“He showed me his gun, and I showed him mine.”

Dino laughed. “That’ll keep him off the block, anyway. Guys like Donato aren’t used to dealing with people who are as well armed as they are. You ought to be grateful to the guy, Stone; he’s a buffer between you and Dolce. As long as he’s alive, she can’t do anything permanent.”

“What makes you think she’d want to do anything permanent with me?” Stone asked.

“I don’t know, Stone. Eduardo apparently thinks highly of you, and he doesn’t have a history of admiring Dolce’s boyfriends.”

“And where are you getting this?”

“From Mary Ann, where else?”

“Dino, you’re making way too much of all this.”

“Just make sure you don’t shoot Donato; it wouldn’t be in your best interests.”

“Goodbye, Dino,” Stone said, and hung up. A moment later, the front door buzzed. Stone picked up the phone. “Yes?”

“Your dinner has arrived,” Dolce said.

58

DOLCE WALKED IN CARRYING TWO LARGE bags filled with groceries. She pecked him on the lips, handed him the bags, then walked around the living room, assessing the place. “This is nice,” she said, finally. “A little gloomy, maybe; could use some color, but it has good bones.”

“Let me show you the kitchen,” Stone said, leading the way.

She liked the kitchen better. “A girl could do good work here,” she said. “You got all the right appliances; how’d you know about that?”

“I cook a little,” Stone replied, setting down the groceries. “Can I get you a drink?”

“A little Strega, maybe.”

“Ah, I don’t have any Strega, I’m afraid.”

“Stone, you’re seeing an Italian girl, now; stock up.”

“I do have some very good olive oil.”

“Never drink it; how about a good single-malt scotch? Is that whitebread enough for you?”

“I’ve got a Laphroaig,” Stone said, looking through the kitchen liquor cabinet, “or a Glenlivet, or a Dalwhinney.”

“The Laphroaig, please; no ice, just a little cold water.”

Stone did as she asked.

She sipped the drink, then came into his arms. “Very good,” she said, kissing him. “When do I see the bedroom?”

“First food, then love,” Stone said, wondering why he had said “love” instead of “sex.”

“Fair enough,” she said, grabbing an apron from a hook and starting to unpack groceries. “By the way, you haven’t heard anything from a Johnny Donato, have you?”

“Why do you ask?”

“He’s been bothering me, but I think he’s too smart to bother you. He’s my husband.”

“He bothered me this afternoon,” Stone said. “He came to the house.”

Dolce closed her eyes and clenched her teeth. She turned and looked at Stone, contrite. “I’ll see that it doesn’t happen again,” she said.