“I told you already! It’s on the table!” The older woman cursed under her breath, saying something about my mother she choked on when she caught me watching her as I stopped in the hallway and nodded to her, shooting my aunt a grin. “Dimitri? You’re late. You brought the jam?”
“It’s here.” I moved into the kitchen, a massive industrial-looking room with concrete counter tops and a metal top island that was covered with trays of food—bacon, eggs, fette biscottate and croissants. So much of it my stomach growled just as the scent hit my sinuses. “How late am I?”
“Santino has already said prayers…and you know how your father loves to go on with those… and Dante is telling Maggie about you and that loose little girl you took to Junior prom, so I’d say two mimosas in.”
“Maggie’s here?”
Maria’s grin was slow to move over her face, but when it did, I got the feeling there’d be a shit-ton of questions flying out of her mouth I had no intention of answering. She took the jam out of my hands, hugging the brown paper bag to her chest. “Is that a problem?” Her small head bobbed as she inched a look over my shoulder, toward the dining room, before she glanced up at me. “I thought you two were…ya know…” The woman made a sharp whistling sound with her teeth while waggling her eyebrows and I decided that was all the nosey ass questioning I could take from my aunt.
“Dimitri,” she tried when I turned away from her, heading into the dining room.
“Son,” my father said, slapping my shoulder when I reached down to kiss the top of his head. “You’re late.”
“Had to get the jam.”
My father waved me off, motioning to the coffee pot in front of him as I sat at the only empty seat left at the table. Predictably, it was next to Maggie who seemed to be half-listening to Dante, mostly watching as my kid brother feed Mateo small bites of buttery croissants.
“Morning,” I told her, leaning close enough to catch a hint of her perfume, not so close that it would linger on my suit when I walked away from the table.
“Hola, Smoke,” she said, that sweet, low murmur of a greeting doing more to work me up than the peak of her cleavage I caught when Mateo reached toward her and pulled down the front of her shirt.
“What was that girl’s name,” my youngest brother blurted, leaning across the table. He snapped his fingers like whatever name he was trying to come up with was on the tip of his tongue and irritating me was gonna help him along with it. “You know the one with the big…”
“Dante,” our mother said, calling across the table, over the noise of her sister and brother-in-law and Dario who screamed into his cell like he was a trader on Wall Street. “Don’t bother your brother with such things.” To me, Ma pointed at a dish of some casserole brimming with eggs and cheese. “Eat before it’s cold, Dimitri.”
“It’s always like this, si?” Maggie adjusted the kid, her smile easy, amused as she shifted him onto her lap. Anytime she came around my family, she seemed to get caught in the middle of some chaos, and every time she did, Maggie’s eyes got wide and wild, like she’d never seen anything like us before.
“Like what?” I shot a frown at Dario when his voice got too loud, clearing my throat to get his attention. He glanced around the table, waving at our father in apology.
“Loud.”
“Bella,” I started, shooting her a smile. “You’ve been around us six months now. You’re not used to this bullshit yet?”
“It’s not…bullshit…” Even cursing, the woman was beautiful, and hearing it, seeing how her cheeks flushed, how she glanced toward my mother, like she thought saying something crude in front of her would be disrespectful, did nothing to harden the soft spots the woman had made of my heart.
Fuck. I sounded like some moony punk writing Hallmark cards.
Downing my coffee, I tried to ignore the way she smelled and that sweet, lingering smile she gave me. It was stupid, thinking I could forget anything about her, but things were starting to get to me. She was getting to me.
“Maggie,” Dante said, his voice a little high, like he’d had more than the two mimosas Maria thought, “you should make plans to come with us to the lake house for the Fourth next month.”
“Oh, that’s a wonderful idea,” Ma said, clapping her hands. Despite how she’d reacted last night when Maggie had refused her bag, the woman seemed to light up at my kid brother’s suggestion. “He’d love it there and God knows you could do with a break.”
“Oh…I don’t know.” Next to me, Maggie shifted in her seat, moving the kid to stand when he wiggled. He balanced on her lap, grinning around the table like he knew he had everyone’s attention.
“You can’t say no,” Dante told her, polishing off the last of his mimosa. “It’ll be fun and I’m sure Smoke will take you to Bradford’s cliff. You’ll like that most of all.”
The asshole’s stupid smirk didn’t lower when I glared at him. I wiped my mouth, gaze on my little brother until he finally had the good sense to stop grinning at me.
“What’s…Bradford’s cliff?” Maggie said, holding onto the kid’s hands as he balanced on her lap.
“It’s where Smoke always took his…”
“It’s where Dante will end up if he doesn’t keep his mouth shut,” I interrupted my kid brother.
“Still,” Ma said, waving to get us quiet. “Maggie, you should come. You and the baby. We always try to get out of town for the Fourth, and last year, well, there was too much going on.” My mother shook her head, refusing to look at Dario or Dante. Last year was the first we’d spent together since those two assholes came home. The lake house would have been a bad idea. Too many cliffs. Too much water. Way too many places to hide a body if they pissed each other off.
“I…well, thank you for the invitation, Mrs. Carelli…” At my ma’s frown, Maggie gave her a smile, then stood, likely figuring the offer of handing the kid over would make up for still refusing to call Ma, “Mrs. Carelli” and not “mama.”
“Let’s see you,” Ma said, reaching for Mateo when Maggie held him out to her. “Oh…you’re getting more and more handsome every time I see you.”
“You saw him two days ago,” Pop said, smiling.
My folks had taken to the kid as if he was their grandson and the thought should have bothered me. But as Maggie helped Maria clear away the dishes, ignoring whatever bullshit Dante said to her, and my folks played with the baby, taking turns talking to him like idiots, I couldn’t find it in me to be pissed. Fact was, he was the closest thing they had to a grandson. The thought twisted something in my chest.
“Hey,” she said to me, that pretty smile widening as she leaned over me to grab my empty plate. “I need a favor, but you gotta promise not to laugh at me.”
“Bella, would I laugh at you?”
“Yes, he would,” Dante cut in, howling when I flipped him the bird.
“Name it,” I told Maggie, taking the plates in her hands from her before I made her sit next to me.
“My Outback—”