“Grandma,” she tells me again. “Family or not, it’s my preference. Ma’am is for strangers.”
“Yes, Grandma,” I reply, the word sounding so foreign on my tongue.
“Thank you,” she says with the biggest smile, and goddamn it if the simple look doesn’t make me feel all the warm and fuzzy bullshit I’ve avoided my entire life. “Her father was something else when he was young. He forgets about his days before he settled down. I know more than a few people who thought he was an asshole too. A different type of asshole from your father, but still an asshole. Probably the same type of asshole you may be now, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t a good and honorable man.”
I seriously love this woman. The way she can so easily throw around profanity and somehow make it sound normal coming from her lips is astounding.
“He didn’t get the asshole from me,” her husband says, holding up his hands. “He got that part of him from your side of the family.”
Her eyes slice to her husband, and her hands move to her hips as she drops one shoulder. “Why are you trying my patience tonight, Sal?”
He walks toward her, sliding his arm around her middle, and hauls her against him. “Darling, you never liked easy.”
She stares at him, her body melting into his as they stare into each other’s eyes. “You’re impossible.”
“You love me,” he tells her, and it’s not a question.
“Sometimes,” she whispers.
“You love me,” he repeats.
I’ve never seen a relationship like theirs. They’ve shown more love and caring toward each other in a few minutes than most men show their wives in the years I’ve been around them. I want what they have. I want something that endures decades.
“Almost done?” Rosie asks as I stare at her grandparents, still balancing on the ladder with the light.
“Can you hand me the drill, Ro?”
She nods, carefully bending over to retrieve the power drill. There’s a smile on her face when she hands it off to me. “Who knew you had skills.”
“You have no idea,” I tell her with a wink before taking the drill from her hands as she stands on her tiptoes to give it to me.
Rosie blushes and bites the corner of her lip, making my knees a little weak with all my dirty thoughts.
I push the images from my mind, knowing this isn’t the place or time to have them, and I get back to work. Within minutes, the light is secured and ready to go.
“Give it a try,” I tell her grandmother, staying up near the light in case I fucked shit up.
She flips the switch and claps as the foyer fills with light. “Well done, Dylan,” she says.
“What’s that?” Rosie’s grandfather asks, and I glance down, finding him close to her face, zeroing in on the remnants of her bruise.
“Nothing,” Rosie says, turning her head.
Her grandfather gently takes her face in his hands, moving her injured side back to the light. “What happened? Who did this?”
Her grandmother walks over, gasping when she notices the purple underneath Rosie’s makeup.
I hold my breath, worried they’ll think somehow I was involved in putting that mark on her skin.
“That was the sticky situation Dylan rescued me from,” Rosie answers, pulling her face away from his hands.
“Did a woman do that?” he asks Rosie.
Rosie shakes her head. “No, but I don’t know who he was either. He was messing with Luna, and I tried to stop him.”
“You’re a good sister, Rosie.” Her grandfather peers up at me, murder in his eyes. “I hope he looked worse than her.”
“Made sure of it, sir,” I say, climbing down the rungs of the ladder, thankful I’m not going to get blamed for shit I didn’t do.
When my boots touch the tile, he places his hand on my shoulder, tightening his grip. “I can never thank you enough for stepping in and saving our girl.”
“It was nothing.”
His fingers tighten even more but not to an uncomfortable level. He’s trying to keep me in place and keep my full attention. “It’s not nothing. It was honorable and good. Men are pussies today. The fact that you stepped in and put him in his place speaks volumes about you as a person.”
“Thank you.”
“No, son, thank you,” he says softly with a smile on his face.
Rosie’s grandmother moves across the small space to stand next to her husband. “The least I can do is feed you, for your help tonight and for saving our baby.”
My smile is easy because they’re solid human beings. “I’ll never turn down a meal.”
Good people like Rosie don’t just happen. She’s a product of her environment…goodness is ingrained in her. My biggest fear is no matter how hard I try or how good I am, I’ll always be a product of mine.
“Sal, get the man a beer, and I’ll grab the food,” Mrs. Gallo says, brushing her fingertips against her husband’s cheek in a sweet and loving manner. “We’re going to talk about how to handle our troublemaker son and get him to see the man who’s in front of us now and not a memory of the man he’s never been.”
“Sweet Jesus,” Rosie mutters. “I don’t think that’s a good—”
Her grandmother looks over her shoulder. “You like this boy?”
I hold in my laughter. Boy. I’m thirty-five. I haven’t been a boy in a long time, but I don’t dare say anything. I assume if I ever make it to their age, everyone will look like a kid to me.
Rosie’s cheeks turn a deep shade of pink as her grandmother watches her closely.
“Yeah, you like this boy,” Mrs. Gallo says before turning back to me. “You don’t worry about my son. In this family, I’m the boss. If I say you’re good people, then you’re good people. He acts all big and bad, but he’s a momma’s boy and will never cross me. You let me handle him, okay?”
“Okay,” I say softly, ready to watch the wild ride of how Joseph “Asshole” Gallo is about to be put in his place by his momma.
I want Rosie more than anything, but watching her father get schooled by his mom makes it all that much sweeter.
“I have no doubt you’re the boss, ma’am,” I tell her and earn myself a raised eyebrow and cocked head. “Grandma.”
“Better.” She nods and relaxes. “Come on. I don’t want to burn the food. Rosie, get your man and take him to the table, and Sal, grab him a drink.”
And just like that, I have an in.
15
ROSIE
The apartment is dark when we get back from my grandparents’. Luna texted me earlier, saying she would be out for the night and that I should take full advantage of the alone time with Dylan.
Dylan’s kicked off his boots and has made himself at home on my couch, watching me as I move around the kitchen and waste time. My stomach flips every time I glance his way and find him studying me with a sinful smile.
Shit. I did my best not to like the guy. I made it clear the first time I saw him at the restaurant after I was ditched that there was no place for him in my life. I backed up that story more than once, but now I’m faltering.