To her surprise, Nico smiled and pulled her closer. “Of course you’ll marry me. It makes the most sense for the family, especially because you are so familiar with the business.Cara, you know your father doesn’t wish for you to take over his company without a man by your side. He named it Barone & Sons after all, did he not?”
Thank you for rubbing that one fact into my face, cuz. The one burn she’d never soothe. After immigrating to America, her father had built a successful cabinet-making business. Luciano Barone had achieved the immigrant fairytale using nothing but hard work and long hours. For her entire childhood, he’d been at the shop seven days a week, only latelyallowed himself Sundays off as he eased towardsemiretirement.
In retrospect, she, her younger sister, and their mother lacked nothing. She and Vanessa had enjoyed a childhood filled with activities like swim and dance lessons and movies with friends. In Lucy’s case there were frequent trips to bookshops, and in her sister’s, endless visits to the mall—all while her father was at his cabinet-making shop. And she didn’t have a single memory of him complaining. She didn’t even remember him taking a sick day. She admired him more than anyone. He’d been her hero her entire life.
And she’d been nothing but a disappointment to him from the moment she’d entered the world. Because no matter how hard she worked, studied, and shadowed him at the office and workshop, picking up the trade as she went, she’d never be what he truly wanted. A son.
Nico was the closest thing her father had to a son. His favorite cousin’s son, eager and willing to immigrate to America and take over her father’s company. Barone & Sons…run by her second cousin. Despite her being right here, ready and dying to do the same thing.
A familiar temper slid through her, filling her with anger and frustration, and Lucy twisted in Nico’s arms, needing the space to cool her rapidly heating mood.
Annoyingly, he just tugged her closer. “Luciana, listen to me. Being married will be as good as having the company yourself. You will have title and none of the work. You can enjoy the exact life you have now. But as my wife.”
Ya, no. Lucy pushed back with as much effort as she could without causing a scene. He allowed some space between them but didn’t let her go.
“Nico, listen to me. I will never stop working at Barone & Sons. I love my job overseeing the finances and coordinatingthe bigger projects. You do know I got us the last three big contracts, right? I’ll get more too.” A lot more, she was just getting started putting their name on the map. “But more importantly, you and I will never be married. We can’t be married.”
“Nonsense. Second cousins can be married in America. I checked. An estimated 0.2 percent of marriages in America are between second cousins.” He sounded like he’d memorized the first statistic that had popped up on Google. “It’s not as uncommon as you think.”
Right. Because that was the statistic she wanted to be part of. “That’s not what I mean,” she clarified, and a different pain lanced her chest, tearing an old wound. Memories flashed, but she shook her head clear of them.Don’t go there. There’s enough shit happening right now.
“Bella, you don’t need to worry about what people will think. No one will even have to know about our family connection.”
“Nico, please.” This was ridiculous. His audacity had become intolerable. She struggled away once more.
“May I cut in?”
Lucy froze.The voice had to be a hallucination. She was in Portland at her cousin Mariana’s wedding. Far, far away from San Francisco and the ghosts that haunted her there. This must be because she’d almost thought about him. Her over-active imagination had conjured his disembodied voice. Nothing more.
“Excuse me?” Nico said to the phantom voice.
If he heard it too, then there was no denying reality. A chill swept through her, followed immediately by a hot sweat. Her body recognized him before her eyes saw him, his energy consuming the surrounding space, his scent—an addictive blend of bergamot, fresh wood, and him—filled her, soothing her raw throat, and warming her lungs.
Nonononono. What was he doing here?
“We aren’t finished dancing,” Nico said in a clipped tone.
“Yes. You are.” Joel Morgan’s rich baritone wrapped around her like her favorite memory…and her worst one, before he moved into her peripheral vision.
And then there he was. Every gorgeous, masculine inch of him, dressed in a black tuxedo befitting the occasion. His gray eyes sharp and piercing, though they had not yet moved to her. They were fixed, cold and hard, on Nico.
Four years had passed since Joel had been this close to her. She’d gone to great lengths to make sure of that.
What was he doing here now? In a different city? At her cousin’s wedding?
Nico tensed, his position threatened, and his grip tightened around her waist. Lucy twisted out of his hold, but he yanked her back, his fingers digging into her hips as he secured her against him. She pressed her palms against his chest, intending to shove him away, when she caught a muscle jump in Joel’s jaw.
Uh oh.
Some men yelled when they became furious, some punched walls or slammed doors, others got sullen or grumpy. But when Joel Morgan got angry, his jaw ticked.
And he hadn’t even looked at her yet.
“You are interrupting our dance,” Nico bit out, his Italian accent clipped and sharp.
“Let. Her. Go.”
Nico scoffed. “Why would I do such a thing?” His gaze flicked to her. “Cara mia, let me take you away from this mad man.” He shifted to leave.
