Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 76456 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76456 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
“Yeah, that’ll never happen,” Emilio said, shaking his head.
“Do you have a brother like that?”
“My brother seems to have a rare talent for fucking up his own life all the time. He doesn’t need my help. Do you have siblings?” he asked.
“No. I’m an only child. I really only have my cousin.”
“So this is going to be a culture shock for you,” he said as he got me a cup.
“I’m kind of looking forward to it,” I said, shrugging.
“Good,” he said, reaching for his phone as it rang. “Because you’re about to be very in demand. Sorry I can’t be a better host,” he said, grimacing at his phone. “I have to take this.”
“No, please, don’t worry about it,” I assured him, giving him a smile, but he was already distracted as he brought his phone up to his ear as he walked away.
I finished making my coffee.
And it was about ten minutes later, the coffee gone, that my anxiety started to niggle at me.
There were dishes in the sink, so I turned my attention to them, washing, putting them in the drainboard, then drying and finding their homes before I started to scrub the sink itself.
“You must be Mere,” a soft female voice said, making my stomach drop as I whirled around, a soapy sponge still in my hand.
And there she was, a pretty, petite, dark-haired woman with a baby on her hip.
“I’m so sorry,” I said, suddenly realizing what I was doing. Cleaning someone else’s home. Without permission. She must have thought I was a psychopath.
“Are you kidding me?” she asked, beaming. “Don’t ever apologize for doing my dishes,” she said. “They probably would have sat there another day at least otherwise. This little monster is in a clingy phase. I haven’t showered in two days either,” she admitted, wincing. “Would you tell me if I smelled?” she asked. “Lorenzo said he would, but he’s a total liar. You know, in a good way. He told me I was beautiful with my head in the toilet with morning sickness kind of good way. But a liar nonetheless. And I’d really like not to smell.”
“You don’t,” I assured her.
“I’m Giana. Lorenzo’s wife,” she said. “And you are the woman from the flower store.”
“I am,” I agreed, nodding.
“Word to the wise, maybe don’t advertise that you’re a florist to the family. Or you will be arranging flowers for every event from tomorrow until the day you die. It’s why Cesare’s sister, Lore, doesn’t cook often, even though she’s the best in the whole family. Are the boys talking?” she asked, glancing around.
“Yeah. About the whole… Maine thing,” I said.
“They have a lot of their little meetings. And you are always welcome to tag along and do my dishes,” she said. “Clean the weird, sludgy bag of vegetables out of the back of my produce drawer, move the family of spiders out of my closet corner…” she said, smile getting warmer the more she spoke. “What I am saying here is… welcome to the family. Here’s a baby,” she said, practically tossing her kid at me and turning to almost run out of the room.
I stood there frozen for a moment while the baby looked up at me, wide-eyed, lower lip trying to decide to tremble or not.
“Hey, you,” I said in a chipper voice. “I think your mommy really needed that shower. You really should let her do that every once in a while, you know,” I told him as I settled him on my hip, then went back to rinsing down the sink.
That was exactly how Cesare came upon us a moment later.
And the look in his eyes, God, it made my heart swell up in my chest.
“Gotta say, I like how that looks,” he said, nodding.
“Are babies frequently thrown at you in this family?” I asked.
“Yes,” he said almost immediately, giving me a smile. “And there are a lot of them. Everyone reproduces like rabbits around here. He likes you. And he doesn’t like anyone but his mom.”
“I used to babysit,” I reminded him. “I like kids.”
“Yeah? You want to have some?” he asked, moving closer, his gaze intense.
“Some?” I repeated.
“Or a shitton of ‘em,” he clarified.
“Did you like being a part of a big family?” I asked.
“I mean, I pitied my dad. We were a nightmare and he was so outnumbered. But yeah. You always had someone to get into trouble with around.”
“I think I’d like that. For my kids. To have friends around. It was kind of lonely being an only child.”
“You think maybe you want to have a bunch of those kids with me?” he asked, a hint of vulnerability in his voice.
“I think I’ve never really given it any thought until you,” I admitted. Then, feeling a little exposed, I rushed to change the subject. “I met Emilio and Brio.”