8

Margo

I read the text for the third time.

Hey, Margo. Rocello here. Can you meet me at my place tonight at seven?

The more I read it, the less it clarified. I couldn't help but wonder how Rock had even gotten my number, though I didn't dwell on that for long. Clearly, he had connections. Yet, for a guy with connections, he seemed to have a knack for brevity. Couldn't he spare another sentence or two to explain what he wanted?

Perplexed, I looked up the address he'd sent. It was an apartment building a couple of miles away from my tiny studio.

Getting there wouldn't be a problem, but I was itching to know what this was all about. Had his injury from before reopened? If so, I was definitely not the right person to contact. Unless, in his post-explosion daze, he'd confused me with Piper?

Or maybe it was something else entirely—a late-night rendezvous? The idea sent a flutter through my stomach, but that didn't seem to align with Rocello's demeanor. Not that I knew much about his demeanor beyond his occasional glances in my direction at the bar. It was part of the job, after all.

Setting my phone down, I paced back and forth in my small living room. It didn't take much distance to cover. Sighing, I pulled at the end of my ponytail. Then, a new thought struck me, one that nearly brought a laugh. What if Rock was upset about that moment when I'd sat on Jumaine's lap and nearly kissed him while Rock was passed out on the sofa?

Somehow, I didn’t think that was it, but the memory of being that close to Jumaine’s strong, lean body wasn’t exactly an unpleasant one. Far from it.

The trio had been practically strangers to me a week ago. Now I’d almost kissed one and another wanted me to come over to his apartment.

If anyone told me this would happen, I would have laughed in their faces. I didn’t date my customers. Period. It was not only good business sense, but stating my rule firmly and clearly usually got the man in question to back down. Usually. But again, Rock, Jumaine, and Slade weren’t the ones who’d pressed the issue. Hell, they’d never even brought it up.

And did those three even count as customers anymore? Rock had beaten the crap out of two assholes who’d tried to rob me. I’d helped dress Jumaine’s wounds. And Slade… well, I hadn’t had much direct contact with him, but he’d been there on that crazy night out in North Haven.

I sat down on my loveseat and pulled my knees up to my chest. The small couch reminded me of how ridiculously large Rock had looked on the sofa at Zoey’s place.

It had scared the hell out of me when I saw that shard of glass in his neck. Partly because I was a bit squeamish, but also because I didn’t want him to be hurt. He’s seemed unstoppable when he beat up those two bastards who pulled guns on me. It was sobering to see a powerful man like him hurt.

If a guy like that could be injured, then so could I. When I’d pulled out a shotgun at the bar, it was because I thought I had to. My whole life, I’ve had to take care of myself. Sure, my mom tried her best, but as a single parent, she’d worked very long hours. Mostly, I fended for myself.

What would’ve happened if Rock hadn’t been there? Or if he’d chosen to do nothing like the people at the other table?

It was a scary thought, and I hugged my knees to my chest. I’d always taken pride in being able to take care of myself, but the truth was, I was a small woman and there were some very bad people in the world.

If Rock hadn’t stepped in, I could’ve been seriously hurt—or worse.

This shouldn’t have been news to me, but somehow it was. Probably I’d pushed that knowledge away during the aftermath. And then the very next night the three guys had appeared on my friend’s doorstep, all bloody and injured. That had wiped the thought right out of my head.

Maybe.

Over the years, I’d become adept and brushing aside troubling ideas. There simply hadn’t been time to deal with them. I’d worked a job since I was fifteen, and during my few semesters of college, I’d studied my ass off while working then, too. So there hadn’t been time to focus on unpleasant things.

Plus sometimes I flat out didn’t want to. Like the night my mom had told me about her cancer.

A tear rolled down my face as I thought about how those guys could’ve killed me. I owed Rocello. Even though Piper had stitched him up the other night, that didn’t make up for what I owed him.

I stood up, already moving toward the bathroom. I didn’t know why Rocello wanted to see me, but I knew I wasn’t going to show up at his place in sweats and with messy hair, which was sort of my uniform for my days off.

Before I hopped in the shower, I sent Rocello a one-word text.

Sure.

Rock’s apartment building was not what I’d call fancy, though it was a lot nicer than mine. The brick exterior only had a few spots where the red blocks had crumbled. The entryway smelled musty, and there was an “out of order” sign on the elevator. But my building didn’t even have an elevator.

I paused outside of his door feeling nervous. I straightened my skirt in case it had gotten crumbled up while I was climbing the stairs. Then I checked the buttons on my silk blouse. Three were undone, which seemed like a good compromise to me between “nun-like” and “slutty.”

Taking a deep breath, I rapped my knuckles on his door. He opened the door, and I swallowed hard as I looked up at him. He practically filled the entire doorway. I was used to looking at him from behind the bar. Up close, he seemed even bigger. His biceps bulged and stretched the sleeves of his dark gray t-shirt. It was easy to see how he'd been able to wipe the floor with those guys who’d tried to hold up the bar without breaking a sweat.

Though pretty much every part of him was large, his stomach was flat under his t-shirt. And his black jeans were tight enough to make my thighs clench.

He had a slight smirk on his face, and I realized that I hadn’t been very subtle about checking him out. Oops. “Hey, Margo. Thanks for coming.”

“H-hi.” I resisted the urge to roll my eyes at the weakness of my voice. I needed to pull myself together.

My ears picked up a funny sound coming from within his place. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but it sounded like a low rumble.

“You look nice,” Rock said, making me feel like I was on a date. But if this were a date, I was fairly sure he’d be picking me up from my place, not the other way around. He seemed like he’d be an old-fashioned guy in that regard.

“Thanks.”

He stepped back. “Come on in.”

I stepped forward, noting the huge leather sofa before locating the source of the rumbling noise. To the right, a young boy was kneeling on the floor, his forearms on a coffee table. There had to be about twenty different dinosaur figures spread out in front of him. He was holding one in each hand. They appeared to be fighting.

“Thomas.” I had never heard that kind of gentleness in Rocello’s voice. Most of the time, it was deep and raspy. “This is Margo.”

Thomas looked up curiously as he set down his dinosaurs.

“Hi, Thomas,” I said. He looked to be about six or seven.

Rocello crouched down next to the child. “Margo’s our guest tonight. What do you say to her?”

“Hi. Nice to meet you.” He ended his polite greeting with a shy grin. Two of his front teeth were missing, making his smile more adorable than words could say.

“Nice to meet you too, Thomas.” The boy looked unbelievably tiny next to the huge man, but still, the dark eyes were the same. The tan skin. The Italian heritage.

Thomas was Rocello’s son.

Rock spoke to his son as I reeled from that information. It had never entered my mind that Rocello might be a dad.

“Margo’s going to stay with you. I’ll be back in a few hours.”

Thomas nodded, but that was news to me. I was here to babysit?

“Will you be back before I go to sleep?” Thomas asked.

Regret crossed the big man’s face. “No. But I’m sure Margo knows how to tuck kids in.”

Did I? I’d done some babysitting in my teens. I’d done whatever I could to earn money, but it had been a while.

“We’ll be fine,” I said to both of them, though I couldn’t quite remember the part where I’d agreed to babysit. But I owed Rocello, and Thomas was adorable. He seemed well-behaved, too. Of course, maybe any kid would be well-behaved with a giant man right next to him.

But no, that wasn’t it. There was genuine affection between these two. That much had become clear in just the few minutes I’d been here.

Rocello straightened up, and once again, I was struck by how big he was. Would I ever get over that reaction? “Be a good boy for me, champ. I’ll see you tomorrow morning.” He jerked his head toward the entryway to the kitchen, and I followed him in there.

“I’ll be as quick as I can,” he said in a low voice.

I nodded, knowing better than to ask what he would be doing.

Rocello studied my face, as if trying to read my unspoken thoughts. “Thanks for doing this. The girl I use canceled at the last minute because she had a date.” He scoffed. “A date! She’s only sixteen.”

A laugh bubbled up in my throat. If I’d had any doubts that he was a parent, that line would’ve removed them. He’d sounded like a disapproving father.

I glanced back at the living room to make sure Thomas hadn’t appeared in the doorway. “And his mother—?” I didn’t want to be nosy, but that was something I needed to know. What if she showed up and saw some strange woman watching her son?

“His mother decided a long time ago that she had no interest in being a mother.” Rocello’s tone was gruff but not bitter. It sounded like something he’d resigned himself to a long time ago. “A lady next door watches him after school along with her grandson. It’s not easy, but I make it work. But tonight, I needed help.”

I smiled at him. “Just like I did when those two guys pulled their guns on me at the bar.”

Rock’s expression darkened. “That was a freebie—you don’t have to help me tonight because of that. In fact, I can pay—”

“I know that,” I said quickly. “And tonight is a freebie, too.”

“Thank you.” A corner of his mouth tilted up. “It wasn’t exactly a hard thing, bashing those idiots’ heads together.”

I bit back a grin. “If I hadn’t known better, I would’ve almost thought you were having fun.”

“We play to our strengths.” He cocked an eyebrow at me. “I still can’t believe you didn’t run into the kitchen or duck behind the bar.”