“Consider it done.”
His quiet words made her eyes well up with tears, which was not okay. No way was she going to start to cry, damnit. It was time to change the subject. She reached, hard, for a lighter topic. “So, your cousin Luc.”
Her Luc—at least the Luc in the car with her—glanced over at her in something that wasn’t quite surprise. It was surprise-plus. There was something else in there, maybe horror? Or fear? No, couldn’t be. He was fearless.
“Please tell me he’s at least got a different last name,” she continued, “like he’s your mom’s sister’s kid.”
Luc cleared his throat. “He’s my mom’s sister’s kid, yes, but he’s still a Rosetti. He’s named—we’re named—after my grandfather on my pop’s side. Our pops’ side. Our parents are... unique, me and, um, cousin Luc. See, the Rosetti brothers married the Piccolo sisters.”
“Seriously?” Casey was intrigued. “Oh please, please tell me they were both sets of identical twins.”
He laughed. “No, we’re not that big of an entry in Ripley’s Believe It or Not. They mixed it up a little. Pop was the oldest. He met my mom first—she’s the younger sister,” Luc told her, “and they got engaged almost instantly. And I’m talking instantly. Real love at first sight stuff, like my pop proposed on their second date. Mom took a little longer to say yes, but it was definitely days not weeks. She likes to pretend she was more level-headed, but it was ridiculously fast, her yes.”
“And they’re still together?” she asked.
“Oh, absolutely,” Rio said. “Thirty-seven years and going strong.”
“That’s amazing,” she said. “That they both just... knew.”
“It was kinda the same for my Uncle Tony and Aunt Angela—Luc’s parents. Antony—Pop’s younger brother, got into a pretty bad car accident. When they got the call that he was in the ER, Pop’s car was in the shop. So Mom’s older sister, Angela, drove them to the hospital. Uncle Tony broke his femur—you know, weeks of traction—and, well, Aunt Angie just kinda never went home. They had a double wedding—same guest list, so why not? They were all best friends—still are.”
“Who’s older?” she asked. “You or your cousin?”
“I am.”
“Are you still close?”
“Yup,” he said. “He’s in London right now. Kinda hating his new job. It’s something having to do with... finances...? Maybe? At some kind of production company—I really don’t know what he does with his MBA, but then again, he has absolutely no clue what I do, so it all balances out in the end.”
“Is he...” Casey started, but then stopped. But then figured what the hell. “Is he, by any chance, straight?”
He shot her a look. “Are you... fishing...? Is your next question: Is he single?”
“What? No,” she said, going into automatic denial, but why? This was Luc she was talking to, and she already trusted him implicitly. “Well, actually, yes. Yup. Is he single? I mean, why not? You’re wonderful, and your family sounds amazing. And yay, a man with a graduate degree! I’m half in love with him already. And I get to London a fair amount so...”
“He looks a lot like me,” Luc told her. “Like freaky, uncanny. So that won’t work for you.”
“Wait, what...?” She was confused.
“I’m not your type?”
She looked at him. “I was just being funny and obviously failing! I mean, look at you with your never-had-a-bad-hair-day hair and your killer smile and extremely fit... fitness. And that’s just the visual. You’re smart, you’re funny, you’re kind, you’re considerate. I’m pretty sure you’re automatically the entire world’s type. Male, female, enby, everyone. And you’ve all but admitted that dogs love you, too, so...”
He was laughing, and clearly a little embarrassed.
“But you’re gay so that’s a no-go for me,” Casey continued. “Also the Navy SEAL, the military, component? That’s also a hard pass, thanks. I’ve got enough anxiety as it is, without having to cope with the whole Is he dead today thing. But cousin Luc, living in London with his glorious MBA...? Ding! Assuming he’s straight.”
Luc took a deep breath and cleared his throat. “Well, one cousin is gay and one cousin is straight—and single.”
That was... an interestingly odd way of answering her questions, and he was also back, weirdly enough, to being uncomfortable. Of course maybe she was wrong about that tic and he was simply battling allergies.
“You... have a trip to London planned?” he asked.
“Nothing soon,” she said. “But one of the movie scripts I’m interested in is being filmed there, probably not ’til next summer, though.”
Luc nodded—and seemed oddly relieved.
She was just about to narrow her eyes at him and ask why exactly he didn’t want her to meet his cousin, when he rather pointedly changed the subject.
