Gael's Naughty Angel: A Mafia Prince Romance

Angela and Gael got teary-eyed after laughing for a couple of minutes. As they came down from their fit, their gazes landed on each other's eyes. Both of them gazing; neither was speaking.

He could feel the heat of her gaze as her eyes dipped lower, scanning his neck, pecs, and down to his rippling abdominal muscles. The way she studied his body was primal, and he couldn't deny that he liked it. He did the same—raking his eyes on her porcelain skin with a hint of blush. His jaw ticked when he imagined sinking his teeth on the spot where her neck and shoulder connected and then nip her collarbone with his lips. He swallowed. 

She found the scar that he got a few months ago from the gunshot wound on his rib's lower right where the bullet pierced. There were two more scars from the surgery several inches down his underarm but they were covered by his upper arm where she couldn't see.

Angela reached out towards him, and by instinct, he caught her hand before she could touch him. She glanced up, meeting his eyes for a second. 'Please,' her eyes said.

Gael hesitated until he slowly released her hand. She inched closer, and his breathing hitched, her fingers brushing over the gunshot scar on his right rib. Her touch was delicate as if she was afraid that it would cause him pain. They were less than a foot away now, and he towered over her small frame, but she didn't seem like she was intimidated by him.

"Did it hurt?" she asked with her brows furrowed, worry lacing her voice.

It hurt like a bîtch. It wasn't his first gunshot wound, but it still hurt all the same. Actually, this particular one hurt more, probably because it cut through his lung. But of course, he wouldn't tell her that. His lip twitched. "Nothing I couldn't handle."

Her fingers remained on top of the scar as if she wanted to take it from him. She lifted her gaze, looking up at him as she wondered, "Does it still hurt?"

He shook his head. It took nearly two months for his wound to heal completely and eleven weeks until the doctor allowed him to fly on a plane again and go back to his normal activities. He had to be on pain meds—though it didn't completely take away the pain, it helped him get by. Gael didn't like relying on pain relievers, but he became so irritable that his sister and uncle had to confront him about it, forcing him to take it instead of holding on to the pain—they believed he was punishing himself for what happened. Eventually, he agreed, so from time to time, he'd popped some pills to curb the pain.

It didn't hurt anymore. And he was able to exercise like he used to; hence, he ran with Angela. However, he still took it easy with lifting weights.

'Is she hurting for me?' he thought. The look in her eyes spoke a lot. She didn't say anything for a while, and he doubted that she noticed her eyes were becoming misty. 'This is what you'd have to live with if you keep staying with me, Angel,' he spoke in his thoughts, wanting to voice it out loud, but he tightened his jaw and kept his mouth shut.

"What does this mean?" she probed, her fingers now brushing the tattoo that he had on the right side of his torso. It ran from top to bottom of his rib area, a couple of inches away from the scar.

"La famiglia è la patria del cuore," he read the Italian words written in script. "It means, Home is where the heart is. My mother used to tell me this a lot when I was younger."

"It's beautiful…"

"Mm."

Gael brushed his thumb on her cheek, wiping away the dirt on her face. Clumsy. Where'd she even get that?

Her lips parted when his finger grazed her skin, catching his attention. She was staring at his lips too, and the sudden urge to kiss her nagged him.

He lowered his hand and took a step back almost instantly, putting away the glass in the sink and speaking while his back was on her. "Why don't you go wash up? I'll take care of things here."

Turning back to face her again, he saw her frown while looking away, seemingly disappointed about something. She wanted to kiss him too, and he knew it. He felt it.

He clenched his hand and then raked his hair, slightly frustrated about his withdrawal. Gael wanted so badly to touch her, but the reminder blared in his head, keeping him from a distance. Not knowing what to do with his hands, he stuck them into his pockets.

She quickly managed to pull a smile as she faced him and nodded. "Okay."

When she turned to head out of the kitchen, he told her, "I appreciate the gesture, Angela. It means a lot that you cooked for me. Thank you…"

She took a deep breath and walked out.

...

Half an hour later, Angela came back to the kitchen in fresh clothes. She found Gael staring off into space while leaning against the counter. He was now fully clothed in dark jeans and a black henley shirt. His hair was casually swept back, still wet. She caught a whiff of his shower gel—minty and fresh; it made her mouth dry.

There was new food on the table, along with the ones she attempted to cook earlier. She was about to ask him why he hadn't thrown the salty scrambled eggs and bacon yet, but when she stepped inside the kitchen and he hadn't noticed her presence yet, she asked, "What are you thinking about so deeply?"

Gael blinked and pushed himself off the counter, a small and casual smile forming on his lips as he answered, "I'm thinking of imposing a ban in the kitchen on you."

Angela chewed on her bottom lip, flush creeping up on her cheeks as she recalled the stupidity she did earlier.

"I'm just kidding," he laughed, gesturing to her to sit at the table with him.

"I promise to learn cooking and make you something delicious and I'll make sure not to burn down your kitchen again—or anyone's kitchen for that matter."

His brow cocked in curiosity. "You'll learn how to cook...for me?"

"Of course." Angela shrugged. "I made you eat that disgusting food. I'd have to make up for it and make you forget you have ever tasted that. I still can't believe I put so much salt in it. How embarrassing." She pressed her hands on her cheeks, her eyes lingering on the 'scrambled eggs'—no, 'salt with a side of eggs' according to Gael. "Ugh!" She groaned.

"Wait." She darted her gaze from the eggs to his face and then the plate of great-looking scrambled eggs in front of her. The ones she cooked were on his side of the table while the good food was on hers. "Why haven't you thrown those away? Surely, you can't eat that?"

"Why not?" He picked up a piece of crunchy bacon and munched on it like it was no big deal.

Her eyes went wide. "That's horrible! Stop!" She tried to remove the plates from him, but he chuckled and shielded them with his arms.

Gael caught her hands and gently moved them away until she was seated again. "It's not. Look, I cooked the eggs again—salvaged it by adding more eggs. It's not as salty as it was before. And this bacon… I like crunchy food." He shrugged.

"Gael…"

"Enough. You made these for me. I'm going to eat all of it. You can't stop me."

When she pouted, he winked at her and started eating the eggs with his fork. Her heart felt full, it almost burst.

Wanting to move on from this, she looked at the food on her plate. Scooping the fluffy yellow goodness and shoving it into her mouth, her eyes closed as she relished the heavenly taste. "Oh, my god. This...THIS is scrambled eggs. Did you make this?" He didn't answer, but the small hint of a smile was proof that he did. "What can't you do?!"

Gael shook his head and picked up another crunchy bacon.

Angela abruptly shot up from her chair, surprising Gael.

"What are you doing?" he questioned when she began grabbing veggies and fruits from the fridge and putting them on the counter.

"I may not know how to cook, but I promise you…you'll love this smoothie. You're a health nut, too, aren't you? A green smoothie doesn't scare you." She smiled.

Gael got up and came to Angela's side, a charming smile casting on his face as he watched her move about the kitchen island counter with a gleam in her eyes.

She layered the ingredients into a powerful blender—frozen bananas, baby spinach, almond milk, and creamy peanut butter. She pureed it until smooth, transferred it to a glass, and handed it to him.

He glanced at her first and then took a huge gulp of the green smoothie.

"Well?" The anticipation in her eyes was palpable.

"It...needs a little bit of salt."

Angela narrowed her eyes until he threw his head back and laughed, clearly playing her. She slapped his arm playfully. "You're such a meanie."