Georgia laughed, and so did I.
We moved further into the Italian mansion, and I could tell Big had a direction and destination. That destination had a crowd surrounding him as he made all his admirers laugh at something he said.Himbeing Rocco Fausti. It was the first time I’d ever seen him in the flesh. His pictures did him no justice at all in person. Tall, broad shouldered, and built. Eyes of a shimmering green that were paired with silky black hair cut into a gentleman’s style, olive skin, and bright white teeth made for an after-braces commercial.
Big fit with this family because he, too, had pictures that did him no justice at all in person. Even his vibe meshed with…all of this. I didn’t know whether to be severely impressed or overwhelmed.
We made our way closer to Rocco, and when his eyes fell on Big, his smile grew wider. He stepped forward, and the crowd around him seemed to disperse as he and Big embraced.
Georgia occupied the space where Big had been and leaned in. “If they do the cheek kisses…I might faint.”
I nudged her with my elbow and she laughed. If Rocco Fausti would have been some kind of hunting animal (which, like Big, he no doubt was), his ears would have perked up at the noise, and he would have scented the air after. As it was, his nostrils were flared a bit, and I didn’t question that he was sniffing us out.
“Rocco,” Big said, taking my hand and setting me next to him. “My wife, Leonora Bigatti. Leonora, Rocco Fausti.”
I felt it when Georgia sighed. It was her swoon. Big had a way of introducing me like I was the most precious thing to him, and he couldn’t wait to say those words,my wife. Georgia gave him hell because she was my best friend and, well, she was Georgia, and she liked to keep the men in our lives on their toes. But deep down, she loved Big.
Not as much as I did, though, and when he introduced me with such pride, it almost made my knees go weak from the rush of blood to my heart.
Rocco took my hand and lifted it to his mouth. His eyes rose to meet mine, and he spoke in Italian as his warm breath fanned over my skin. Then he translated. “Charmed to meet you, Mrs. Bigatti.” Rocco’s eyes turned to Big, and Rocco grinned at him.
Big grinned back, but his hand on my hip was burning a brand through the fabric and onto my skin. Big set his free hand on Georgia’s back, about to guide her forward, but Rocco stepped up and took her hand as Big introduced them.
“Rocco, Georgia Munro Fedele. Georgia, Rocco Fausti.”
Rocco took her in while he held her hand—no rush. From her eyes to her glimmering red waves, to her black, formfitting, glittering dress, to her heels, and back up to her eyes. His held hers while he kissed her hand just like he’d done mine. He told her he was charmed, and after she cleared her throat, she said, “Not as charmed as I am to meet you, sir.”
I always had to give it to Georgia. She could always hold her own, even when the guy was drop-dead gorgeous and his sex appeal needed a warning label. I always thought that was one of the most attractive things about Georgia. She excluded confidence when she was turned on. It was the times she hid in the darkness, the ones I’d been witness to, that gave her a complexity most people would never know.
The charm must have been mutual to a degree they both felt moved by it, because after a short conversation, they ended up on the dance floor in thegreat hall. I had no idea of the Italian translation, but that was exactly what it was. Candle sconces and dripping wax, marble floors and frescoes, all that.
“That was…fast,” I breathed out, and then laughed some, meeting Big’s eyes.
His demeanor had changed some. I could feel it. He always had a relaxed confidence about him—nothing seemed to shake him—but I could tell something had rattled him some. “He likes you.”
“Who?” I asked.
“Rocco.”
“That’s…good?”
“Depends.”
“You’re losing me here, Big.” I narrowed my eyes at him.
“If it wasn’t for his respect for me, and what exists between us, he’d have made a move on you.”
I exploded with laughter. I thought he was messing around with me. Big didn’t flinch or even crack a smile.
“You’re joking, right? He said, what? Four words to me? That’s it. Then he turned his attention to Georgia.”
“I can tell.” He sighed, stepping closer to me, wrapping his arms around me. “I expected it—Rocco has fine taste—but I wasn’t prepared for it. I don’t like it. I know his thoughts.”
So, this was Big being jealous. It shouldn’t have warmed me like it did, but it did. I stood a little on my toes and kissed him on the lips, using my fingers to wipe any lipstick off. “I love you big,” I whispered.
He sighed and his minty breath fanned over my face. “You’re my existence.” His eyes were hard on mine. The color was spellbinding, like watching the Ligurian Sea at the hottest time of the day, when the color of the water is truly brilliant.
I entwined our fingers and set my head against his chest, breathing him in while slow Italian music floated through the massive villa. He kissed the top of my head, and we stood that way for a while, just letting the world exist around us, but holding tight to each other.
This had become my safe space in life—his arms.
