“Eden?” he asks, giving me a confused look. “Everything all right?”
“How are you so good at this?” I ask, not even trying to mask the sound of my confusion.
“Kids?” he asks, sounding equally surprised. “I’m one of four kids, and in the last two years, I’ve become an uncle to four kids.”
I nod. “Yeah, I remember, but a lot of people have siblings and kids in their family. You’re, like, really good at this.”
“It’s in the genes,” he says, his voice low. “I come by it naturally. I love kids. Love people, honestly. I’m easygoing. You have to be when you’re a Bianchi.” He grows quiet for a moment, as if he’s thinking. “Have you been around a lot of people who are not good at this?”
I swallow hard and murmur, “Yeah. You could say that.”
Vito taps Junie on the nose and grins big at both of us. “Well, ladies, you’re in for a treat today.”
5
VITO
Eden pullsout some toys to keep Juniper entertained while we sit knee-to-knee at her kitchen table poring over the listings on her phone.
“So, the agent sent me six,” she says. She’s leaning toward me, holding her phone in one hand, but it takes all my concentration to look at the pictures and not at the generous amount of cleavage I can see when she leans closer to me.
Eden Byrne is gorgeous. Her hair is long, and the loose curls practically float over her shoulders. Her eyes are a perfect shade of coffee brown.
Every time she leans closer, I catch a whiff of something light but so elegant. She smells expensive, like the luxury spas Michelle used to treat herself to. What I can’t figure out is this girl’s story.
“I really like these,” she says, flipping the display to reveal a couple of houses that would be way out of my price range. “But then, Taylor sent over this one too. It looks older, but it’s the cheapest on the list, so I thought it would be worth seeing.”
“Oh fuck,” I say before I can stop myself. I look toward Juniper, but she seems engrossed in her magnets. “Sorry about that.”
“What is it?” she asks. “Something about this house? Was there a fire or something?”
I shake my head and take the phone from her hands, letting my fingertips just graze hers. Heat flows from her hand through my body, and I’m suddenly feeling about ten degrees hotter.
“No fire,” I explain. I zoom into the listing to confirm the address. “I know this house.” A little sadness jerks at my chest just looking at the place. “I haven’t been there in a while,” I say. I hand the phone to her. “My ex-wife’s grandfather lives there. I hear he’s been moved into a memory care facility across town. They must be selling the house.”
I’m quiet for a moment because the thought of Michelle’s gramps not being able to live in his house anymore is damn sad. I hope the day never comes when we have to make that decision for our parents. But then I remind myself that Michelle’s parents should be the ones dealing with this, not her, but that’s a fight I gave up on long ago.
I meet Eden’s eyes. “It’s a great house,” I tell her. “Solid construction. The old man took good care of the place. Real good. But unless the family’s done something in the last five years, and I’m guessing by that purchase price they haven’t, the interior needs a gut rehab. If you’re in the market for a fixer-upper, that’d be a safe investment. But if you want move-in ready…”
Eden is quiet, but then she shocks the shit out of me by resting a hand over mine. Her touch is light and soft. “You’re divorced?” she asks. “I had no idea. I’m so sorry.”
I can’t tell from her tone if she thinks I’m still nursing a broken heart or if she’s digging a little for dirt. I hope it’s that second one.
“Yeah,” I say. “My marriage was like your bathroom fire. Hot, wild, and over almost before it really got going.”
Eden yanks her hand away and covers her mouth with a hand as she blurts out a laugh. “Vito.” She shakes her head. “You’re so unexpected.”
I grin at her. “Well, it’s true. I’ll tell the story. I ain’t shy about it.” I cross my arms over my chest and kick my legs out in front of me. “I was a twenty-six-year-old hothead,” I start out, setting the scene for her. “I’m fighting fires by day, and at night, well, let’s just say I’m spending a lot of my nights off at The Body Shop. You know the place?”
She shakes her head. “What is it? A fragrance store? Candles and soaps and stuff?”
I crack a laugh. “Nah. We’ve got two Body Shops in Star Falls. The one where my sister works is a tattoo shop. Gracie, you met her, is an artist and the owner. My ex danced at the other place, under a stage name Exotic.”
I watch as the emotions flicker across Eden’s face. Confusion, recognition, and then understanding.
“You married a dancer?” she asks.
I watch the flush creep up her neck. “It’s totally fine to say I married a stripper. I knew what she did for work, and I didn’t give a damn how she made her living. She didn’t do anything more than dance, even though I know she got offers, but she had big dreams. She wasn’t about to have a criminal record hold her back.” I think back on the good times I had with my ex-wife, and I have to admit that.
