Stan’s kiss, tender, affectionate, passionate with the depth of feeling he had for me, sealed the silent promise.
One I knew, deep in my bones, in my very soul, he’d die to keep.
ELEVEN
STAN
Matriwas awake when we arrived.
Hell, the whole house was—lights blazing in each room, illuminating the property in its grandeur.
“She’s pulling out all the stops.”
“You really live here?” Kitty tsked. “Not sure why I’m surprised. This is tiny in comparison to the other place.”
“This one’s nicer, but it’s whereMatrilives.”
“And you don’t want to live with your mother?”
Her gentle taunt took me aback. I’d expected her to be catatonic, shaking in my embrace, trembling whenever I dared to touch her, not poking fun at me.
Was it the nurse in her? The daughter of a mobster?
Or was she everything I’d ever dreamed of in a woman come to life?
A warrior who I didn’t want to engage in battle but who could handle anything my world threw at her? ‘Anything’ I’d kill to keep her safe from?
By the time Giovi had pulled up outside the house, I’d managed to shift her off my lap.
I held out my hand for her once I stood in the driveway and she took it.
Only when she was beside me did I ask, “Can I carry you?”
Her expression turned mutinous, but I noticed the slight hunch of her shoulders as she struggled to manage her pain. “I can walk.”
“Why would you when I can carry you?”
She didn’t have a chance to answer before the crunching of the gravel heralded the arrival of my mother. Who, of course, decided to embarrass the living shit out of me: “Oh, Stan. I knew you had it in you to be a romantic!”
Like her namesake, Kitty’s eyes gleamed. “Nice to meet you, ma’am. I just wish I looked less like hell warmed over.”
The comment definitely tookMatriaback. But not me. Kitty was living up to her new nickname—liunissa.
Matri’sshoulders straightened as she glanced at me then Kitty as I cautiously swept her into my arms. “My dear, it is anhonorto meet a woman who can endure what you did tonight and is still...this.” She gently took ahold of her hands. “Now, if you feel like breaking down and having a good old sob, we have some hot chocolate in the kitchen and I make mean s’mores. They’re a fabulous thing, you know. We don’t have them in England, but I told my daughter that they need to be transported over there immediately. It isn’t the same as digestive biscuits—” When I groaned, she babbled, “Oh, dear. Where are my manners? I’m Lauren. You can call me Lauren orMatri,and of course you don’t want to know about snacks…”
My eyes widened as she continued rattling on.
Jen, who’d given her grandchildren, and Hunter, who’d practically lived at our house as a kid, had never been given the honor of calling herMatri.
“Oh, Lauren, um, that’s so kind of you, but I think my ma would be jealous. She’s from Ireland actually. You might find an ally in your ‘make s’mores international’ campaign.”
“Oh, I can’t wait to meet her then! Irish, you say?” She shot me a pointed look. “None of my children told me that.”
“Can we stop talking on the front stoop, already?”
“Like you can’t carry a thing this slight for hours on end,”Matrireprimanded. “But you’re right. We have the nosiest neighbors. Honestly, I’m the one who should be spying on them with the amount of surveillance equipment they have on-site. I’m telling you, son, it’s suspicious. Now, come, come. In you go!”
Rolling my eyes at Kitty as she shooed us, I trundled into the house.
