Flirting with Fire Read online

  He doesn’t see me, and just says “No comment” over his shoulder to the throng of reporters behind him before walking through the glass doors.

  “That must be about that big fire. I know our Lieutenant said the investigation as to the cause is almost wrapped up and they’re supposed to announce the findings soon,” Mauro says next to me.

  My gaze shifts to him because there’s something about his voice…that’s when I notice the flush that usually fills his cheeks is gone.

  “Probably. The DA is my neighbor. That’s him.” I nod in the direction where Reed Warner finds solitude away from the cameras. He doesn’t stop until he’s through security and in the elevator.

  “Good guy?” he asks, his eyes still on the media cluster that would make anyone think they’re following a celebrity, not the district attorney.

  “Really good guy. Did you know—”

  He nods before I finish my question. “He was my buddy.”

  I’d read the articles six months earlier about a horrible fire where a firefighter lost his life. Even saw the funeral procession on the news with shots of a blonde woman with a son in her arms crying as they walked behind the firetruck.

  My hand lands on his forearm, finding his skin cold and clammy and I don’t think it has anything to do with the start of fall in Chicago. “I’m so sorry.”

  My touch seems to shock him back to the present and his gaze darts up to meet my own. All I want to do is hug him to my body, he looks like a newly adopted puppy shaking with anxiety.

  “Hazards of the job.” His hand covers mine. “Thank you though.”

  I slide my hand from his arm realizing that I just touched Mauro Bianco and didn’t freak out.

  The cameramen disperse, some going back to their vans parked along the street, others set up shots for the reporters in front of the building.

  Wherever Mauro’s mind ventured off to must clear. “Breakfast, right? I know just the place,” he says.

  His attention moves across the street and I spot the sandwich shop before he even mentions it.

  “No one makes a breakfast burrito like my mama.” He nods in the direction of his family’s shop.

  I drag my feet. “Are you sure you want to introduce me to your mom?”

  He stops and smiles which is a relief after the look on his face moments ago. “She’ll love you.” He shrugs.

  “Gee, will she approve of our shotgun wedding?” I laugh which spurs Mauro’s amusement.

  “You really are funny.” He stares down at me while we wait for the walk symbol to appear on the streetlight.

  “Thanks.”

  His eyes don’t leave mine and my breathing picks up under his scrutiny. “I think we’re going to make great partners.”

  I turn away first because I need to get a grip. Thankfully the pedestrian walk sign appears and I step off the corner before a hand grabs my upper arm and pulls me back as a blur of yellow streaks by me.

  My back presses against his chest. Firm and strong.

  “Watch it, asshole!” he yells at the cab driver.

  “Thank you.” I untangle from his grip as much as my body protests.

  “No problem.” His hand takes mine and he leads me across the street lightly jogging when the yellow hand replaces the white walking symbol.

  He doesn’t release my hand once we reach the other side of the street, like I assumed he would. Instead, he opens up the door for me to his parents’ sandwich shop and shifts his hand to the small of my back.

  He’s Italian, they’re touchy, I remind myself.

  “Ma!” he yells into the empty restaurant.

  It’s a typical deli where you order and wait for your number to be called. You can have a seat at the long tables with stools along the window or in the booths that line the back wall which is painted in thirds. One with the Chicago fire department symbol, one for the police and another for paramedic. It’s clear to me and their customers that their sons are their life.

  “Mauro?” A woman who is shorter in stature, a little plump with dark, wavy shoulder-length hair emerges from the back, wiping her hands on her white apron that says, My favorite hood is motherhood.

  “Hey, Mama.” He smiles then hugs her and kisses her cheek. She does the same, but her gaze is fixed on where I stand behind him.

  “This a friend?” she asks him in the cutest Italian accent.

  Mauro steps back from his mom, holding his arm out in my direction. “Ma, this is Madison Kelly. Madison, this is my mom, Maria.”

  A warm smile crosses his mom’s lips and her head tilts in a ‘I know you’ gesture. She points her finger at me. “Valedictorian?”

  A warm flush heats my cheeks and Mauro studies me.

  “Luca’s class, right?” she asks.

  “Yes,” I answer sheepishly.

  Her finger moves to Mauro and then back to me. “You two?”

  “No,” I quickly refute.

  Her smile dims. “Oh.” Her eyes shift to Mauro who shrugs like they’re having a conversation between them without words.

  “We’re going to be business partners,” he says after confusion masks her face.

  “Business?” she asks, sliding behind the deli case and sifting through some paperwork.

  “Remember Hunter and I were going to buy a house, fix it up and then sell it?” Mauro approaches the counter, his forearms flexing under the weight of him leaning over so his mom hears him.

  “Yes.” She doesn’t turn around. I can’t help but notice her curt demeanor after I said we weren’t a couple. She rambles something in Italian and Mauro looks over his shoulder at me for a moment.

  He responds back in Italian and before I realize it, she’s turned back around, her voice rising, her face red again.

  “Enough Mama,” Mauro says, his back rod iron straight.

  She tilts her head and I don’t need to understand Italian because her body language says it all. It’s a warning for him to watch how he talks to her.

  “I’m sorry, but this isn’t the time,” he says, slightly chagrined.

  “What is going on?” A man comes out from the back, taking plastic gloves off his hands and throwing them into a trashcan behind the counter.

  “Papa,” Mauro says.

  The man who bears Mauro’s light eyes, Cristian’s nose, and Luca’s mouth seeks the source of the reason for the high voices. “Hello.” He rounds the deli cabinet, his hand already extended to me. “Anthony.”

  “Madison,” I say and shake his hand.

  “I was just telling Mama that Madison and I are going into business together.” Mauro steps to my side, his hand finding the small of my back like he’s presenting me as a gift, or a girlfriend.

  I swallow past the dryness in my mouth and force on a smile that probably looks as awkward as this moment feels.

  “Business?” his dad asks, a crease between his brows.

  “The flipping houses thing? With Hunter…well, Madison already has her own business and we’re going to work together on a house.” His dad smiles down at me. I recognize it as the same smile Luca has, but his eyes are just as mesmerizing as Mauro’s.

  “Congratulations. That’s wonderful news.”

  The deli phone rings. Mauro runs over and answers it before his mom can. He whispers something and hangs up. Again, he and his mom have a silent conversation, their eyes move to me and then back to each other.

  “We’re here for breakfast,” Mauro announces. “Burritos, Mama?”

  She smiles, her hand landing on his cheek as she studies his eyes. With a pat on the cheek, she smiles. “Anything for you.”

  “Non vedo l’ora,” Mauro says.

  His mom smiles and heads to the back.

  “Very nice to meet you, Madison,” Anthony says and follows his wife to the back of the deli.

  Mauro comes over to me, sliding a chair out. “Sorry about the Italian. She’s usually really good about not speaking in Italian when others are around who don’t speak the language, bu
t just hearing Hunter’s name sends her in a tizzy.” Mauro sits in his own chair across from me, legs sprawled out in front of him.

  “That’s okay.”

  I want to ask why that is? Was the partnership bad before he died? Is the fact that he died what angers his mom? There are a million reasons it could be, but it’s none of my business. We need to keep this relationship professional.

  “Your parents are nice.”

  A proud grin forms, revealing a mouth full of sparkling white teeth. “They’re the best.” He taps his fingers on the table. “What about your parents? Do they still live around here?”

  My heart stumbles over a beat when I remember that he didn’t know one key piece of information before we agreed on the partnership. If I were him, I would want to know. I cringe.

  “There’s something I have to tell you.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Mauro

  I notice the panicked look on her face and hear the anxious tone in her voice and my brows draw together.

  “The house we bought is my childhood home.” She presses her lips together, watching me absorb the information.

  My phone vibrates in my pocket before I can ask why she bought her childhood home. Or how it ended up looking like it was previously on an episode of Hoarders. All these questions float in my head while she sheepishly stares at me with her top teeth pressed into her luscious bottom lip.

  God help me, ever since the true Madison Kelly has shown her face, I’ve been trying to talk my dick down from the salute it wants to give her. The teeth on the lip is the last straw.

  Seeing Cailin’s name on the screen causes some internal conflict inside me for the first time since Hunter‘s death. Usually, I’d stop whatever I’m doing to answer her call, but even I’ve noticed that they’re becoming more frequent.

  “Hold on one second.” I pull the phone out of my pocket and head over to the doors. “Hey,” I answer.

  “Are you sleeping? I’m sorry.” Cailin sounds as depressed as she usually does.

  “No. I’m actually...” My eyes wander to Madison who is piling her hair up in a ponytail on top of her head. My mouth waters as the movement exposes her long neck and my lips beg for me to hang up this phone and venture over there for one taste. “I’m at The Sandwich Shop.”

  “Oh, tell your parents I say hello. Devin has been begging to see your mom.”

  “I’m sure she’d like to see him, too.” The small argument we had in front of Madison surfaces in my mind. My mom and what might come out of her mouth would be too unpredictable if I let Cailin and Devin be around her right now.

  “Since you’re out and about anyway, how about a trip to the park with us?” Her tone is more chipper than when I first answered.

  My eyes stay glued on Madison who’s now pulled out a pad of paper and is scrolling through her phone. Her pen zooming along the page at warp speed like her mind is going too fast and her hand can’t keep up.

  “I’m sorry. I’ve got…” I pause because I’m not sure I want Cailin to know what I’m doing. Which is ridiculous because she wouldn’t be upset. She’d probably think it was good or she’d be sad because Hunter was supposed to be a part of this venture with me. “An appointment.”

  Madison’s pen stops and the tension in her shoulders fall.

  “Oh…okay. What about dinner?” Cailin asks.

  I was hoping to sleep through dinner. The only reason I’m still standing is from the pure adrenaline of starting in on this project. For the first time since Hunter’s death, excitement fills my veins. I could kiss Patel for giving me the extra push I needed.

  “Sure. I’ll pick something up on the way over,” I say.

  “No. You’re always spending too much money on us. I’ll make dinner. How about six?”

  “Sure.”

  “Great. Devin will be so excited.”

  My mom comes out from the back, her eyes taking in the situation. The fact I’m on the phone and Madison’s by herself causes Ma to frown, and she shakes her head at me.

  “See you then. Bye.” I click the phone off.

  So what if I’m still a tad scared of my mom. Italian mamas are unpredictable and scary. Don’t judge unless you’ve been raised by one yourself.

  Stuffing my phone into my pocket, I walk to the counter to pick up the burritos, but my mom turns her back on me and walks past me over to the table.

  “I hope you like prosciutto?” she asks Madison. “I wrapped them in foil to stay warm.” Instead of handing them to me, she hands them to Madison.

  “Thank you so much.” Madison drops her pen and reaches to touch my mom’s shoulder in a kind gesture of appreciation.

  My mom’s entire face lights up. “Come back for lunch sometime. What’s your favorite sandwich?”

  Madison looks up to the ceiling thinking. “Honestly, I’m not much of a sandwich person.” She shrugs. “If I had to give you one, I guess turkey?” The way Madison phrases it like a question brings a warm sensation to my heart. She’s honest to a fault. Who knows if she’ll ever see my mom again. She could have said any deli meat, but she didn’t.

  “Anthony will make you a sandwich lover. Come back for lunch someday.” My mom pats her hand and stands.

  “Thank you, Mrs. Bianco.” Madison shoves all her stuff back in her bag and rises from the chair.

  I grab the brown paper bag. “Bye, Mama,” I say.

  “Conosco I miei pollo.” She touches my face again, her thumb gently rubbing my cheek the way she did when I came to her on one of the worst days of my life.

  “I know, Mama.” I glance to Madison who’s granted us privacy and stepped closer to the door. “Business.” I remind her like I did minutes ago after Luca’s one-night stand from this past week called the deli. The guy can’t get his shit together to save his life.

  Her hand falls off my face to my heart. Her fingers drum over the organ.

  Sometimes I wonder if she’d marry us off to any woman as long as it got her closer to grandkids.

  My hand covers hers and I nod. Non-verbally telling her I’ll think about it.

  Although I have no intention to. My body might want Madison Kelly, but she agreed to a business partnership just hours ago. She’ll show me the ropes and I’m not going to jeopardize my future by letting my dick get a say. So, I’ll appease my mama because it will help her sleep at night, but I have no intention of ever letting Madison into my heart. Actually, I may shut that organ down until I’m six feet under at this rate.

  I lean down and kiss my mom’s cheek. “I’ll be by Sunday.”

  She kisses my cheek back.

  “Bye,” Madison says, waving at my mom.

  “Ciao,” she says, the permanent smile plastered to her face.

  “Where are you parked?” I ask Madison.

  “On Dearborn in a parking garage.”

  “I’ll walk you to your car and then get my truck.”

  “I’m fully capable of walking to my car. I’ve done it daily. For years now.”

  I laugh because she’s so much more than the girl I saw on that date. I wish I wouldn’t have done to her what I did at the café, but I can’t help to think that if I didn’t, she would’ve remained quiet and hidden. Whether or not it was me calling her out for letting me win or that she’s just grown more comfortable with me, I can’t deny that her humor and self-confidence is sexy.

  “Yeah, well that’s before you met me. Much to the contrary of what you witnessed on our date, I’m actually a gentleman.”

  She glances at me briefly and rolls her eyes. “Fine. I’ll drive you to your truck after.”

  “Look at that, we’re already compromising. What all great partners do.” I smile, wrapping my arm around her shoulders.

  Her neck strains as her eyes meet mine. “You have no idea how much compromising you’re going to have to do to cater to my ways.”

  “Keep talking dirty, I like it.”

  She jabs me in the ribs and though I may not ever sleep with Madis
on, I think she’d make a killer friend.

  The word friend shouldn’t leave a bitter taste on my tongue though. I don’t need to have been valedictorian of my class to realize that.

  Chapter Twelve

  Madison

  We arrive at my old childhood home but stay by Mauro’s truck to eat our breakfast burritos since it’s gross inside and I’m already fearful I’ll lose the burrito minutes after walking in and dealing with the stench.

  “So, you were saying…this is where you grew up?” he asks, glancing up and down the street instead of at the monstrosity in front of us.

  “Yeah, when we were in high school…not that you knew me, so it’s not really we, but you know what I mean.”

  “I knew you,” he says probably out of obligation.

  “You don’t have to pretend you did. I’m fully aware of our differences.”

  He bites into his burrito, a low satisfactory moan leaking out of him. It makes me wish I pulled those sounds from him.

  “I’m not sure I understand what you’re talking about.” He sips on the iced coffee he stopped to pick up on the way over.

  “Mauro, you were captain of the football team and I was captain of the geek squad.”

  “There’s a captain?” He winks.

  “Hardy har har. If we’re going into this, I need you to know a few things.”

  “You’re the woman American Psycho and you’re going to seek your revenge and kill me?” He devours half of his burrito when I’m only a quarter into mine.

  “No. The night we saw each other at the auction, I might’ve been a little awestruck.”

  God, this is embarrassing, but I need him to know I am not some dork that he can push around.

  “I thought maybe you saw me as Ogre and couldn’t stand to look at my face.”

  He’s smirking when I glance up from my burrito. If I’m going to tell him this I have to look him in the eyes, so he respects me.

  “No, that’s not why. A person like you is probably used to always having the advantage. Having people cower down and listen to you because…well…you’re really attractive and attractive people usually get what they want fairly easily.”