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Tino.” She looked away and mumbled under her breath, “Obviously.”
    “You’re married. Bri, you didn’t expect—”
    “What if he has a girlfriend?” Brianna burst out with her darkest terror. “There’s no reason for him not to have a girlfriend and—”
    “I talk to him all the time. He does not have a girlfriend. I would know.”
    “What if he didn’t want to tell you?” Brianna pressed, feeling her cheeks heat with the clash of fear and embarrassment. “What if—”
    “Look, he’s Tino. He’s been around since you broke up. You both went to extreme measures to stay away from each other, but—”
    “He’s got a girlfriend,” Brianna whispered miserably. “And we’re gonna show up here and ruin his life.”
    “He doesn’t have a girlfriend,” Carina assured her. “I promise.”
    Promise or not, Brianna ended up eating half of Carina’s fried chicken out of nerves. It did taste fantastic and was certainly more enjoyable than any sex she’d had in the past few years.
    Tino really had been such a long time ago, a different life, hazed in the smoky glow of nightclubs and the hot, sticky press of bodies colliding in the dark. Their love had been wild, unpredictable, and so unbelievably raw and sensual it would likely never stop haunting her.
    Together, they were like a firework.
    Beautiful in the night.
    A dusty smear of ash in the morning when reality crashed in and ruined the high. They just weren’t ever meant to be more than one brief, amazing explosion of memories that should’ve been enough to sustain them.
    But it hadn’t been.
    Not even close.
    * * * *
    Now she and Carina were using the GPS to try and find a gym called the Cuthouse Cellar, where Tino was supposed to be attending a wedding party, ’cause nothing said romance like Cuthouse Cellar.
    “They’re so helpful here. Not only did she know him, but she knew right where he was,” Carina observed as she turned left at the GPS’s urging. “With any luck, I won’t have to see Romeo at all.”
    “Helpful? Is that what we’re calling it?” Brianna asked, realizing life had officially made her paranoid. “It doesn’t bother you that she just pointed us right to where Tino was? What if we were with the Borgata? What if we were another Borgata? What if we were one of the thousand guys who has a vendetta against Tino?”
    “Tino can take care of himself,” Carina said in the way most Cosa Nostra family members did to protect themselves from the knowledge that danger was everywhere—for everyone.
    Anyone could fall prey to a bullet.
    Denial was just something they’d been trained with since birth.
    Brianna was close; she’d been around it far too long, but the protection mechanisms hadn’t been ingrained like they were with Carina.
    “Wow, this is a fucking gym right here,” Carina said as she turned into the large parking lot of the Cuthouse Cellar. “Look at the size of this place. Damn, they don’t half-ass things in Kentucky.”
    “Yeah,” Brianna whispered, not really paying attention because her stomach was leaden with anxiety. “This is a mistake. I cannot just show up here and jack up his life. I think I’m gonna puke.” Brianna dropped her head to her knees. “How do I let you talk me into these things? My entire life is a series of bad decisions, and I think a large portion of them are mostly your fault.”
    “Yeah, probably. I’m certainly a guilty party,” Carina agreed without apology as she parked. “ Madonn’ , there he is.”
    “What?” Brianna lifted her head so fast she felt faint as Carina tossed the hat and glasses off. “No, don’t—”
    Carina leaped out of the car before Brianna could grab her. Then Brianna had to remind herself to breathe as she looked across the parking lot. Standing against the wall was Tino, all casual, stealth-like grace as if he didn’t have a care in the world. He was still too gorgeous to be human. Tanned and beautiful, because Tino, like all the Moretti