The Mobster And The Cowboy (A Cowboy Romance) Read online

  THE MOBSTER AND

  THE COWBOY

  (A COWBOY ROMANCE)

  Mae Martini

  eBooks are not transferable. They cannot be sold, shared or given away as it is an infringement on the copyright of this work.

  THE MOBSTER AND THE COWBOY

  (A COWBOY ROMANCE)

  Copyright © 2013 by Mae Martini

  All rights are reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  This book is a work of fiction. The names and events are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or actual events are entirely coincidental. 20140727

  18 and over please. This book is a cowboy romance, full of sexy scenes as well as explicit language.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 1

  “What the....” Melanie said, shocked to see her boyfriend of three years going down on a redhead in their apartment, and in their bed, no less.

  “Babe? She don’t mean anything, babe,” Michael said, picking up his head, his blond hair unruly, as he swiped his hand across his glistening mouth.

  “Hey!” the redhead said, looking up at Michael. She then turned her attention to Melanie, and smiled and waved.

  Melanie stared a moment longer, then slammed the bedroom door closed. She picked up her purse and keys she had dropped on the hall table on her way in, picked up her computer bag she left on the floor by that same table and left, but not without slamming the front door too.

  She stood by the elevator, opposite the apartment door, pressing the down button over and over again as if that would make it come faster.

  The apartment door opened and out stepped Michael in his very expensive, black, silk boxers. “Babe, where you going?” he asked.

  “Where am I going?” Melanie asked as the tears flowed down her cheeks.

  “Babe, she don’t mean anything. I told you that, did you not hear?”

  “It’s over, Michael. No more, I can’t do this anymore.” The elevator doors opened and she stepped in it.

  “Fine, take some time to cool off,” he said, and just when the doors began to close he yelled, “But just remember, it ain’t over till I say it’s over!”

  He turned to walk into his apartment as the redheaded woman stepped out.

  “Will I see you tonight?” she asked him as she moved her hand up and stroked just under his chin with a long red fingernail.

  “Yeah, pick you up at your place at ten thirty. I got some business to take care of first.”

  With that, he closed the door to leave her out in the hall to wait for the elevator by herself.

  Chapter 2

  The plane touched down in San Antonio and Melanie breathed a sigh of relief. She not only hated to fly, but she hated to fly alone.

  After leaving the apartment she shared with Michael, she headed to her sister’s house. She hated to have to burden Ally with her problems. For one reason, and sure as shit, Ally did the ‘I told you so’ routine on her, but she had nowhere else to go on a moment’s notice.

  Ally warned her not to get mixed up with Michael, ‘Pretty Boy’, a name he was known by all his acquaintances, Fiore. In fact, every time Melanie caught him cheating, yes, it was more than once, Ally would do the routine, but Melanie was in love. Every time he got caught, he charmed his way back into her good graces. No more. Melanie had finally had enough.

  Melanie was twenty-five when Michael began wooing her after meeting her at her cousin’s wedding. Michael was six feet tall, stocky and handsome with blond hair and the greenest eyes she’d ever seen. He had a body he worked hard maintaining at the local elite gym.

  He wined and dined her. He lavished expensive gifts and vacations on her and six months later, she gave up her apartment and moved in with him.

  Things were great for the first year, but then she saw a change in him. He alienated her friends. After a while they stopped calling her.

  She began to hang out with his friends and their wives or girlfriends. She met his friend, Johnny’s wife one Saturday night and the next Friday night, she met his girlfriend. That didn’t sit well with her and when she brought it up to Michael he brushed it off like it was no big thing.

  He started to keep later and later hours away from her, not getting home till four or five in the morning and sleeping the day away. When she questioned what he was doing, all he said was ‘business, babe, don’t ask no more’.

  He used to take her out every Friday and Saturday night, but that had stopped too. They only went out on Saturday nights now. It didn’t bother her, in that she didn’t need to go out both nights. She liked being home and cuddling up with him, maybe watch a movie or read a book or spend time in bed, but he, however, went out on Friday nights and demanded that she stay home and wait for him. He would come home on Saturday mornings half cocked and smelling of woman’s perfume. When she’d question that, he’d make up some story that it was Johnny’s girlfriend’s perfume.

  One Saturday, they went to dinner with another friend of Michael’s, Frankie Fosenello, Fose, as he was known by, and his wife. In the ladies room, the wife mentioned something about Friday nights are for the goumadas and Saturday nights are for the wives. Later that night when she questioned Michael, he laughed and said his friend’s wife is an asshole and he would talk to his friend. Well, the next time they got together, Frankie Fose’s wife wouldn’t even talk to her.

  They stopped seeing Johnny. It was like he fell off the planet. No one had seen him. He just disappeared. Even Johnny’s wife didn’t know where he was. Melanie asked about it, but all Michael did was shrug.

  Yeah, something was going on and she wasn’t getting any information from him so she began to pay attention and listen. What she found out was that Michael was mobbed up in the Mazza family, and rapidly moving up. How naïve was she?

  She was familiar with the family because she grew up in the neighborhood where they had their ‘hang out’ and even knew some top guys in the family. One of them was one of her closest friends from junior high school, who, coincidentally, introduced her to Michael at that wedding, and whether she knew it or not, they knew her, as they made it their business to know everyone in their neighborhood.

  It wasn’t unusual, but it always bothered her, to see Michael beat up a person every now and then when they were out together. When she voiced her disapproval, he gave her a dangerous stare and said ‘mi
nd your business’.

  One time, this guy, at a club that they were in, was just looking at her, and Michael just beat the shit out of him and no one stopped him. He dragged her out of there after laying the guy out on the dance floor with a bloody face and not moving. Two days later she read a homicide story in the daily newspaper. She couldn’t be too sure, but she thought the picture in the paper looked like the guy in the club. She didn’t dare ask him about it.

  Melanie also found out the perfume she was smelling on him was his friend’s girlfriend’s and he was doing her. She knew this because the girl told her when she ran into her at the nail salon.

  Melanie was packing when he came home that day. He talked her out of leaving and he whisked her off to a two week vacation at Atlantis in the Bahamas.

  Things were good for a while until she walked into a club with one of her girlfriends, Robyn Montalvo, who must have felt sorry for her and went out with her. Michael was there. She watched him while he was kissing some blonde woman with way too much makeup on and very high hair. When they made eye contact, Melanie ran out of there. He ran after her. She tried to fight him off, but he was one solid mass of muscle and he dragged her to his car and drove home.

  After berating her for going out behind his back, he forced himself on her.

  When she tried to leave, he became the sweet guy she fell in love with. He took her to a romantic hideaway in Jamaica. She stayed. What was wrong with her?

  Slowly slipping away was her extroverted, easy going manner and fun loving way of life. She now saw herself as her sister kept pointing out, a shy, introvert who was a bundle of nerves.

  When she got into her rental car, she pulled out her GPS and typed in an address her brother-in-law, Joey gave her.

  His college buddy, Charlie Andrews, lived in Wimberley, Texas, but was working temporarily in California for four months. His house was vacant and it seemed highly unlikely Michael would find her there. Wimberley, Texas, was that like Bum Fuck, Idaho? Who would look for her there?

  The first place he would look was Ally and Joey’s and the second being her parent’s place in Naples, Florida. She didn’t want to bring any attention to her family so the best thing was to get out of town.

  Fortunately, she had her laptop and phone with her so she could work, but nothing else. Ally gave her some clothes to get by until she was able to buy some new stuff.

  Having grown up in the concrete jungle, Melanie was struck by how open and airy Texas was. She passed horse farms along the way and breathtaking views of fields of wild flowers. An hour and fifteen minutes later and after driving through the quaint town, she pulled up to the address.

  She was instructed to go to the house next door and retrieve a key from the old man living there.

  “Mr. Leitner?” she asked, when the man answered the door.

  “Yes.”

  “Hi. My name is Melanie Catalano, I believe you’re expecting me?”

  “Yes, yes, wait here.” He turned and walked back into his house, with a little limp, to get the key. When he came back, he told her that Charlie said all she needed to do was pay the utilities. Charlie even had a pool boy come in once a week to maintain the pool and she was to utilize the pool too.

  “Thank you, sir.” She smiled, nodded once, turned, and walked to the house next door.

  Only when she closed the door did she dare look at her cell phone. There were a few missed calls. One was her sister and one was her friend Robyn, but the other ones were Michael’s, from his cell phone and their house phone. There were even two voice messages from him. The first was sweet and he said he was sorry. The second one he demanded she call him. Of course, there were some texts from him asking her to call him. When she fired up her computer and checked her email, she saw a couple from him. She, nevertheless, ignored all his attempts to get in touch with her.

  Melanie walked around the house. It was one story, clean and modern with the master bedroom in the back. Looking out the window, she saw the beautiful swimming pool and patio. Nice! She’d definitely use that.

  Chapter 3

  The next two weeks, Melanie settled in. She didn’t go out except for some groceries, upon which, on her way out the first time, she saw the old man next door and asked if she could get him anything. He gave her a little list.

  Every time she did a grocery run, she would stop by to ask if he needed anything. They quickly became friendly. She felt sorry for him because she never saw anyone over there. Sometimes she would sit on his porch and talk with him, usually stuff about the weather and Wimberley.

  He liked to talk about rodeos too.

  She found out he was a bareback bronc rider in his heyday. He even showed her some belt buckles he was proud of winning. He told her a story for each one. He showed her some photos of him on a bucking bronc. She never tired of listening to his stories.

  She had always managed to stay vague on her life. Whenever he would ask, she would somehow steer the conversation back to him and rodeos.

  He also gave her a little tip on where to shop for woman’s attire. It seemed that his granddaughter, Geli, owned Geli’s Western Wear Boutique. A place Melanie found herself liking. She even struck up a conversation with Geli the first time she entered the store. She gave Geli her cell phone number for when a pair of boots she ordered would come in.

  She left there with a cute little black bikini and a new Baily’s Stampede, black cowboy hat among other things that day. The cowboy hat would be good to tip down and hide her face if need be.

  On another visit there, Melanie was looking through racks of T-shirts and noticed a guy by the register talking to Geli and laughing. Melanie eyed him a couple of times. He was quite striking.

  At one point, Melanie looked to him and assessed that he was tall and lean and that tight black Harley Davidson T-shirt showed off thick muscles covering his chest and arms. He had an elbow on the counter and his hand was holding up his head. He had on a cream colored, straw cowboy hat so she didn’t see his hair, but he had a thin, brown, neatly trimmed chin strap and mustache so she knew he had brown hair. His eyes, she couldn’t be too sure because she didn’t want to stare, but thought they were a light color. Hazel came to mind.

  She smiled nervously because she got caught staring at him and quickly averted her eyes. She thought she saw him smile back at her, but wasn’t too sure.

  She was done shopping but didn’t want to get near the register. She waited for him to leave by pretending to shop around. She always had this feeling that Michael sent out scouts looking for her so she tried to stay low key and draw no attention to herself. She laughed self consciously; he probably moved on and is living with the redhead by now, she thought. But there was something in the way he yelled, just when the elevator doors closed, ‘It ain’t over till I say it’s over’, that bothered her.

  Chapter 4

  Melanie tried to keep busy with work. She had a lucrative career in editing and was beginning to expand into publishing before she left Michael. He wanted her to give up work all together, but she refused and was adamant about it. He dropped it.

  “I’m sorry to put you through this, Ally.” Melanie was apologizing for the hundredth time to her sister over the phone. They talked every couple of days.

  Michael kept calling Ally asking where she was but Ally wouldn’t give up information. So far, he hadn’t been too pushy.

  “Maybe I should just come home and face him.” There was a pause as Ally spoke. “Be strong, yeah, sounds easier said than done.” Another pause. “Yeah, it seems nice here, but to tell you the truth, I’m going a little stir crazy. There’s a nice old man next door I became friendly with. He’s sweet to talk to…….Okay, I’ll keep in touch. I love you too, bye.” Ally had to get back to work.

  Just to get out, one morning, Melanie took out a manuscript she was editing, from her computer bag and headed to the diner, about ten minutes down the road by car, for some breakfast. Thank God, she had her computer with her so she could keep workin
g.

  She sat at a small booth, and across from her sat two cowboys who kept eyeing her and trying to strike up a conversation with her while they were eating their breakfast.

  “That sounds good,” one of them, the one wearing a white cowboy hat, who locked eyes with her, said to her, after she ordered a coffee and pancakes with bananas and whipped cream.

  She smiled politely at him, and then averted her eyes to her purse to pull out the manuscript.

  She noted they were kind of cute, a little old for her, but kind of cute, nonetheless. Maybe it was the cowboy hats or something. That’s something you didn’t see every day in Brooklyn, New York, where she was born and raised. Still, she didn’t want to strike up a conversation with them.

  “You have the most incredible blue eyes,” the other cowboy, who was wearing a chocolate brown hat, said to her, making it hard for her not to seem rude. She looked his way.

  “Thank you.” Again, she averted her eyes.

  The cowboy in the white hat swung his legs around and stared at her while speaking to his friend. “She sure is pretty, Marco.”

  Melanie began to get a little nervous.

  “Yep,” Marco said as he too, stared at her.

  Marco got up, about to go sit in the seat opposite her.

  Melanie shrunk back in her seat and felt trapped.

  “Hey, darlin’, sorry I’m late,” someone said in a slow southern drawl.

  Melanie looked up and saw the guy who was at the counter of Geli’s the other day sit down in the spot that Marco was going for. Melanie looked from him then to Marco and smiled.