Last Words (Morelli Family, #7) by Sam Mariano

Author:Sam Mariano [Mariano, Sam]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2017-11-29T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eight

Vince

“I have an idea, but you’re going to think it’s crazy.”

I reluctantly open one eye and squint up at the cheerful blonde disturbance, dressed and ready for the day as she takes a seat on the edge of her bed. We stayed up way too late watching crap TV last night, so I just crashed at her place. It was her idea, I was too tired to argue, and now here we are.

Her blonde hair is pulled up in a high pony tail and she’s wearing tight jeans that make her ass look incredible with an off-white, super soft sweater. She’s always wearing sweaters that make you want to touch her.

“If the idea is I sleep some more, I’m on board,” I tell her, rolling over with my back to her so I can pull a pillow on top of my head and block out the light.

“Nope, that’s not my idea.” Since I rolled over and put a bunch of space there, Carly climbs over and straddles my back. Her bedroom is hot as hell so I peeled my shirt off before I went to bed. Now she runs her hands over the tattoos she’s never seen before, her train of thought redirected. “Ooh, I like these.”

“Yeah?” I murmur.

“Mmhmm, they’re sexy. Do they mean something, or do you just like them?”

I sigh heavily, since she’s not going to let me sleep. “They mean things.”

Running the tip of her index finger across my left shoulder blade, she reads, “This one says ‘worth it.’ What’s that mean?”

“You won’t like it,” I warn her.

“Tell me anyway.”

Sighing again, I explain, “When Mateo kills me, I may not see it coming. I wanted to get the last word in, so I put a last ‘fuck you’ on my body. It means, basically, I’m not sorry for all the shit I did to make him want to kill me, that it was all worth it if it made him that angry.”

Carly snorts. “Of course it does. You’re so crazy. I’m going to predict someday it will mean something different for you. Someday this same tattoo will mean all the shit you went through with them was worth it, because now you have Bandit, a house with friends to come to your cook-outs, and probably a really cool girlfriend who makes bomb-ass spaghetti sauce.”

I grin, burying my face in the pillow.

Carly moves along, trailing her soft hand across my other shoulder blade. “What about this one?”

That one is two playing cards, a bloody king of hearts with a blood-spattered Ace of hearts on top of it. “More symbolic bullshit,” I tell her. “Aces beat kings.”

“Gotcha. Your bar name, Wild Aces, that have a little bit to do with this?”

“Maybe.”

Now her hand moves to the center of my back and she rubs the black M with twisted, thorny vines wrapped around the letter. “And this one?”

“The curse of being born a Morelli,” I tell her, simply.

Now she runs her hands down my back, then leans down and flattens herself against me.

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