“I’d like that. A lot. So,” she said, “are you finished here?”
Dad nodded. “Yeah, I think we’ve covered it all.”
“Good,” Riley said, “because I’m here to kidnap my Italian Stallions. I’ve got a huge pot of chili and a pan of homemade cornbread with your names all over it. Thought the least we could do was feed you lunch before sending you back to Philly.”
Joe wrapped a friendly arm around Riley’s shoulders. “Oh yeah. Not about to say no to that offer. Don’t tell my aunt, but your cooking is the best on the East Coast.”
“Aunt Berta would have your head if she heard you say that—and cut you off from her lasagna forever,” Tony joked.
“That’s why I said don’t tell her.”
They all laughed.
Before they could say their goodbyes, Erin showed up.
“Oh, thank goodness,” she said from the doorway. “I was afraid I’d miss you.”
Tony walked over and picked up his younger cousin, giving her a big bear hug. “Hey there, squeaker,” he said, using his nickname for her. Oliver had asked about it once and been told that when Erin was little and she got overly excited, she made a little squeaking nose, while scrunching up her face and pressing clenched fists against her mouth.
After that, he and Gavin had nagged her relentlessly until she’d demonstrated it for them. Now it had become a running joke, he and Gavin imitating it whenever they got excited about something.
Joe joined Tony and Erin, wrapping his arm around her neck to ruffle her hair as she tried to bat him away.
“Dammit, Joey. You’re messing it up. I gotta go back to work,” she said, though she was laughing.
“That’s what you get for not calling me Joe,” he said, the response a standard. Apparently he was Joe to everyone in the world with the exception of his family, who insisted he would always be Joey to them.
Oliver reached over and tugged Erin away from her cousin, wrapping his arms around her from behind. “Stop messing with my girl.”
Joe slapped him on the back. “Good man. Like the sound of that. Feel better about Layla and Erin living in Baltimore, knowing the Collins men are around to keep an eye on them.”
Erin rolled her eyes. “Sweet Jesus, Joey. Caveman much?”
“Easy there, cuz. If Aunt Berta heard you using the Lord’s name in vain, she’d wash your mouth out with soap,” Gio warned.
“Feel like I want to meet this Aunt Berta,” Riley mused. “Get the feeling we’d be good friends.”
Tony feigned a shudder. “Not sure the world is ready for that friendship.”
Erin laughed. “I concur. And while I said I left Philly for the job, the main reason was so I could expand my cursing vocabulary without fear of Aunt Berta’s bionic hearing.”
“Unless, of course, Pop Pop is around,” Oliver said with a laugh.
“Language,” Erin, Oliver, and Sean all said in unison, mimicking his grandfather.
“Do you all want to come for lunch too?” Riley asked, extending her invitation to Oliver and Erin. “There’s plenty.”
Erin shook her head. “No, thanks though. I’m only halfway through my shift. Wanted to stop by here to see my crazy cousins on my break. I’m going to grab a sandwich in the cafeteria and eat it at the nurses’ station. Between the flu bug and people taking time off for holiday events, we’re short-staffed, so I promised I wouldn’t be gone long.”
“I’m out too. Wanna keep working here,” Oliver added. “Gavin said since he was home, he’d throw together a few sandwiches for us to eat. The two of us plan to finish framing in the walls on the restaurant side.”
“How about you, Sean?” Riley asked.
Dad nodded and rubbed his stomach. “Never gonna turn down your chili, Riley.”
The Morettis packed up the photographs before following Riley and Dad outside to head over to Riley’s house.
“So Gavin’s on his way here?” Erin asked.
Oliver glanced at his phone and nodded. “Yeah. He’ll probably be here in a few minutes. You have time to wait? He’ll be pissed if he doesn’t get to steal some of the same kisses I’m aiming to grab.”
He reached out for her as he spoke, robbing her lips of those kisses. His tongue teased her lower lip until she opened her mouth for him. There was something highly addictive about kissing Erin. Maybe it was the way she always tasted like cinnamon—the woman was obsessed with Altoids—or the little mews she made as she kissed, or maybe it was the way she never held anything back.
“I love you,” he murmured. The two of them had spoken those words a thousand times in the past year, the emotion attached to them continuing to grow with each passing day.
“I love you too. I get off at four. Will you and Gavin be home for dinner?” Erin asked.
“Oh hell yeah. We’re coming home,” Oliver said, gripping her hips and pulling her even closer, letting her feel exactly what her kisses did to him. He’d pay for letting himself get so turned on, considering there was no time to take her—and nowhere to hide in the cavernous, bare pub if he did. They’d sealed off the large front window with a huge piece of clear plexiglass—rather than plywood—wanting to allow in as much natural light as possible so they could see as they worked. That meant everyone passing by on the street could glance in and see what they were doing.
Oliver had been touched over the past week by the number of patrons who’d walked by, tapped on the plexiglass, and given them encouraging smiles and thumbs-up. The support from the community had been overwhelming and wonderful.
“But there’s a different hunger I’m hoping the three of us can take care of when we get there,” he said, reluctantly releasing her.
Erin refused to break their union, wrapping her arms around his waist more tightly and resting her cheek against his chest. Erin was a huge hugger. “Something tells me after the last two nights, you’re going to be insatiable for a while.”
Oliver placed a soft kiss on the top of her head. “I haven’t had a chance to talk to you alone since…”
“Since Gavin and I…”
Neither of them seemed capable of saying the words. Oliver pulled away slightly, cupping her cheeks in his hands. “It’s as perfect as I think, right?”
Erin grinned. “More than perfect,” she whispered.
“You’re right, it is.”
They broke apart, turning toward the folding table where Gavin stood, smiling at them.
“You have a bad habit of spying on us,” Erin teased.
Oliver picked up on the joke. “Especially since it’s more fun when you actually join in rather than watch.”
“I didn’t hear you bitching about being in the audience Saturday night,” Gavin said, as he crossed the pub toward them. “In fact, seems to me, you liked watching me and Erin. A lot.”
Oliver sighed. “You got me there.” Originally, he’d intended to remain completely apart from the action for their first time, but in the end, there’d been no way he could be so close to the two loves of his life and not kiss them, touch them. “Why are you late?”
Gavin groaned and gave them an amused grimace. “I’d like to ignore that question, but I know there’s no way the guys at work aren’t going to fill you in, and I’d rather tell the story my way.”