All He Needs: A MMM Romance (My Truth Book 1) by Ann Grech

Author:Ann Grech [Grech, Ann]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781925853094
Publisher: Hot Tree Publishing
Published: 2019-02-08T18:30:00+00:00

Chapter Eight

Riccardo

I watched him leave, taking a piece of my heart with him.

Mason stepped close and held out his arms, waiting for me to step into his embrace. I looked at him, really took in the man before me. Physically, he was gorgeous. Tall and strong, lean muscle and a sculpted face that was far too pretty for his own good. Didn’t matter what was on the outside, though—his heart was far more beautiful than any looks could ever be. I wrapped myself around him, resting my face against his shoulder. Nuzzling him, I breathed Mason in and held tight as I fought back tears.

Caden wasn’t going to come to New Zealand. I knew that. Mason knew it too, and I gathered Caden did as well, if the pain radiating from him was any indication. I’d help as long as I could, as long as he’d let me. It wouldn’t be easy to persuade him, especially not if what I feared came to pass. Waiting for Caden to tell us we were over before we’d even had a chance to experience “us” was like standing before the executioner.

Gracie’s cry had me trying to pull away from the security of Mason’s arms. “Let me get her,” he whispered against my temple, and suddenly, even in his embrace, I felt very alone. He wasn’t choosing her over me—I knew that logically—but it didn’t help knowing that I’d be the one walking away, alone in the very near future.

“Go,” I rasped, my voice thick from the lump lodged firmly in my throat. Trying to swallow around it, I pushed out of his arms and moved to the side of the corridor, allowing him to pass. When I was alone again, I looked to the front door, the direction Caden had traveled. He was long gone.

Anger, frustration, and a hell of a lot of desperation rose in me like floodwaters, threatening to drown me. I needed to do something, anything to get the emotions out before I did. A punching bag would’ve been ideal, weights even better, but Caden didn’t have either.

Gravitating to the kitchen, I reached for the potatoes and the peeler. Cooking was a comfort for me, a reminder of the home I’d left long ago in search of adventure. Mama had passed on her nonna’s family recipe for gnocchi, and I’d memorized it before I’d even hit my teens.

I tried not to slam cupboards as I looked for a pot big enough to boil water in to cook the potatoes, but I didn’t succeed. Finally finding it, I yanked it out of the cabinet with more force than necessary and pressed it into the sink. White-knuckling the pot, I breathed deep and tried to cool my temper. I wasn’t angry—I was powerless and scared. And knowing that terrified me even more. If I was hurting now, how bad was it going to be when this went to shit?

Taking a deep breath, I ground my teeth together and filled the pot halfway before moving it to the stove top.

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