Chapter 142 Morning Mouth
Valentina
I was sore in all the right places.
And the wrong ones.
Moving was… a decision. One I regretted the second my feet hit the floor and my thighs screamed at me like I’d gone ten rounds with a personal trainer who thought orgasms counted as cardio.
I stretched, winced, and finally pulled on some sweats before opening the bedroom door.
Right down the hall, Rosco strolled out of Tess’s room. Shirtless. Smirking.
I froze.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” I said.
He paused mid-step, hands sliding into his pockets like this was some casual Tuesday.
“Morning, sunshine.”
“Are you physically incapable of keeping it in your pants?”
His smirk deepened. “Didn’t hear you complaining last night.”
I scowled. “She’s so much younger than you, Rosco.”
He leaned against the doorframe, unbothered. “Matteo’s ten years older than you.”
“Yeah,” I shot back, “and you’re what—two years older than Matteo? And she’s four years younger than me. Want to do the math on that?”
He opened his mouth, but I kept going.
“Sixteen years, Rosco. Sixteen. You could just about be her dad.”
“She’s legal,” he said flatly. “And smart. And hot.”
“She’s impressionable.” I crossed my arms. “And we still don’t know what kind of girl she is.”
He shrugged. “Relax. We had a talk. Told her I’m not into being strapped down.”
I narrowed my eyes. “And she just… accepted that?”
“She’s got her own issues. Didn’t seem like she’s looking for anything serious either.”
I gave him a look that could’ve melted steel. “This isn’t a fucking brothel.”
“No,” he said coolly, “but it’s also not your call who I spend my nights with.”
I stepped closer, voice low. “If she gets hurt, Rosco—”
“I won’t hurt her,” he cut in, serious now. “You know I’m not built that way.”
I searched his face. Something there flickered—guilt, maybe. Or something dangerously close to protectiveness.
“You better not be,” I muttered. “Because if she ends up crying on my couch while I’m pregnant and exhausted, I will cut your dick off and gift wrap it to Matteo.”
He grinned. “Damn. You pregnant?”
“Not yet.” I said as I flipped him off and walked past, refusing to limp.
I made my way to the kitchen, the tile cool under my feet, every step a throbbing reminder of Matteo’s idea of after-dark cardio. Rosco trailed behind me like a damn shadow, still shirtless, like he lived in a cologne ad and had something to prove.
The kitchen was blissfully empty—clean counters, quiet air, coffee already brewed. I poured a mug and leaned against the island, ignoring the way my thighs protested.
Rosco dropped onto a barstool and stretched like a cat. “You look like you’ve been thoroughly… exercised.”
I sipped my coffee. “You look like you stole that line from a bad porno.”
“Guilty.” He smirked.
We stood there in companionable silence for maybe a minute before Tess padded in.
She had that fresh-fucked glow that made me want to hurl my coffee across the room. Barely-there pajama shorts, loose top sliding off one shoulder, tousled blonde hair, and this dreamy, soft expression that hardened the moment her eyes landed on Rosco.
She didn’t say anything.
Neither did he.
But oh, she looked at him.
Like he hung the damn moon.
Rosco finished his coffee and stood. “I’ve got to check in about the port schedule.”
Tess didn’t respond—just watched him leave like he was carrying her soul in his back pocket.
The second he was out of sight, I turned. “Be careful with him.”
Tess blinked. “What?”
I raised an eyebrow. “Rosco.”
She tilted her head. “What about him?”
“Well, for starters,” I said, walking to refill my cup, “he’s a huge slut.”
Tess smiled, just barely. “I know. He told me he’s not looking for anything serious.”
I gave her a long look over my mug. “Yeah. And I told him you’re young. Impressionable.”
“I’m not stupid,” she said softly, but there was a wobble in the way she said it.
“No one said you were.” I leaned against the counter. “But I’ve seen girls get hurt by less charming men. Just… watch yourself. Don’t get attached.”
She bit her lip, gaze flicking back toward the doorway Rosco had disappeared through. “Too late?”
My chest tightened, but I didn’t say it out loud.
Instead, I sighed. “Then make sure you’re the one walking away first.”
I left Tess staring into her coffee like it could give her answers and made my way down the hall toward Matteo’s office.
He wasn’t behind his desk like usual—he was on the leather couch, shirtless, laptop on his thighs, and his hair still damp from the shower. The man really had no right looking that damn good before eight a.m.
I knocked once with my knuckle against the doorframe, already holding out the fresh mug.
His head lifted, and a grin curved that sinful mouth. “Well, well… I must’ve done something right if my wife is bringing me coffee before her usual crack-of-noon wake-up call.”
I smirked. “Unforgettable. And everything hurting is proof of that.”
He took the cup and gave me a look over the rim as he sipped. “That’s the kind of feedback I like to hear.”
I hovered in the doorway for a second, unsure how to say what I needed to. Then I just… blurted it.
“Rosco fucked Tess.”
Matteo choked.
Literally.
Coffee sprayed back into the mug, and he coughed, trying not to laugh at the same time. “Jesus Christ, Valentina.”
I folded my arms. “I found him leaving her room this morning.”
“Well, shit.” He set the mug down and leaned back. “I mean… we probably should’ve seen that coming.”
“I know,” I said, sinking onto the edge of the couch near his feet. “But I have a really bad feeling about this.”
His brows lifted. “Worse than you usually feel when Rosco sleeps with someone?”
I gave him a look. “She’s not just someone. She’s living here. She’s young. And she’s looking at him like he’s her damn fairytale.”
Matteo nodded slowly, sobering. “You think he’s gonna hurt her?”
“No,” I said. “I think he’s gonna do what he always does—move on. And she’s not built for that. I saw it in her eyes this morning. She’s already halfway gone for him.”
His fingers brushed my knee. “Then keep her close. Watch her. You’ve got good instincts when it comes to people.”
“I hope they’re wrong this time,” I murmured.
He leaned in, kissed the side of my head. “If they’re not… we’ll handle it. Together.”