Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 75683 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75683 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
I have to admit that I was so used to seeing a gun at his hip, that I didn’t even clock it.
Until Savannah was suddenly shoving me with everything in her and yelling out that he had a gun.
I watched as if in slow motion as all the men turned, eyes wide. Surprise, then confusion, then understanding.
My gaze went with theirs as they turned to look at Savannah who was still standing over me, frozen in place, but now her hand was pressing into her hip.
“It’s okay,” I called, voice soft.
“He has a gun!” she whisper-yelled to me, eyes panicked, a little wild.
“Hey, sweetheart, it’s alright,” I said, pushing up.
“Stay down,” she hissed, her gaze on Massimo.
Things clicking, Massimo raised both of his hands in front of him. “Nino is my brother, babe,” he said, voice coaxing.
“Wait… what?” Savannah asked, head twisting to look between us.
I watched as recognition dawned. There was no denying our family resemblance.
“That’s Massimo, sweetheart,” I said.
“Massimo. With the wine,” she recalled.
“Yeah, babe, that’s me,” Massimo said, nodding.
“Oh, I’m so sorry,” she said, eyes going round. “God, you guys must think I’m a lunatic.”
“Lunatic?” Mass asked, brows pinching. “No, babe. I think you just tried to save my brother for a second time.”
“You hurt your side,” I murmured, but she wasn’t listening.
“Don’t give me too much credit,” Savannah said, shaking her head. “I wasn’t being brave. It was just… instinct.”
“Yeah, I heard you said that about the last time,” Massimo said. “Think maybe it happening twice says you are, by instinct, brave.”
“Savannah,” I called, voice a little firmer. “Your side,” I repeated, noticing she was pressing harder.
When she didn’t move her hand, I reached out to do it myself, seeing a hint of red peeking through her shirt.
“Oh. Oh, that’s not good,” she said, looking a little pale.
“It’s fine,” I told her, giving the guys a look, then stepping in front of her to block their view as I pulled up her shirt.
“Do I need to go to urgent care?” Savannah asked, making it sound like she’d rather get a tooth pulled without novocaine.
“No. I can treat this back at your place,” I said, pulling her shirt back down. “I’m sure Savannah would love to meet all of you—“
“And put faces to the embarrassing stories he has told me about all of you,” Savannah piped in, getting a smirk out of Lucky and Luca.
“And that,” I agreed. “But I’m gonna go treat this wound.”
“It was nice to, ah, meet you,” Savannah said as I led her away. “I hope you will find other ways to describe me other than ‘crazy,’” she called before I pulled her outside. “Oh, my God,” she yelped as soon as the doors were closed behind us.
“What? Does it hurt?”
“The humiliation? Yes, with the fire of a thousand suns,” she said, letting out a little whimpering sound. “Your family probably thinks I’m a freaking loon. And, I mean, fine. I did spend a whole year of my life in a hippie commune where we bathed naked in the stream under the full moon. But, you know, like, not slippy socks crazy stuff.”
I couldn’t help it.
The smile broke out and spread across my face.
“Sweetheart, if anything you just got even more admiration out of them.”
“Yes, very admirable. Scream like a banshee that someone has a gun whilst shoving a guy to the ground.”
“Hey,” I said, reaching out, framing her face with both my hands. The touch immediately silenced her as her gaze slid up to find mine. “You thought you were saving me from a bullet again, sweetheart. No one thinks you’re crazy for that. Least of all my family. Okay?”
“Okay,” she agreed, voice small and airless. And, fuck, if her lips weren’t just begging to be kissed right about then. The desire to do it was almost fucking overpowering.
But she was bleeding through her damn shirt.
And I was trying to keep shit friendly.
“Come on. We have to go take a look at that hip,” I said, scooping her up even more carefully than before, reminding myself that, no, she didn’t fit perfectly in my arms like she was meant to be there, that her smell wasn’t the single most intoxicating thing that I’d ever breathed in, and that I couldn’t just lean down, seal my lips over hers, and say ‘fuck it’ to my plan to keep repaying her for saving my life.
The ride back to her place was unusually silent. Savannah was typically a talker. And if she wasn’t happily chatting about something we’d seen or some story about what happened at work, she was asking questions, engaging me.
It was strange for it to be so quiet.
Even as we walked into her house, me stooping down to pick up the next meal train meal one of my aunts had dropped off, then to her bathroom, as she let me help her remove her shirt.