Free Betrayed (Chianti Kisses #3) by Tara Oakes Page A

detours.”
    He knows exactly the kind of detour I’m talking about… the kind that take him anywhere near my sister’s apartment. I’ve known about their little secret meetings and have had more than an urge to confront both of them and put an end to it.
    The only thing stopping me is thinking I’ll only push them further into each other’s arms.
    Theresa’s a smart girl. She’ll figure out soon enough that he’s not the guy for her. He broke her heart once, years ago, and I can’t blame her for wanting to get some real closure on all that.
    But my patience can only go so far. I’m not giving her much more time to figure that all out on her own before I help the situation by seeing to it that she’s transferred to the new ATH Miami offices and he’s kept busy right here.
    I know mama will have a fit if that happens but I’m willing to deal with that rather than a brother-in-law like Carmine breaking my sister’s heart and ruining her life.
     
     
     
    ~*~
     
    CARMINE
     
    Huh.
    So far, from what I can tell, this place looks halfway decent. It pains me to say it looks like the kind of place I would even take my car to. And anyone who knows me, knows how I feel about my car. No truer words were ever said than to treat your car like you treat the ladies. You take care of them and they’ll take care of you.
    So far, on both fronts, it’s proven true. Every lady who’s passed through my sheets has left satisfied and left me even more so. Well… every one of them except Tre. Something happens when I’m with her. I can get off on just the thought of getting her off. That just goes against every code I’ve lived my life by so far.
    “You lost, Sonny Boy?” The sarcastic voice breaks through my thoughts just in time to keep my crotch in check from becoming a standing tribute to the thought of Tre in my bed.
    He looks at the classic restored black ’64 Pontiac GTO behind me, gleaming  in the mid-day sun like a fine woman on display.
    “The junkyard’s over about eight blocks,” he quips. “Maybe they can take care of this relic.”
    I stand up tall and straighten my tie, cracking my neck. “Jealousy looks good on you, old man. Maybe one day you can do enough oil changes and tune-ups to save up and buy your very own great American muscle car, but until then, don’t even think you’re touching mine. I only let real professionals work on my baby.”
    He laughs. “And which one is that? The car or the girl you let distract you?”
    All kidding and joking has just turned a corner with that last comment. Joe’s a married man with three kids running amuck and yet he still finds time to step out on his woman. He’s much older than I am, but I’ve seen the way he appreciates Theresa’s… assets .
    “Both. I’ll put a bullet in any man who tries to touch either. Capisce?”
    Joe stares at me hard. “Keep your cool, kid. They’re not my type. Either of them. I like imports… not domestics.”
    I gag a little. I’ve seen some of the “imports” he’s talking about. Russian girls no older than a schoolgirl. It’s disgusting.
    “Boss says you’ve got a package for him,” I change the subject before this escalates further and I have to explain why I beat the man bloody with a wrench.
    He waves his hand for me to follow through the aisles of car parts. I carefully step over the puddles of motor oil, and narrowly miss getting my tailored jacket caught on a nail from one of the support columns.
    This place is a walking disaster, and his office is no better.
    “Take a seat,” he says, offering me the chair facing his piece of crap desk with about a dozen trees worth of piled paper on it.
    I take one look at the rickety metal-framed chair with a torn cushioned seat and decline his offer of uncharacteristic hospitality.
    “I’m good, thanks.”
    He rolls his eyes. “You know what your problem is, kid?”
    I’m intrigued. “Besides a hostile work environment?”
    Joe sits back and reclines in the