Forever in My Heart

By Maria K. Alexander

Vicky DiFrancesco is ready to put the past behind her. After a humiliating divorce, she’s determined to make her new café a success. The last thing she needs is her first love around, reminding her of what they’d lost. But when her life is threatened, could he be the very man she needs? Jamie DiSilva’s homecoming after retiring from the army isn’t the one he’d been hoping for. Now, he’s trying to start a home improvement business in a town settled on holding him accountable for the sins of his late brothers. Redeeming himself to the girl he never stopped loving and her family is difficult when his brothers’ secrets come back to haunt him. Untangling themselves from the past means righting several wrongs and deciding if their love is meant to last forever.

• Language: English
• Publisher: The Wild Rose Press
• Release date: Feb 20, 2015
• ISBN: 9781628308105

Maria K. Alexander

A romantic at heart, this Jersey-born girl would spend hours as young girl getting lost in and wishing to be one of the heroines in the stories she read. Books gave her the ability to go to another world where she loved meeting new characters, learning about their problems, and watching them fall in love. Maria writes in her "spare" time between juggling a full-time job, her kid's busy schedules, and dreaming of writing full-time by the Jersey shore.

Book preview

Inc.

"What happened today between us can never happen again."

Because of your sister?

Because of my entire family. Kate isn’t the only member with a grudge against the DiSilva family.

Just his bad luck.

My parents and I have never done anything to warrant being shunned by them. Our parents were best friends.

That doesn’t change what your brothers did or how it’s impacted my family. It’s one thing to deal with you living in the same town. It’s another for them to accept what just happened between us.

What happens between us has nothing to do with your family, he snapped. He was tired of being judged. It wasn’t like she didn’t feel something for him. He lowered his voice and cupped her cheek. Things can be good between us, Vick. You know it.

She held his gaze, and he felt her tremble. He leaned forward, determined to convince her to give them a chance.

Her hand shot out and stopped him from doing more than graze her lips.

Stop. Nothing good will come of this. She rolled off the bed and kept her back to him.

You’re choosing them over your own happiness?

She wiped at her face before turning to him. Despite the tears that dampened her eyes, her answer was clear from the stubborn set of her chin. What choice do I have?

There’s always a choice.

And a price to pay. They’re my family. I pick them. I’ll always pick them.

Forever in

My Heart

by

Maria K. Alexander

Tangled Hearts Series, Book 2

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.

Forever in My Heart

COPYRIGHT © 2015 by Maria Ketterer

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author or The Wild Rose Press, Inc. except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

Contact Information: [e-mail]

Cover Art by Diana Carlile

The Wild Rose Press, Inc.

PO Box 708

Adams Basin, NY 14410-0708

Visit us at www.thewildrosepress.com

Publishing History

First Champagne Rose Edition, 2015

Print ISBN 978-1-62830-809-9

Digital ISBN 978-1-62830-810-5

Tangled Hearts Series, Book 2

Published in the United States of America

Dedications

To Jessica and Ryan.

May you always strive to accomplish

your heart’s desire.

~~~

To my husband, Joe, for your support and love.

~~~

To my mom for your love and encouragement.

Thanks to you and Dad for teaching me the value

of family, for the many Italian recipes, and for

explaining the difference between sauce and gravy!

~~~

To my dad who was my best guy, my hero,

and my role model. There isn’t a day goes by

that I don’t draw on your quiet strength

and remember how proud you were

of my accomplishments.

I think of and miss you every single day.

~~~

To my blog partners, The Violet Femmes,

and our continued friendship and successes.

A special thanks to RoseAnn and Joanna for

your input into making this a stronger story.

~~~

To New Jersey Romance Writers.

This story was written during the first two

Jersey Romance Writer Month (JeRoWriMo)

writing challenges. Thanks for pushing me to write

1,000 words a day, even when I thought I couldn’t.

Chapter One

Jamie DiSilva’s morning was about to be ruined by a cannoli. Hesitating outside a café in his hometown of Northeast Philadelphia, he considered his next move. Stepping inside was going to throw salt on an old wound, which is why he’d been avoiding this particular store the past month since moving back home. But desperate times called for desperate measures.

He wiped damp hands on his jeans and told himself he’d faced worse while serving in Afghanistan. How bad could seeing an old high school girlfriend be after all these years?

Suck it up, DiSilva, and own up to your mistake.

Nodding to himself, he pushed open the door and was enveloped by the aroma of fresh baked bread and sweet desserts. The sign outside proclaimed Decadent DeLites to be a place to get homemade treats that reminded you of your grandma’s kitchen, and from the tantalizing smells, it promised to deliver. Endless rows of cream-filled pastries lined the display case, and as Jamie contemplated the mouth-watering selections, he almost forgot why he was there.

Can I help you? a brunette behind the counter asked when the customer in front of him left.

Two coffees, please.

While she poured, Jamie glanced around the room. Years ago it used to be a pizzeria, and although the once red walls were now painted white, the black and white checkered floor in combination with the red vinyl booths and chairs still spoke of the past.

The clerk put the take-out cups in a cardboard tray and set them on the counter. She nodded in the direction of the display. You interested in trying something? They’re fresh out of the oven.

He eyed the case again. What harm was there in getting something sweet to take the edge off his nerves?

I’ll take two cannolis, the ones with the ricotta filling.

He glanced to the back of the store and the door that led to the kitchen. During high school, he’d worked summers in that kitchen. Sweated his ass off washing dishes and even bussed tables when one of the waitresses didn’t show.

Enough with the nostalgia bullshit, wimp ass. Do what you came in to do.

Is the owner here?

When isn’t she here? the clerk said. She’s in the kitchen. Give me a sec, and I’ll get her.

Jamie reached into his pocket for his wallet and waited while she rang up the order. Suddenly, there was a loud bang as a woman burst through the kitchen door.

Damn dishwasher is acting up again, Luce. I’m going to need to call someone to— She stopped abruptly, her eyes widening with surprise when they locked with his.

The impact of seeing Vicky DiFrancesco after all this time slammed into him like a bullet in a flak jacket—hard enough impact to knock you down, but not kill you. She must think him an idiot, staring, but the nine years since he’d seen her had transformed her from a young and innocent girl to a hot and sexy woman.

Despite her quick recovery, Jamie had seen the flash of hurt before she glared at him with an air of indifference that was all Vicky…and still sexy after all these years.

Hi, Vicky. It’s been a while.

"What the hell are you doing here?" she demanded, banging the tray of muffins she’d been carrying on the counter so hard one of them flipped off and onto the floor.

He nodded at his purchases on the counter. Picking up a late morning snack.

She pointed to the door. Get out of my store, Jamie. You’re not welcome here.

Her reaction didn’t surprise as much as disappoint him. This would be easier if she didn’t look as though she wanted to clock him with the tray of muffins.

Nice place. Looks like you’re doing pretty well for yourself. He lowered his gaze to her chest, and his cock stirred at the full mounds beneath the purple T-shirt. Someone had grown up since their teenage years.

What are you, deaf? She leaned forward and slid the cardboard takeout tray that held the bag and cups toward him. I asked you to leave.

He shook his head and tossed a ten on the counter. Not until we talk.

You’re nine years too late for talking.

Ouch. He wasn’t surprised she cut right to the chase. No bullshit with Vicky. The sad part was he deserved it.

Please, Vick. I’m asking for five minutes. He lowered his head and attempted what he hoped was a remorseful expression. For old times’ sake.

She glared at him with light brown eyes. Teddy bear eyes he used to call them, and damn if they still didn’t turn him on.

Five minutes. Grabbing the tray with his food, she stomped around the counter to a set of empty tables.

Grateful she hadn’t refused, he followed. Although she dropped the tray on a table, she remained standing, feet firmly planted, hands on her hips, and attitude rolling off her in waves.

Now that he had her attention, his mind blanked. Her dark brown hair was pulled back in a high ponytail. She smelled like berries, apples, and cinnamon, and he had to fight the urge to reach out and see if she tasted as good.

She tapped her foot. Time’s a-ticking, DiSilva.

Get with the program, man.

He cleared his throat and slid his hands into his back pockets. It was brief, but he caught her glance at his biceps—now muscular and unlike his scrawny teenage self—and purse her lips in an exasperated, but sexy, pout.

I’m sorry how things ended between us. I was a jerk after I left for basic training. Breaking it off with you in a text was wrong, but I didn’t know what else to do.

There’s something called the telephone. Maybe you’ve heard of it? It’s the other major function of a cell phone.

No matter how many ways he tried to spin it, he’d been an insensitive ass. There was also nothing he could do to change what his adolescent self had done. All he could do now was try and make her believe his apology was sincere—and it was.

You’re right. I should have called. I didn’t handle it well, and I’m sorry.

How could he put in a text or even verbalize his own realization of what he signed up for? The awareness he would be deployed somewhere dangerous and with the full understanding he might not return alive. This, along with the fact that her brother would kick his balls outside the stratosphere if Jamie touched her again, had made him break things off.

"You could have talked to me when you returned that Christmas. She held up a hand before he could interrupt. Oh wait, that would have been difficult since when I saw you then, your tongue was down Cathy Constantino’s throat."

He cringed. He’d forgotten about fun-time Cathy. Returning home after being away for months had been difficult. Basic training had changed him, prepared him—as best it could—for battle. What it hadn’t prepared him for was handling the female race. No, back then he’d still been naïve, hence the hook-up with a high school classmate. Yeah, he’d been a world class jerk.

I’m sorry. I thought staying away from you was for your own good, he said.

She gave him a tight smile. Turns out you were right. Staying away from me was the best thing you could have done. So, thanks. She started to turn away.

He reached out and touched her arm. A spark jumped between them. She must have felt it, too, because she jolted. All these years and his blood still heated up being near her.

My five minutes aren’t up.

For the love of God. She gestured upward with her hand. Continue.

I returned home a month ago and started a home improvement business. He removed a business card from his pocket and handed it to her.

Her gaze dropped, but she didn’t take it. You left the army?

I did.

Why?

Too many reasons to count, but that wasn’t important now. Nine years is a while, and it was time to come home.

What’s this have to do with me?

I’m having difficulty getting business and was hoping you’d consider me doing some work in here.

What’s wrong with the way it is?

Nothing if you still want it to look like a pizzeria.

How dare you. She stepped closer, hands now fisted by her side. You have some nerve coming in here insulting my café.

I’m not trying to insult it, but come on, Vick. He waved his hands around the room. It still looks like your parents’ place. I could replace the floor, repaint, and freshen it up.

When she started to talk, he held up his hand. Not a lot of changes, just enough to make it look different and more like a modern café. And not something from the eighties. It would be a win-win for both of us.

She was shaking her head before he even finished. No way am I going to have you in here messing up my place. I have plans to fix it up, and I’ll get to it when I’m ready.

All I’d ask is for you to cover the cost of the supplies. What are you afraid of?

Her nostrils flared, and he knew he’d lost her.

She pointed a finger in his chest—or tried to—and winced when it didn’t make a dent. I’m not afraid of anything. I don’t need you or your help.

But he needed her, and maybe for more than redeeming his family’s tainted reputation it seemed, based on the throbbing of his heart.

He lowered his voice. We used to be close, Vick. He took a step forward and wasn’t deterred when she took one back. As close as two people can get.

That was a long time ago. I’m no longer the naïve girl who can be charmed by you.

He flashed a dimpled smile. As I recall, you did a fair amount of charming. If your brother hadn’t interrupted us—

But he did. Her cheeks flushed in anger…or maybe embarrassment. Nick was right about you. You’re trouble. Just like your brothers were.

His own temper flared, and he grabbed her wrist. That’s not fair. You know I’m not like them.

Her gaze dropped to his hand. Do I?

He released his grip. There were no similarities between him and his brothers, and she damn well knew it…or at least she used to.

You’re not welcome here. She picked up the pastry bag and shoved it hard into his chest. Get out.

When she turned to leave, he got a view of how well her jeans hugged her ass—and what a sweet ass it was.

Don’t come back, she called over her shoulder. "Otherwise, I will call my brother."

With that parting comment, she disappeared into the kitchen.

Of all the scenarios he pictured, that went as badly as he’d imagined. He pulled away the bag and grimaced at the ruined cannoli filling that had broken through the flimsy paper and dampened his T-shirt.

What a waste of a good pastry.

You heard her. Please go, the clerk said, now as annoyed as her boss.

Yeah, he was doing a real bang-up job racking up friends in town. Guess he wouldn’t be sending them any friend requests.

Nodding, he picked up the tray and strode out the door.

Outside, he glanced at the sign in the front window. A little taste of Italy with the sass of Philly. Yeah, they sure as hell served plenty of sass. A slight smile lifted the corner of his mouth. Good thing he liked a little sass in a woman. It would make redeeming himself to Vicky and the town all the more interesting.

****

Vicky grabbed several pastry boxes off the shelf and slammed them onto the stainless steel table in the middle of the kitchen. Jamie DiSilva. Here. In her place of business.

Seeing him after all these years, and at a time when she was finally getting traction with her life, was like a slap in the face. After overcoming a humiliating divorce in addition to her own insecurities, Vicky had finally found herself and her passion for the future. Decadent DeLites had only been open a couple months. Although business had been promising, it was going to take all her energy to sustain the crowds and grow the business the way she wanted.

The last thing she needed was a setback in the form of Jamie DiSilva and a reminder of the uncertain teenager she’d once been. Back then it seemed as though no one understood what she’d been feeling—hell, she’d barely understood it at the time. But Jamie got it. Also the youngest in his family, he could relate to living in the shadow of his siblings.

Once she’d gotten to know him and seen his own vulnerabilities, so similar to hers, it was easy to open up and admit her fear of being nothing. And it wasn’t one-sided. He’d shared his own frustrations with his family, especially his brothers. Over that brief summer when she was seventeen, this boy, who she’d known since she was a baby, became her best friend—and more.

That’s why it’d hurt when, knowing her anxieties, he’d pushed her away after leaving for the army. Pushed her away as though what they’d shared meant nothing. And maybe it didn’t…to him. But to her, it had been everything.

Recollection of that evening—the last one before he left for boot camp—stained her cheeks pink with arousal. After all this time, was it possible that memories of this man could still make her blush…and yearn for what could have been?

With her fingers pressed to her temples, she attempted to rub away the throbbing ache. It would be okay…she would be okay. It had taken her all these years to grow up and learn her own self-worth. Now, she was no longer a helpless young girl who would follow versus lead. Her café was off to a successful start, and she refused to allow someone to dictate her actions. No way. No how.

She needed to put all thoughts of Jamie DiSilva far from her mind—not necessarily an easy feat. Feeling slightly better after taking a few deep breaths, she began assembling the boxes.

Her best friend, Lucy, burst into the kitchen. Are you okay?

I will be.

I’m sorry, Vick. I never knew him, although the reputation of his family and his brothers is familiar enough, her friend rambled.

Yeah, Salvatore and Mario DiSilva were quite unforgettable, and not in a good way.

You didn’t do anything wrong. Besides, you were too busy ogling him, Vicky replied.

Was not.

Vicky narrowed her eyes. Yeah, right.

Lucy blew out a breath. Okay, I may have been totally captivated by his face. His eyes are such a dark blue, and then there’s that thick black hair.

His hair had been shorter than Vicky remembered, though still long enough to show its natural wave. And with the scruff of an unshaven face, he’d looked sexy and dangerous.

Then there was his body. I mean, did you see those shoulders? Lucy continued, fanning her face at the memory.

Despite Vicky’s shock and anger at seeing him, it was hard to miss Jamie’s broad shoulders along with the bulging biceps. His form-fitted T-shirt, which showcased a firm chest and trim waist, was tucked into a pair of well-worn jeans. Vicky knew those long legs would be lean and muscular—and just as fine as the rest of him.

I hadn’t noticed, Vicky said, placing pies in the boxes.

Now who’s lying? You’d have to be dead not to notice. Did you see the tattoo on his arm? I couldn’t see all of it, but it looked like a military insignia.

He joined the army after high school.

When was that?

My junior year. He left at the end of the summer following his graduation.

And what a summer it had been. She’d spent three weeks at the Jersey shore—Wildwood Crest—like her family did every year. As usual, the DiSilva family came, too, and stayed in the top apartment of the duplex they rented.

Back then, Vicky’s older sister, Kate, had been married to the middle DiSilva son, Mario. Vicky had to share a room with them and pretend to ignore the times the bedroom door was locked and she couldn’t get her portable CD player.

Jamie’s oldest brother, Sal, worked and came out occasionally. Which was fine with Vicky since she never liked the creep vibe she got around him, a telling sign of what would transpire years later. Too bad he couldn’t have gone into the military instead of Jamie. With her own brothers at the shore occasionally, the only person Vicky had to hang out with was Jamie.

She supposed it was natural for them to hook up after spending days on end only clad in bathing suits. They’d gotten close that summer, messing around until that fateful night right before he left for boot camp. While she’d thought she’d put the past behind her, seeing Jamie dredged up all those memories and the humiliation that went along with them.

Is he as messed up as his brothers? Lucy asked.

He never was. I’m not sure about now.

So what’s the story between you two? There were serious sparks flying out there.

We have a history…of sorts.

Of sorts?

Vicky exhaled. I’ll share the sordid details later, ’kay?

Damned straight. I need details. Lucy held out the business card Jamie had pulled out earlier. He dropped this.

Vicky took the card and studied it closely. Two Guys Home Improvement was printed across the top. Interesting but not surprising. Jamie’s talented hands had saved her family on more than one occasion from needing to call a repairman for the dishwasher when the café had been a pizzeria. She rubbed her lips together to suppress a sigh. Thoughts of Jamie’s talented hands were hard to forget and transcended fixing appliances.

Do you think he’ll return? He didn’t seem too intimidated by your threat to call the cops, Lucy asked, jolting Vicky back to reality.

Although it had been a long time since she’d seen Jamie, the challenge in his eyes had been clear. He wouldn’t back down from her threat or from a couple broken pastries. Rather, he’d see it as an opportunity to worm his way back into her life.

At least she had the satisfaction of shoving the bag in his chest—his ridiculously rock hard chest. She hoped she smashed whatever he’d gotten—cannolis used to be his weakness—although it was a complete waste of her hard work.

Yeah. I think he’ll be back. Let me know when he is. I don’t want you getting in the middle of this.

Vicky closed the lids on the pies, grabbed a long cardboard box, and stacked them inside. Then, she reached into the refrigerator and removed several other boxes, handing them to Lucy. I’m going to bring these over to the trattoria for today’s lunch and dinner crowds before my mom calls and asks where I am. I won’t be long. Call my cell if you need me.

Before opening the trunk of her SUV and loading the box, Vicky scanned the back alley, something she’d been doing since the incident earlier in the year involving Sal. Call her crazy, but paranoia kicked in after seeing Jamie. Not that she thought he’d hurt her, but then again, she hadn’t thought Mario and Sal would have done the crazy things they’d done to her sister and their family.

No, she needed to keep her eyes open and stay on full alert around Jamie. Aside from the psycho gene that ran in his family, she couldn’t forget the way he’d hurt her. And she didn’t need any more drama, especially after the shame from her divorce. Given her track record with choosing the wrong men, she’d stick to being on her own for a while. With her priorities clear, it was time to focus on her life and the café. Who needed a man anyway?

Chapter Two

Jamie squinted against the bright rays of the sun and flicked on the sunglasses that hung from the collar of his shirt. The beauty of the warm April morning dimmed after his crash and burn with Vicky. He needed