping on the east end over the past few years.”

  “It is. The
heads of the two families are good at their jobs. They keep things quiet, and so long as people stick to their own sides, it doesn’t affect the rest of the world too much. Most of the fights end with no witnesses. Plus, most of our businesses aren’t done with our names broadcasted. We learned that with the Loan and Trust. It’s not the O’Keefe Bakery. You’d be surprised if you knew how deep and wide it all went. I’m talking decades of reach here.” She tucked the gun away and scratched the back of her neck. “This isn’t exactly the kind of sexy talk I was hoping for.”

  “I’m sorry. I just know so little about your serious side.”

  Fallyn nodded, snuggling back into his arms. “I’ll tell you what. If you make it to our date tomorrow, I can tell you more. Not everything, but more. You should know what you’re getting yourself into.” Her shoulders suddenly felt weighted with the duties of her world that she had hoped to escape, but now knew she couldn’t.

  “Now I’m worried about you. If things are so bad that you have to carry a weapon, that can’t be good.”

  She waved off his concern. “I barely have to use it anymore.”

  “Anymore? Jeez, Fallyn! What am I stepping into here?”

  “I’m the only girl in both families, so my brothers are overprotective, and the D’Amatos give me a wide berth. Messing with me would be the thing that sets off the war that never ends, and they all know it. The boys can get pretty bloody with each other, but Papa D and Daddy had an understanding that I wasn’t to be a part of it. That’s why I was allowed to open up my bakery in neutral territory. If my brothers ever tried to open a business there, it would be a big problem.” She stood up, straightening her hair with a resigned expression in place. “Look, I get that this is a lot. That’s why I said no when you asked me out before. But our families are starting to make peace finally, and I’m twenty-five. I can’t be a nun for them.” She picked up her purse. “I’ll be at the Mexican Vila tomorrow night. You sleep on it. Give the whole thing some thought. If you show up, I’ll tell you whatever you want to know, within reason. If not, I completely understand. No hard feelings.”