It was just the knowledge that I’d hit the perfect mixture of both parents’ gene pools and came out from the deep end like a freaking mermaid.
From the perfect smattering of freckles across my nose.
To the naturally full lips and high cheekbones. And, of course, the dimples that had every guy—bad and good—falling all over themselves to help me.
My legs wobbled a bit on the grass, and I immediately had two guys rushing over, both who’d been staring for the past few minutes.
“Are you okay?” The golden Adonis held my elbow, his smile wide, his teeth straight and perfect.
“That was a rough fall…” the other said. He had a strong jaw and hair that fell across his forehead in a perfect messy arrangement of jet-black curls.
I smiled my appreciation. “Thanks, boys, but I’m a big girl.”
“Yeah, you are,” dark hair said, earning a smack from golden hair.
I threw back my head and laughed, then whispered, “You’re gonna have to try harder than that if you want my attention. And a little bit of advice, when you get my attention, you also get his.” I turned and pointed at my dad, who was at that very moment pulling back his suit jacket to reveal not one but two guns strapped to his chest.
I nearly did fall when they both released me with excuses.
“Yeah, I gotta…go…pee,” said dark.
“Alcohol.” Golden made a beeline for one of the two open bars, nearly tripping over his feet.
Huh, they were sexy.
Now, they just looked like scared little boys.
I grinned and shook my head, then continued making my way toward the bar near the water.
“It’s rude, you know…” a rich, masculine voice said from behind me.
I recognized it instantly.
Recognized him.
How could I not?
If there was one man in the entire world that my dad would murder for touching me without even hearing an excuse—it would be Tank. FBI agent, friend of the Families and the government, made man, and all-around conundrum of goodness and virtue.
I bet he sported red power ties and carried a briefcase when he wasn’t with us.
I shuddered.
Hot.
Why did Tank in a suit sound so freaking hot?
I glanced over my shoulder. “You’re still alive?”
“Haha.” He rolled his eyes. “Where’s your babysitter?”
“I’m looking at him.” I winked.
He paled instantly.
“WOW!” I kept laughing. “At least now I know how you feel about me. Keeping watch over me makes you physically ill, memo received.”
“No. Yes…” He ran a hand through his rich chocolate-and-honey-colored hair. It was thick, I-used-to-be-a-quarterback-in-high-school perfection. “It’s just…I have enough Abandonatos on my ass right now. The last thing I need is one more using me for target practice.”
“Oh, he has a guy for that.”
“Pardon?”
I shrugged. “For live target practice. Just has him run back and forth, back and forth, until he tuckers out. I mean, naturally, Dad would never actually hit him, but it does make it more interesting. I think the worst he got was hit in the leg.” I examined my pink nails. “Nothing but a flesh wound.”
“Says literally no sane person outside of the mafia.”
I just repeated what the bosses said on a daily basis. “We’re all of us, a bit insane, don’t you think?”
“I don’t think. I know.”
For one brief second, I got lost in his eyes, in the way they drank me in and then shuttered as if he were hiding something.
As if he had something to hide.
Everyone had vetted him.
But it didn’t matter, did it?
He looked nervous. And Tank never looked nervous. Furthermore, he wasn’t a lingerer, especially with me. Was he trying his hand at being a human shield?
“You headed to the bar?” I started to move as his eyes darted behind me and then around as if he were checking out the perimeter to ensure we were safe when we had hundreds of men on our payroll walking around.
We were safe.
“Yup.” He held out his arm. “Now, let me help you walk before you kill yourself or twist an ankle.”
“Ah, the perfect gentleman.”
He snorted. “You have no idea.”
“You’re right…I don’t. None of us really do outside of when you come and train with the rest of the guys or when you’re in class at University. So, what’s your dirty secret, huh? You really an old man in his thirties pretending to be twenty-five?”
He stumbled a bit.
“Um, aren’t you supposed to be helping me walk, not the other way around?”
“The ground’s uneven.” He was a shit liar. “And, no, I’m not some creeper in my thirties. Not that thirties is that old. You’re just that young, you know? Like when you’re in the first grade and suddenly being ten years old is an adult.”
“Oh, I’ve always been one of those.”
“A first-grader?”
“An adult.” I winked.
His laugh was rich and amused. “Says the girl who’s having trouble walking in heels.”
“But the ground’s uneven…” I licked my lips. “Right?”
His eyes narrowed. “You’re terrifying.”
“You’re like the second old man to tell me that today.”
“I’m not an old man!” He raised his voice a bit.
I studied his sculpted biceps and massive body, the way his face had darkened with a hint of five o’clock shadow that always made itself known later in the day and sighed. “Sure, whatever you say.”
We stopped in front of the sleek, white marble bar top. “For the lady?”
“Milk,” Tank said with a grin.
I smacked him on the arm. Not an inch of fat on him, was there? “I’ll have white wine—”
Tank’s sigh interrupted me.
“What’s your deal, dude?” I elbowed him harder.
“Typical. Perfect daughter. Perfect, innocent little…girl gets boring white wine. I think I’d shit myself if you got anything harder than—”
“Whiskey, neat.” I changed my mind and then looked behind him.
“Why the hell are you staring at my ass?” Tank shoved me lightly.
“What?” I laughed. “You said you’d shit yourself. I’m waiting for the storm.”
“Disgusting.” He sighed, despite the cute bartender hiding a smile.
I grabbed my small glass and lifted it in cheers to Tank. “You’re the one who said it.”
“See…terrifying,” he mumbled. “And as loath as I am to admit it, I’ll have what the small child next to me is illegally drinking.”
I stuck out my tongue. “I’m not a small child, you asshat. Oh, also, he’s on the Abandonato payroll. He checks my ID, he gets checked out”—I paused for drama— “of life.”
Tank took his drink and lifted a brow. “That true?”
“I don’t ask questions. Whatever the princess wants, the princess gets,” he answered wisely and then nodded his head. “Cheers, Miss Abandonato.”