of the restaurants.”
Call nodded. “And?”
“And...I feel like they dropped a hint about their family. Like giving me the impression that I should be wary of them. I think this person is trying to tell me that they’re... you know. Connected .”
Cal laughed, throwing his head back.
Brendan grinned, shrugging. “Is that funny?”
“And is this person of Italian descent?”
Brendan nodded. “Very much so.”
Cal set his whisky on the coffee table. “Let me tell you something about Providence, especially Little Italy up there. Every Italian around here claims they’ve got some connection to the mob. I’m not saying some of those guys aren’t still running rackets up there. But most of the folks you meet will pretend to be Michael Corleone whether they are or not.”
Brendan frowned. “Really?”
“Look at the names of the establishments. Wise Guys Liquors ? The cafés play the theme from The Godfather as they serve up cannoli and espresso to the customers. Organized crime has become a tourist attraction for this city. People think it’s cute and charming. So the locals use it to their advantage.”
“Huh.” Brendan took a sip of his drink. “So you’re saying I probably shouldn’t worry that my love interest is going to whack me in my sleep.”
Cal raised an eyebrow. “First it was a person . Now it’s a love interest? I shouldn’t be surprised with your looks. But damn Brendan, you’ve been here what, a week?” He chuckled. “Give yourself a chance to adjust before you start bedding mobsters’ daughters.”
Brendan laughed softly. “Yeah. You’re probably right.”
He felt no compulsion to confess that it was a man who’d caught his eye, not a woman. He had no idea how his father would feel about that, and telling Cal would be like coming out to his whole family. He wasn’t ready for that, even if Marc weren’t engaged and elusive and kind of an asshole who he wasn’t even sure liked him.
“I’ve got to get home,” Cal said, standing. “Rhonda and I will have you over soon for dinner, okay?”
Brendan stood and Cal caught him in a bear hug, lifting him off the floor, nearly cracking his spine. “Okay!” he croaked.
Cal put him down and ruffled his hair. “Be good. See you soon. Thanks for the drink.”
Brendan walked him to the door. “Thanks for the plant. And for everything, Cal.”
“You bet, kid. Take care.”
****
Brendan bathed and changed into jeans and a tee shirt. He’d normally be lounging around in pajama pants by now, but if Marc was coming by, he wanted to appear a bit more modest.
If he’s coming by.
He put on some music and paced the loft, trying to fight off the notion that he was a big, gullible idiot. Considering his prior interactions with the man, there was no reason to be assured Marc would even call. Brendan wasn’t a pushover. He had dignity. But he was feeling rather undignified at the moment. Never had he been so fascinated by a single person. His logic told him it was ridiculous, but his heart couldn’t stop longing for Marc. And it wasn’t just his body or his gorgeous face. Brendan just... liked him. He liked his smile. He liked that he had a rainforest room in his apartment. He liked the way he spoke, the words he chose, even when they were infuriatingly vague.
Even when they were insulting.
Brendan wasn’t stupid, and he’d never been one to put up with someone else’s shit. He wouldn’t normally be willing to pursue someone with so many obvious strikes against him. And Marc certainly had plenty: The fiancée, his odd, fluctuating cruelty, his secretiveness. So why was Brendan throwing caution to the wind with this guy, when he knew better?
Because of the way he looks at me . Brendan knew when someone liked him, and he could see it in Marc’s eyes, even when he was being a prick. Those brown eyes softened when they looked at Brendan, something unspoken and real behind the façade.
He considered calling one of his
Call nodded. “And?”
“And...I feel like they dropped a hint about their family. Like giving me the impression that I should be wary of them. I think this person is trying to tell me that they’re... you know. Connected .”
Cal laughed, throwing his head back.
Brendan grinned, shrugging. “Is that funny?”
“And is this person of Italian descent?”
Brendan nodded. “Very much so.”
Cal set his whisky on the coffee table. “Let me tell you something about Providence, especially Little Italy up there. Every Italian around here claims they’ve got some connection to the mob. I’m not saying some of those guys aren’t still running rackets up there. But most of the folks you meet will pretend to be Michael Corleone whether they are or not.”
Brendan frowned. “Really?”
“Look at the names of the establishments. Wise Guys Liquors ? The cafés play the theme from The Godfather as they serve up cannoli and espresso to the customers. Organized crime has become a tourist attraction for this city. People think it’s cute and charming. So the locals use it to their advantage.”
“Huh.” Brendan took a sip of his drink. “So you’re saying I probably shouldn’t worry that my love interest is going to whack me in my sleep.”
Cal raised an eyebrow. “First it was a person . Now it’s a love interest? I shouldn’t be surprised with your looks. But damn Brendan, you’ve been here what, a week?” He chuckled. “Give yourself a chance to adjust before you start bedding mobsters’ daughters.”
Brendan laughed softly. “Yeah. You’re probably right.”
He felt no compulsion to confess that it was a man who’d caught his eye, not a woman. He had no idea how his father would feel about that, and telling Cal would be like coming out to his whole family. He wasn’t ready for that, even if Marc weren’t engaged and elusive and kind of an asshole who he wasn’t even sure liked him.
“I’ve got to get home,” Cal said, standing. “Rhonda and I will have you over soon for dinner, okay?”
Brendan stood and Cal caught him in a bear hug, lifting him off the floor, nearly cracking his spine. “Okay!” he croaked.
Cal put him down and ruffled his hair. “Be good. See you soon. Thanks for the drink.”
Brendan walked him to the door. “Thanks for the plant. And for everything, Cal.”
“You bet, kid. Take care.”
****
Brendan bathed and changed into jeans and a tee shirt. He’d normally be lounging around in pajama pants by now, but if Marc was coming by, he wanted to appear a bit more modest.
If he’s coming by.
He put on some music and paced the loft, trying to fight off the notion that he was a big, gullible idiot. Considering his prior interactions with the man, there was no reason to be assured Marc would even call. Brendan wasn’t a pushover. He had dignity. But he was feeling rather undignified at the moment. Never had he been so fascinated by a single person. His logic told him it was ridiculous, but his heart couldn’t stop longing for Marc. And it wasn’t just his body or his gorgeous face. Brendan just... liked him. He liked his smile. He liked that he had a rainforest room in his apartment. He liked the way he spoke, the words he chose, even when they were infuriatingly vague.
Even when they were insulting.
Brendan wasn’t stupid, and he’d never been one to put up with someone else’s shit. He wouldn’t normally be willing to pursue someone with so many obvious strikes against him. And Marc certainly had plenty: The fiancée, his odd, fluctuating cruelty, his secretiveness. So why was Brendan throwing caution to the wind with this guy, when he knew better?
Because of the way he looks at me . Brendan knew when someone liked him, and he could see it in Marc’s eyes, even when he was being a prick. Those brown eyes softened when they looked at Brendan, something unspoken and real behind the façade.
He considered calling one of his
Similar Books
