The Woman on the Jury (Costa Family #7) Read Online Jessica Gadziala

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Dark, Mafia Tags Authors: Series: Costa Family Series by Jessica Gadziala
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Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 77579 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 388(@200wpm)___ 310(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
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“Yeah, it seems like his father was physically and emotionally abusive. Which has made this thing with us… challenging for him. But he said he wants to try.”

“That’s a lot from a powerful man like him,” she said, grabbing some sweet & sour chicken, then opening the box for the pizza.

“Yeah,” I agreed. “He’s an asshole, but he’s… he’s nice. To me.”

“That’s like the ultimate goal, isn’t it?” she asked, passing me a container with pasta and meatballs in it. “To be a strong man’s weakness? I could swoon just thinking about it,” she said, pressing a hand to her heart. “I’m so incredibly happy for you and not at all jealous,” she said, making me laugh.

“I can ask if any of his cousins are single. There’s like a million of these guys. What?” I asked as her smile went lascivious.

“Just… having a moment,” she said, closing her eyes. “Imaging myself with half a dozen of those yummy guys,” she added. “Oh, that’s right, baby, help him take off his shirt for mama,” she said, making me toss a noodle at her.

“I think you need to spend less time with your vibrator, and get a man on top of you,” I told her.

“That would be funny if it wasn’t so painfully true,” she admitted. “I upgraded to a plug-in vibe because I was going through so many batteries. Anywho,” she said, shaking her head at herself. “When’s the wedding?” she asked.

God, this was exactly what I’d been needing.

Someone to talk about this whole situation with.

I was kicking myself for not reaching out to her sooner, to listen to her tease and laugh, to playfully remind me not to take myself and everything so seriously. To stop analyzing. To just enjoy.

“So, what about the shop?” she asked a while later as we both put our plates on the coffee table. I’d needed to pop the top button of my jeans, prompting Lauren to lift her shirt and show me the little bits of elastic on the sides of her waistband that she called ‘lifesavers for a stress eater.’

“Cosimo said he was going to figure that out soon. He knows I want to get back to it. But I have to let him make sure it’s safe. Especially after the attack…” I said, then launched into all those ugly details.

Lauren sat back when I was done, exhaling hard.

“Can we be sister-wives?” she asked, making me jolt back, surprised.

“What?”

“I mean, like, the moral of that whole story is he saw a threat, and immediately tried to protect you from it. When his first attempt failed, he went all-out. And during that, he fed, spoiled, and fucked you senseless. It’s just not fair that one woman gets to have all of that,” she said. “Stop being a selfish bitch and share with your best friend,” she said. But then she reached over, brushing my bangs off my forehead, and checking out the cuts there. They were healed, but still red. “I owe this man a big thank you for keeping you safe. Do you think he accepts nature’s credit card?” she asked, waving down at her body.

“He’s mine. Go offer your credit card to Miko,” I said.

“I think you’re right,” she said, suddenly serious.

“About what?”

“That he’s yours. That your his. I really think this might be it for you. And I get that it’s… unconventional. But I’m so happy you found the guy who appreciates how special you are. God, remember Brian?” she asked, lip curling. “Forgot your birthday, anniversary, and Valentine’s Day? Then had the nerve to act like you were being irrational for dumping his ass. I bet Cosimo orders a mean flower arrangement.”

I bet that was probably true.

If there was one thing the man did well, it was excess.

Lauren and I cleaned up dinner, and found a bottle of wine.

And you could say the conversation devolved from there. In the best way possible. Until we were laughing so hard that our stomachs hurt.

Eventually, the door popped open, and Cosimo walked in to me strutting—and by ‘strutting,’ I mean ‘stumbling’ thanks to all the wine—in the little black dress that Jeffrey had picked out for me to a clapping and cheering Lauren, who was on her belly on the floor, snapping pictures on her phone.

“And from the men’s collection, we have Cosimo Costa wearing the McYummy suit. Come on, give us a strut!” Lauren said in a deep imitation of an announcer voice.

“Absolutely fucking not,” he said, but his lips were twitching. “Seems like you two have had fun,” he said.

“You know, I just need a pillow. A pillow and a blanket,” Lauren said, letting out a big yawn. “I’m just gonna sleep right here.”

“You can’t sleep on the floor… without me,” I said, kicking out of my shoes, and nearly taking out the glass door with one of the heels with it as I tried to lower down next to Lauren. Only to have Cosimo’s hands grab me, and pull me back onto my feet.



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