“I do,” I say without opening my eyes or looking up. I’m so comfortable, I don’t want to leave the serenity of his arms.
“Hello!” Betty calls from the front of the shop. “Anyone here?”
“Christ,” Angelo mutters against my hair.
I laugh, loving the way his family is all up in each other’s shit. It’s something I never had but always wished I did.
“Back here.” I release my hold on him and put some distance between us.
Betty comes stalking through the swinging door, dressed to the nines like she’s about to head out for a swanky lunch date. “There you two are.” She eyes us both like she knows something’s going on.
She looks luminous in her bright green sweater and skinny jeans. For an older woman, she has a smoking hot body, looking at least ten years younger than her actual age.
“Hey, Ma.” Angelo rubs the back of his neck.
“Hi, Betty.”
“Hey, doll.” She grabs my arms and pulls me toward her to kiss my cheek. “I know you two are busy, but I wanted to let you know we’re having a family dinner tonight.”
“But it’s not Sunday, Ma.”
Her red-painted lips flatten. “I know, but Vinnie’s home for another day, and I want to do something special for him before he leaves.”
“We have plans,” he tells her.
She smiles. “You do. Dinner at my place at seven.”
“But what about the bar?”
“I got it covered. That includes you, Tilly. I’m sure you could use a good home-cooked meal.”
Angelo leans over, placing his mouth next to my ear. “Don’t let her fool you. Her cooking is horrible,” he whispers.
I stare at Betty with wide eyes as she glares at him. “I heard that, smartass. Daphne and Delilah are cooking.”
“It’ll be halfway edible, then.” He laughs.
“It doesn’t matter how good the food is. The most important thing is that we’re together as a family,” his mother tells us.
“I know, Ma.”
“Maybe we should just reschedule,” I say.
Betty shakes her head. “No, dear. You’re a part of us now.”
“I am?” My mouth hangs open.
Betty grabs my shoulders. “You are, and Tate insisted I come over here and invite you.”
“Oh,” I whisper, caught off guard. “Can I bring anything?”
“Just yourself.”
Angelo’s behind me and silent.
“Seven o’clock. Got it?” she reminds us like we’d actually forget.
“We’ll be there, Ma,” he tells her.
