The Woman with the Flowers (Costa Family #5) Read Online Jessica Gadziala

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Mafia, Romance, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: Costa Family Series by Jessica Gadziala
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Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 76456 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
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Second, she was smack-dab in the middle of whatever the fuck was going on with our Family business in Balm Harbour.

It was too messy.

But, well, I knew me.

I liked messy.

“Damnit,” Vega grumbled when the movie went to credits, startling Mere who pulled her hand away in response.

“What?” she asked, clasping her hands in her lap, like she had to prevent herself from reaching out again.

“He lived.”

“You didn’t want the good guy to make it?” I asked, brows pinching.

“Was he the good guy, though? I mean, his flashbacks paint him as the asshole. Just because he had the badge in the story doesn’t mean he was good. I kinda got why the so-called villain wanted to rip his guts out and wear them as a necklace. Anyway. I’m tired,” she declared, making a show of stretching and yawning. “Catch you guys in the morning,” she said, practically running out of the room, leaving the two of us alone.

“No, I’ve got it,” she insisted when I started to reach for my plate. “I like to clean,” she added.

“I like to help,” I said, shrugging, and taking the plate from her. “So, is there a particular way you like to do this?” I asked, gesturing around the kitchen with the plate.

“Oh, ah, just, you know, rinse, then in the dishwasher,” she said, putting the extra cartons away in the fridge.

“Hey, babe?” I asked, noticing her glancing over at me several times as I rinsed.

“Yeah?” she asked.

“Do you want to do this?” I asked, waving toward the sink. “I get that people have particular ways they want shit done in their houses. I just wanted to be a decent houseguest,” I explained, rinsing my hands, and moving away.

“I know it’s silly to be particular about dishes,” she said as she moved into my place, but I noticed her shoulders weren’t as tense anymore.

“No, it’s not. I got an aunt who can’t let anyone else vacuum her rugs because she’s got a certain way of doing it. Everyone has their shit,” I said, shrugging.

“What’s yours?” she asked, pretending like she didn’t glance my way, but I saw it.

“My shit?” I asked, thinking about it. “I dunno. Guess I’m particular about my clothes,” I said. “Smelling good. Looking good. That kinda shit. Fuck, that makes me sound vain as fuck, doesn’t it?” I asked, letting out a little laugh.

“No. I’m… particular about those things too,” she said, gesturing toward her outfit.

“I like how you dress. Kind of old-fashioned. Soft, feminine. Think it suits you.”

“I like how you dress too. Suits will always be in style. And men who wear suits tend to pay attention to the little things. Vega dated this guy once. A mechanic, I think? Or in construction. A hands-on kind of job like that. Under his fingernails was always black,” she said, letting out a little shudder at the thought.

I knew she was not the kind of woman you talked like this to, but I couldn’t help but want to see that pretty little blush again.

“And no woman wants dirty fingernails up inside of them,” I said, watching as her eyes widened a bit, but then flooded with heat as her gaze went automatically to my hands.

And, yeah, I kept my fucking fingernails clean.

“She, ah, she wasn’t with him for long,” Mere said, closing the dishwasher, then spraying down the counters. “She’s not a serious relationship kind of girl,” she added, scrubbing a little extra hard, considering there was nothing on the counters.

“What about you?” I asked. “Are you a—“

“Hey, almost forgot,” Vega’s voice broke in. “Here,” she said, tossing a pair of men’s sweatpants at me.

“What about a shirt?” Mere asked.

“They’re all cut-offs,” Vega insisted, but the way Mere’s brow lifted suggested otherwise.

“No, they’re not.”

“Well, the ones that aren’t are all in my ever-growing laundry pile,” Vega insisted, but that was a lie too. “He probably doesn’t sleep in a shirt anyway. Hot guys never do,” she said, tossing out the throwaway comment. “I also started to run your bath for you,” she said. “Like five minute ago,” she added. “You might want to check on it before we flood the neighbors downstairs.”

“Sorry, I…” Mere started.

“No, go on. Take your bath,” I said, trying hard as fuck not to picture her in there. Naked. “I’m fine out here. I need to call my brother.”

“Okay. I will be out in a few to prepare the couch,” she said before scurrying off, leaving me alone with Vega who was eyeing me up.

“For a lawyer, you’re a shit liar,” I told her, waving the pants.

“I’m a paralegal. And if I wanted to get one over on you, I could. But there was no reason to be convincing with that lie. I kinda just want to see you without a shirt on.”

“Vega, listen, you’re gorgeous, but I’m not interested,” I told her.


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