He nodded and gracefully got to his feet. I was relieved to see he was moving at a reasonable speed as he walked out and not rushing around.
Since we had a lot to do today, I tried to force my brain to work. I stripped out of my pajamas, then grabbed nice black pants and a dress shirt out of my closet. With guilt poking at my conscience, I added my white collar. Occasionally looking like a priest made people more helpful, and this was one of those times when I wasn’t above taking advantage of it. After I hit the bathroom, I came into the living room and found Phoenix bent over wiping down the wooden coffee table, and it was hard to resist staring at his ass—nice and round. The jeans he wore fit him perfectly, and I silently thanked whoever had donated them.
“Are you ready to go?” I asked with a smile.
He straightened and bounced over to me, eyes shining and hair pulled up into a ponytail at the back of his head. The look agreed with him. “Yes, Daddy. I just need to get something from the bedroom, I’ll be back.”
He rushed off toward my room, and I sighed.
A knock had me frowning, and as I opened the front door, I froze—Mamma smiled at me. She’d never visited my house, and always demanded I come to hers because she hated what I’d “resorted to,” as she’d said more than once with a huff. She’d been fast to tell me I didn’t have to live in squalor to be a priest, and she still brought the topic up at least once a month.
Her face lit up the moment she saw me, and she shoved a handful of paper bags in my direction. I grabbed the groceries, shocked as she pushed her way into the house. She looked the same as ever, her black hair pulled tightly into a bun with the gray roots showing at her forehead, and the black dress she wore wasn’t unusual because she’d been wearing black since my father’s funeral ten years ago. Her mourning for her husband went deeper than any of us could imagine.
“Mamma, what are you doing here?” I asked.
She spun toward me, brown eyes excited. “Where is he?”
“Who?” I swallowed, hoping she didn’t say Phoenix. How could she know already? I knew how—the family. Italians were the worst when it came to being in other people’s business.
“Your boyfriend.” She slapped her hands on her hips. “Ric called me and told me Toma saw you with him. I thought you were going to be singleforever. Is he Italian? I don’t mind if he’s not because we can teach him how to be Italian.”
“Mamma, stop.” I walked past her and toward the kitchen, then set the bags on the counter before I looked at her again. “I’m a priest and I made a vow to God to be celibate, you know that. He’s not my boyfriend, he’s someone I’m helping.”
“I don’t believe a word you say.” She shook her finger at me with pursed lips. Her makeup was light today, with a soft pink lipstick that made her appear younger. “You know I am proud of you becoming a priest, Gian, but you can’t spend your entire life alone.”
“I have God.”
She laughed. “God won’t keep your bed warm at night and give me grandbabies. You need to find yourself a handsome man, and a surrogate, and give me some children to spoil. I’ve waited too long, and I do not have one grandchild. Not one! Where have I gone wrong with you all?” She sighed and fell onto the couch, throwing her hands up dramatically.
Phoenix chose that moment to come back out of the bedroom, and he froze when he saw Mamma, but she had caught sight of her prey. She hopped up, then loped around the couch toward him with a wicked grin on her face.
“Oh my, you are the cutest thing I have ever seen.” She grabbed him by the elbow and yanked him into a hug and there was nothing I could do about it. Once she had her claws into someone, there was no way they were going to escape.
Maybe this was what Phoenix needed, too.
“So squishy, such a good cuddler. He needs some more meat on his bones, though.” She pulled away to stare down at him, and he returned her gaze, mouth parted in surprise. She tapped his chin, and his lips snapped together. “Don’t give me that look, baby. I’m Etta, Gian’s mother. What’s your name?”
“Um. Phoenix, ma’am.” He hesitated with a smile, and she pinched his cheeks.
I chuckled. “You’ll have to excuse my mother, she’s what I call a typical Italian mom. If you’re under a certain weight, she’ll tell you that you need more meat on your bones. Be careful, she’s about to feed you until you burst.”
She threw a glare over her shoulder before returning her attention to him, squeezing his arms. “Tell me, Phoenix, do you cook?”
He winced. “I try to, ma’am, but my... ex said I’m not good at it.”
She huffed and I knew she was about to rant. If there was anything Mamma hated, it was cruelty to family or partners. I rushed toward them and kissed Mamma on the cheek.
“As much as I love having you here, Mamma, we have a lot to do today. I’m helping Phoenix get back on his feet.”
She shushed me with a finger to my lips and glared harder. “I will teach Phoenix how to cook the Italian way.”
“With lots of olive oil?” I teased, but she slapped my arm.
She grabbed Phoenix’s face between her hands. “Baby, we’ll take care of you. As Gian’s boyfriend you’re part of our family now—”
“Mamma, I told you he’s not—”
“You go do what you need to, and when you get back there’ll be some nice home-cooked meals for you. Have you ever had gnocchi? Ribollita?”
