He continued to fuck into her slowly before pulling out, helping her sit on the couch and leaving quickly to deal with the condom before returning, flopping down beside her.

“So, welcome home,” Duke said, putting an arm around her shoulders.

“You really do have the best ways of saying that. Ginger just wants food.”

He flashed a grin at her before settling in again. “We have about an hour or so before we need to head out to the marina. PJ told me to make sure you had sunscreen, but to do it in a way that didn’t insult you or assume you were an idiot. Those were her words.”

“I think you managed that very careful feat.” Carmella snorted.

“Who knew you had such a great sense of humor? Can I help with anything?”

“I need to change my clothes. You can’t help with that or we’ll never make it out the door. I made a bunch of sandwiches first thing this morning and some macaroni salad to go with.”

“I picked up soda, water, and beer. I have a cooler we can put the food in when we’re ready to leave. And what if you need help zipping or snapping or something? I’m sure I can help you get dressed.”

“I’ll be back out in a few minutes. Or I can come get you when I’m ready.”

Duke frowned and still looked handsome. “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere. You smell good.”

Carmella kissed him quickly and headed to her room to change. In the background she heard him talking to Ginger when the dog came back inside.

Really, this was the best Saturday she’d had in a really long time.

CHAPTER Ten

We should get moving,” Duke said as they came back inside from her yard. Ginger would be staying home, so Carmella and Duke had played ball with her awhile, getting her nice and tired.

“Yeah. I’ll get all the food ready. I’ve got it all in the fridge so I can easily tuck it into your cooler or keep it in mine.” Without thinking about it, she yanked him down, tugging his shirt so she could kiss him quickly. He was so much taller she’d just found it easier to pull him to her height than to scramble up on things to get to his.

“I want to wash the dog slobber off my hands before we do.”

She laughed and pointed to her bathroom. Heaven forbid a little dog spit got on his precious steering wheel. “You take that sink and I’ll use the one in the kitchen.”

Once he’d disappeared, she’d headed into the kitchen, cleaning up, making sure the dog had food and water and moving the picnic supplies near the door.

Duke came out a few minutes later and Carmella smiled his way. “Ready?” Her gaze slipped to his hand and the bandage on it. There was a little blood on his shirt. Her smile fell away. “Are you all right? What happened?”

*     *     *

He lifted the hand, a little blood showing through the bandage. “I broke the glass you have next to the sink. Sorry.”

She moved to him, trying to take his hand. “Did you clean it up? Do you need stitches?”

“It’s not that serious. I found a first aid kit in your cabinet.” The most perfectly organized and supplied first aid kit he’d ever seen. Nor was he surprised to see it that way.

But he had been surprised to find all those bottles lined up in neat rows. All bearing someone else’s name. He’d been arguing with himself since opening that cabinet about whether to say anything. It was her business after all and it didn’t seem to affect her work or her life negatively.

But there were a lot of bottles. He’d seen this sort of stockpiling before and the size of that kind of addiction could land her in the hospital at best. The worst-case scenario wasn’t something he wanted to think on.

So he sucked in a breath and decided to say something. “Speaking of that. Honey, you’ve got a whole lot of pill bottles in there with someone else’s name on them.”

She flinched like he’d slapped her and he knew he’d landed a direct hit. He didn’t want to embarrass or hurt her, but he sure as hell didn’t want to lose her either.

He tried again when she didn’t reply. “What you do when you’re not at work isn’t my business—”

Carmella held up a hand to stop him speaking. “Those belong to my mother.” She pointed to a picture on the far wall of her and another woman. “Virgie Hay.”

Nausea swamped her. Shame that she’d been confronted like that. Accused in her own house. Not being able to trust him when she’d begun to truly believe he was someone to count on.

She hated few things more than feeling like a fool.

And then he made it worse. “Your name is Rossi and your uncle’s name is Salazar. Look, it’s fine. I don’t care that you might need a boost. I’m just saying that many bottles says you might have a problem.”

She blinked at him, utterly incredulous. Her first inclination was to apologize and then explain about how she had to monitor her mom, keep the pills with her so there’d be no accidents, overdoses, or days-long binges that drew Virgie into the darkest pit of her depression.

But Carmella then realized he hadn’t asked her anything. He assumed all sorts of stuff and made her some sort of villain when he had no reason to.

Carmella was only getting to know this man and she wasn’t feeling exactly eager to cut open a vein and vomit the trauma of her goddamn life to him. She didn’t owe him that. He hadn’t earned it.

“You’re out of line,” Carmella managed to say. “My mother’s name is different because she’s been married three times. It’s different from mine because I was married too.”