Chapter Twenty-Five
Mia
Logan showed up right on time for us to leave, and my stomach was all twisted in knots. My family was going to eat him alive, or maybe they were going to stuff him so full of food that he would explode. Also, I just knew I would be getting a headache from having to tell everyone over and over that Logan and I weren’t a couple.
“You really don’t need to be nervous.” Logan patted my knee in a friendly, comforting way.
I tried to give him my bestI’m finesmile, but he knew better.
“Have you ever been around a true Italian family?”
“No. If I say the wrong thing, are they gonna make me swim with the fishes in the bay?” he teased.
I felt that knot wring more inside me. Oh God, he was gonna die.
“No, but I’d keep the Mafia jokes to a minimum. They take that kind of stuff very seriously. And, while Uncle Tony swears we have no ties to the Mafia in any way, everyone knows someone who knows someone who knows someone. And, when you’re Italian, no matter if you share blood or not, you’re family.”
I just ignored all those parts of my family. Everyone knew someone who knew someone that you might know.
He started to laugh, and I rolled my eyes.
“You just wait. You’ll be wanting to bang your head on the wall when my aunt Sofia starts telling you about the people she’s run into lately.” I cleared my throat and tried to do my best impression of my always nasally congested aunt. “Oh, I met this woman at the grocery store, and I’ll tell you, I was stunned to learn her sister’s husband’s second cousin went to the same church that Uncle Patricio’s mother-in-law went to when she was in second grade. What a coincidence.”
His earlier chuckle turned into a full-on belly laugh.
“Laugh now, but just remember, I signed the dotted line that said,No refunds. If my family scares you away from helping me, you can’t run away. You’re stuck for another five weeks.”
I tilted up my chin and looked out the window of the luxury sedan we were in. Changing my thoughts from Logan’s demise via my family to earlier.
He’d been slightly hesitant to get in the car with me since I wasn’t actually driving. I had a driver take me everywhere in an awesome SUV. I honestly hadn’t driven a car in years, since college. This way, I could do work in the back if I needed to. But, for the first five minutes of the drive, I considered maybe he felt uncomfortable with this. I had money—lots of it. I didn’t go crazy like other rich people I knew. I liked to consider myself down to earth, but I just always felt having a driver helped me do one less thing.
“What are you thinking?” Logan the ever-perceptive fellow had caught on. Again.
“Are you uncomfortable with my money?”
Sadly, I thought of my ex at that moment. Wallace had money, like me, although not as much as I did. Plus, he liked the life of luxury. But to some people, being rich made people uncomfortable.
That sexy dark blond eyebrow of Logan’s popped up with another expression that made me feel lame for asking. Logan didn’t care about that stuff as far as I could tell. Based on what I’d paid for his services, I was sure he made enough to live comfortably, but yet he still drove an older-model Jeep. And looked like a surfer dude instead of a rich businessman.
“Right, sorry.” I quickly righted myself.
“There is no reason to be sorry for your thoughts. They are your thoughts. And, no, I’m not uncomfortable with money—or your money. My hesitation earlier was about something different.”
Oh?I tilted my head toward him, wondering what could have made the cool and ever-relaxed life coach hesitant.
“Do you need to talk about it? We are besties and all.”
His gaze fell upon me. Heat flaring in those blue eyes made me wiggle a bit against the leather seat.Oh boy.
“I think it’s best if I don’t.”
Yeah, I thought he was right about that. There was something brewing between us that neither one of us was ready to let out of the pot. So, instead of meeting his burning gaze with a fire of my own, I turned my head back to look out the window. Letting my thoughts drift toward something else.
“After this dinner, later, I want you to read me your letter. To finish up the forgiveness process,” he said hoarsely.
My fingers flexed against my clutch and then gripped it again. We needed to get out of this car and have enough space apart that I didn’t feel his radiating body heat caressing my skin.
“Sounds good.”
We stayed quiet for the remainder of the thirty-minute drive. By the time we arrived at my parents’ driveway, there were cars lining the street.
“Wow, looks like a party is happening here,” Logan commented as we hopped out of the car.
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. “Nope. Just a normal Sunday dinner with the Moretti family.”
Logan once again chuckled at my dramatics, but he would soon see. With every step we took, I began thinking of the kind words I’d say at his funeral.
