Stefan's smexy smirk was back.“Would you like me to make a spreadsheet for you?”
I bit my lip.
And thought about it.
Then I nodded.“Yeah.That would be helpful.Thanks.”
His eyebrows raised, and he nodded.“Fair enough.That's not a bad idea now that I think about it,” he said in a serious tone.I rose up on my tiptoes and met him for a kiss.
A really, really, really great kiss.
At least it was until we were interrupted.
“Stefan!”an old woman's voice exclaimed loudly.
Stefan quickly ended our kiss and looked up.“Shit,” he whispered under his breath.Then he cleared his throat.“Ciao, Mama.”He grabbed my hand and held onto it tightly as he walked us over to the stunningly beautiful older woman.Her hair was gray, and she was about my height.
She gazed at me with sharp eyes like she was assessing everything about me.
“Mama.”He hugged her, but still held onto my hand.“This is my wife, Francesca.”He let go of her and looked at me.
“I heard,” the woman—Stefan's mother—said.She smiled at me and then looked back at her son.“I guess my invitation got lost in the mail?”
Stefan let out a sigh.“It couldn't be helped.”Stefan's voice was low and respectful.
“Your brother told me.He—still calls.Unlike you.”She pointed her finger at his chest.
“You know I call you, too.”
She waved him off and stepped over to me.“Francesca.You are beautiful.Welcome to the family.”Her arms wrapped around my body, and she hugged the crap out of me.
“And what do you like to do for fun?Other than secretly marry my son?”She let me go and gave me a smile.
“She's quite an artist,” Stefan answered his mother.“And she loves watching reality shows.”
She frowned at him and said, “And can Francesca answer questions for herself?Or must you always do it for her?”
A giggle erupted and flew out of my mouth before I had a chance to stop it.
His mother looked at me.Then she looked back at Stefan and said, “I like her.A lot.”
“Now,” she grabbed onto my arm, “let's go inside.Let my son deal with the animals.”She waved her hand distastefully at the horses.“I need to begin teaching you how to cook the meals my son enjoys.”
Something told me there was no sense in arguing with Stefan's mother.It was pretty obvious where he'd gotten his bossiness from.
Instead, I laughed and gazed over my shoulder at Stefan—and the handsome smile on his face.
3
Francesca
By the time I'd showered, dried my hair, and put on minimal makeup, Stefan walked into the bedroom.Just as I was stepping into the closet.
“I'm sorry.I didn't know she was coming.Or I would have tried to talk her out of it,” he started explaining while he followed me into the closet.
I giggled and kept walking.“That's why she said she didn't call first.”Stefan's mother was a straight shooter.Some people might find that annoying and abrasive.But I liked people like her.You always knew where you stood.No fake, phony crap.
She'd insisted we sit down on the patio for a while and chat.Luckily, she didn't ask any of the hard, icky questions.Like, why her son and I got married in the middle of the night and secreted off to Italy.
