The Boss (Men of Hidden Justice #1) Read Online Melanie Moreland

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Dark, Romance, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: Men of Hidden Justice Series by Melanie Moreland
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Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 66506 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 333(@200wpm)___ 266(@250wpm)___ 222(@300wpm)
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I knew Sal was in the house. I had heard him earlier. Unlike Marcus, he checked on me rather than constantly being beside me. I preferred it, given our more distant relationship. Sal would work in the office until Matteo arrived home, and then he would leave unobtrusively. There were men outside, but I rarely saw them. They watched the house from another building, making sure the grounds were safe. I was looking forward to the day when it was only Matteo and me and our family.

As it was, it was only Sal and me today, as Roza and Lila were having a shopping day. Gianna and Vince were out on their own for a rare excursion outside the gates. I had used my exhaustion as an excuse not to go. I wanted to be home when Matteo arrived, and I was too tired to walk much. The rest of Matteo’s men were with him.

I stepped outside, breathing in the fresh air. It was going to be a lovely autumn day, the temperature above normal. I approached the men working in the garden with a smile.

“Good morning!”

They all looked up with smiles as they greeted me. “Good morning, Mrs. Campari.”

“It’s going to be warm. I have water in the refrigerator and some of those crunchy bars you all love. The door is open to the shed, so please help yourself.”

They all thanked me.

My favorite crew member came around the corner. “Hi, Mrs. Campari.”

I smiled. “Hi, Tom. Haven’t seen you the last couple of weeks.”

He shook his head. “Yeah, bit under the weather.”

“Well, I hope you’re better.”

He nodded. “Much. You’re up early.”

I chuckled, rubbing my stomach. “Someone is kicking. You can start cutting the grass anytime. I’m awake, so you won’t disturb me.”

“Great.”

I sat down with a sigh as the crew started back to work.

“Are you okay, Mrs. Campari?”

I smiled. “Aside from my craving and missing my husband, I’m good.”

“Craving?” Tom grinned. “My wife had those bad. What are you wanting?”

“Grape jelly sandwiches on white bread. With gobs of butter.”

He laughed. “Are your supplies low?”

“Empty.”

“Oh, that’s bad news.”

I nodded.

“I’ll run and pick up some for you.”

“I can’t ask you to do that.”

He waved his hand. “You didn’t—I offered. Jack won’t mind. I’ll run to the store, grab the stuff, and be back in ten minutes.” He studied me earnestly. “My wife would expect me to help out another pregnant woman.”

I hesitated. Tom was a newer addition to the crew. He wasn’t always here, but I liked him. He had helped me one day when I stumbled, reaching out to steady me with a knowing grin, explaining his wife had the same trouble now that she was “top-heavy” too.

We had started talking, and I discovered he was intelligent and kind. He was missing two fingers on one hand—a “hazard of the job” he had told me when I finally got up the courage to ask him.

“I learned to handle all the equipment again. But I prefer the actual work. I love digging in the dirt. There is something very satisfying about planting and nurturing things,” he said in his quiet voice.

He spoke of his wife a lot, and I enjoyed our conversations. Bald with dark eyes, he wore hats most of the time and worked hard. He never approached me if Matteo or Marcus were around, and I had a feeling they intimidated him. He seemed quite shy, and I could understand his feelings.

“Please, Mrs. Campari. It’s not a problem.”

I gave in. I was desperate. “Okay. Let me get you the money.”

He followed me into the kitchen, waiting by the door.

“Darn it, my purse is in the hall. I’ll be right back.”

“Sure.”

I hurried as fast as I could and returned to the kitchen with some cash. He was in the same spot, looking around with curiosity. “My wife would love this kitchen.”

“It’s a nice one,” I agreed and handed him the money.

“I’ll be back fast. Okay if I go through the garage to the truck?”

“Sure. You’re a lifesaver.”

“No problem.”

He came back in about fifteen minutes, knocking on the garage door. I opened it with a smile. “I didn’t hear the truck.”

“I parked farther down the driveway.” He carried the bag to the counter. “I got Smuckers, like you asked.” He held up the jar.

I reached for it. “Thank you.”

He smiled. “No problem, Mrs. Campari. Enjoy your sandwiches.”

He slipped out the door, and I made my sandwich, sighing in satisfaction as I bit through the soft bread. I ate two sandwiches, drank a tall glass of milk, and sat back, replete.

“Better, baby?” I asked quietly, running my hand over my stomach. I looked around the kitchen with a smile. “Now if only Daddy would get home, it would be perfect.” I yawned, feeling sleepy. “Maybe a nap would help pass the time.”

A couple of hours later, after a nap and a shower, I dressed in a pretty skirt and blouse, wanting to look nice for Matteo when he got home later. I loved the skirt with its lace trim and deep pockets—I often carried a snack in one, which made Matteo chuckle.



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