When He Desires: A Dark Mafia Romance (Fallen God Book 1)
When He Desires: Chapter 36

Christmas Eve.

Sam, Rowan, and I are in the kitchen working on a dinner that’s shaping up to be a real Italian feast.

Rowan’s on pasta duty, stirring lamb ragù in a giant stainless steel pot. Sam’s arranging the cheese and cold cuts he got from some specialty store in Kansas City on a wooden board and layering fresh mozzarella on top of the caprese salad. I’ve been put in charge of the garlic bread.

Christmas tunes filter in from the speaker in the living room. We even got a tree this morning and hung up some of the old decorations I found in my shed the other day.

I slice the baguette, careful not to cut all the way through, and spread a generous mixture of butter, garlic, and herbs in between each slice. I pop it into the oven to bake, and the warm scent of garlic fills the kitchen, mingling with the fragrant aroma of Rowan’s lamb ragù simmering on the stove.

“More wine?” Sam asks, lifting one of the bottles of red he brought over.

“Sure.”

He refills my glass and then tops off his own. “How’s it been this week at work?”

“Not bad, actually. Brett’s been out the past couple of days, which helps a lot.” Carly told me he’s visiting someone in Kansas City. He has a bunch of friends there from his college days. I’m not looking forward to seeing him when I go back to work the day after Christmas.

“I went over to take a look at the house this morning. Your guys are making good progress.”

Sam smiles. “I wanted them to get as much done as they could before the holidays.”

I place my hand on his arm, overcome with gratefulness. “Thank you. I really appreciate everything you and Rowan are doing for me.”

Some color appears on Sam’s cheeks. “Of course. Happy to help.”

The tiramisu Rowan and I prepared yesterday is sitting in the fridge, so I take it out and bring it out to the new dining table in the living room. I’ve gotten used to eating on the sofa with him, but with Sam coming over, we’ve had to upgrade.

We? Careful.

I swallow, some apprehension appearing low inside my belly. There is no we. There’s Rowan, and there’s me. Over the last week, it’s been getting harder and harder to remember that.

Outside the window, snow is falling softly, coating the world in a blanket of white. The lights on the Christmas tree twinkle, casting a warm glow over the living room.

It’s almost too perfect. I don’t think I’ve ever had a Christmas like this. Mom did her best, but it was the one holiday Dad never skipped, and I was always on pins and needles whenever he was around.

And the last few years with just my mom were difficult. I couldn’t help but wonder if every year was the last one we’d celebrate together, and I’d usually be overcome with anger at Maxton for not coming again. We’d finish dinner, and I’d help her get into bed, and then all I used to want to do was pass out and forget about the day.

But right now, I don’t want this day to ever end.

Truthfully, I don’t want any of this to end.

Which means my control is slipping. How much longer can I keep denying what’s brewing between Rowan and I?

God. This isn’t a story I can stop by simply closing the book. This is my life, and if I don’t rein in my feelings for Rowan, I’m setting myself up to get hurt.

I hear the guys laughing in the kitchen. A moment later, Rowan comes out with the ragù and puts it on the cork trivet in the middle of the table.

I walk over and peek inside the pot. “Smells incredible.”

Rowan grins, looking pleased at the compliment. “It better be. It’s been cooking for hours. Hope you guys are hungry.”

“Fuck!”

Sam’s shout makes Rowan and me rush back to the kitchen. We replace him hopping from one foot to the other, wrestling with his wet shirt.

“What happened?” Rowan asks.

“The pasta water went all over me when I went to dump it out.”

I gasp. “That water was boiling. Here, let me help you. Rowan, can you bring him something to wear?”

Rowan nods and leaves the kitchen. I quickly turn off the stove and grab a towel to help him dry off the scalding water.

‘Damn, that looks like it hurts,’ I say, wincing as I see the red spreading across Sam’s chest and arms.

He chuckles, though it’s more of a grimace. “Should have been more careful. I don’t spend much time in the kitchen at home.”

I wet the towel with cold water and gently dab at the reddened patches on his chest. Sam inhales sharply. He’s also got a few tattoos on his torso. Not as many as Rowan, but—

Wait, that looks familiar. It’s a fish with a man’s face coming out of its mouth.

I move the wet towel out of the way.

“That tattoo…” I frown. “Rowan has the same one.”

Sam freezes.

Rowan returns and hands a clean shirt to Sam, who hastily puts it on, his eyes darting back to me. “Uh, yeah, he does.”

“What are you talking about?” Rowan asks.

I gesture at Sam’s chest. “Your matching tattoos.”

A flicker of unease crosses Rowan’s features. ‘What about them?’

I give him a befuddled look. Isn’t it obvious I want to know the story? “How come you got them?”

They exchange a quick look, and there’s something uneasy about it. “It’s nothing, really,” Sam says. “Just something we got together a while back.”

Rowan rubs the back of his head. “It’s kind of embarrassing.”

“Yeah. We were drunk. Like really drunk.”

I plant my hands on my hips, getting a weird vibe from both of them. “And you got a tattoo of a strange fish? Why?”

Rowan drags his tongue over his teeth. “It’s stupid.”

“Why are you being so cagey? I mean, what could possibly be so embarrassing—”

“We got them when we decided to leave Las Vegas,” Rowan says. “The fish symbolizes our rebirth. The beginning of a new life. It’s sappy, okay? But we wanted to do something to commemorate our decision to work on our own business together.”

I frown. So leaving Vegas was a big deal for them, but Rowan’s always been tight-lipped about what it was that caused them to leave. Why the secrecy?

“Why did you two decide to leave?”

Rowan drags his palm over his chin. There’s something tense about his posture, something weird about this whole conversation, but I can’t quite put a finger on it. Are they really that embarrassed by the tattoos, or is there more to it?

Brett’s warnings come to mind, but I shove them away, refusing to let that asshole poison my thoughts about Rowan.

In fact, he’s probably why I’m suddenly feeling so on edge. He managed to plant a tiny seed of doubt in my head, despite me knowing he’s full of shit.

No. I’m not going to let a bad man manipulate my thoughts about a good man like Rowan. I just need to give Rowan a chance to explain.

“The owner of the company fucked up on a project, but he put the blame on the two of us. We might have gotten…arrested if we stuck around.”

Shock crackles through me. “What?”

“He said we were stealing from the business. Taking materials from the construction site but charging the client for it. I was a manager, and Sam worked for me, but we weren’t stealing anything. The owner was.”

Rowan? A thief? He’s the most generous man I’ve ever met. Just the thought of it is ridiculous. “Of course you weren’t.”

“We left quickly and not on the best of terms. It’s not my proudest moment, but we didn’t have a choice. Sticking around would have meant getting sucked into more problems.”

Indignation rises inside me. “Well, I know what it’s like to have an insane boss. I can’t believe yours tried to pin that on you. You should have gone to the police.”

“You’re probably right, but we just wanted to get away from the whole situation.”

“I get it.” And I do. How many times have I kept my mouth shut around Brett just to minimize our interactions?

I sigh, feeling ridiculous for getting so suspicious earlier. “I’m sorry for grilling you.”

Rowan smiles. “Don’t be. I get why you wanted to know.”

“Anyway, I think the tattoos are cool. You shouldn’t be embarrassed by them.”

Rowan wraps his palm around the side of my head and kisses my temple. “C’mon. Let’s go eat.”

I still feel a bit guilty for pressing them so hard on the tattoos, but the whole incident is forgotten as soon as we sit down.

Rowan serves the pasta, spooning the ragù on top of the noodles and then grating fresh parmesan cheese over it. Sam cracks open another bottle of wine and fills our glasses, and I remember the garlic bread at the very last second, somehow saving it from being burned.

Sam and Rowan chat about random things—work, upcoming plans, funny anecdotes from their past. I listen, content to just be in their presence. I wish Del could have come for Christmas, but she took a trip to visit her grandparents in Florida. I think she would like Sam. I’ll have to introduce the two of them the next time she’s in town.

When Rowan tries to give me a second serving of pasta, I stop him. “I have to stop eating or I won’t have any room for dessert.”

Sam gets to his feet. “I’m going to grab some plates for the tiramisu.”

“Make some tea, will you?” Rowan asks.

“Sure.”

Rowan watches Sam walk out of the room before leveling his gaze on me. “How do you feel about getting your Christmas present early?”

A flutter appears inside my belly. I have no idea if he’ll like the gift I hid under the bed. But I definitely can’t give it to him while Sam’s around. “You didn’t have to get me anything, you know.”

He gets out of his seat and pulls an envelope out from under the tablecloth. He must have stashed it there earlier. “I sure as hell did. What kind of a shitty boyfriend would I be if I didn’t get you a gift?”

My pulse picks up speed. Boyfriend? “Rowan…”

He comes around the table, sits in the chair beside mine, and hands me the envelope. “Merry Christmas, Sunshine.”

I turn it over in my clammy hands. There’s nothing on it except for my name written on one side. “What is this?”

“Open it.”

I tear along the seam and pull out a few folded papers. It takes me a few moments to decipher what I’m reading.

It’s a lease agreement.

The address is a unit in Riverbend Mall.

I look at Rowan in confusion. “I don’t understand.”

His eyes are filled with so much warmth that it takes my breath away. “It’s for your new bookstore.”

“What?” My voice is no more than a weak whisper.

“Sam and I saw an empty storefront at the mall that would be perfect for a bookshop. You said you’ve always wanted to open one, right? Well, this has shelves installed, and I could help you renovate the interior if—“

My surroundings go blank, and my heartbeat’s thundering inside my ears.

He got me a space for a bookstore?

The papers fall out of my hand, and a flock of butterflies invades my stomach.

He stops midsentence and frowns. “You don’t like it?”

“No.” I’m out of my chair, climbing onto his lap and kissing him with everything I’ve got. He wraps his arms around me and kisses me back, and I can feel him smile against my lips.

“I love it,” I say when we break for air. There are tears in my eyes. “I can’t decide if you’re the craziest or the best man I’ve ever met.”

Rowan gives me a crooked grin. “Why not both?” He brushes his fingers through my hair, pushing it away from my face. “I don’t want you to leave, Sunshine. I want you to stay with me in Darkwater and give us a chance. Can’t you see how good we are together?”

My breath hitches.

I’ve wanted to leave Darkwater Hollow behind for so long. I was convinced there was nothing for me here and that I would never be accepted, but that’s not true. Rowan’s changed all that.

He’s given me plenty of reasons to stay. And maybe I don’t need anyone else’s acceptance, as long as I have his.

I press a kiss to his lips. “I’ll stay.”