Bianca grins when she notices. “See? Told you.”
“I’m going to need you to stop feeding me like this,” I say around the bite, because it’s either that or admit I might actually cry over pastry.
“Impossible,” Bianca replies easily. “It’s how I show affection.”
“I’m showing you affection bynotcooking for you. I’m completely hopeless,” Elena says.
I snort. “Join the club.”
Elena’s eyes light up. “You too? Finally. Everyone in this family is amazing in the kitchen, and I burn garlic every time I touch it. Every single time.”
I smile. “Antonio’s been teaching me some stuff, and it comes out all right, but only because he tells me exactly what to do and exactly when to do it.”
Elena laughs. “Same here. Luca tried teaching me a few things. Once, the whole kitchen filled with thick, black smoke, and we had to air it out for hours. After that, he hasn’t been so eager about getting me back in there.” She reaches a hand out and places it over Bianca’s. “We’re so lucky to have Bianca.”
Bianca’s eyes soften. “I’m happy to do it.”
They both look at me with that soft affection in their eyes. Like it’s a done deal. I’m already one of them.
Something in my chest tightens so fast it surprises me.
Because it’s kind. And it’s simple. And I haven’t had much of either lately.
I swallow and blink hard. “God, I’ve been so emotional lately,” I say, forcing a laugh that comes out thin. “Sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
“You’ve been through something that warrants it, and you came out the other side,” Bianca says. “We both know how that is.”
“You…” I look from one to the other. “Both know?”
Elena nods. “Yeah, we’ve had our share of dealings with rivals. It gets better, I promise. Conti men don’t take the matter of safety lightly, which is why we’re all on lockdown. I practically had to beg Luca to bring me along. I promised him several sexual favors. Not that I mind.” She smiles slyly.
Bianca laughs. “Keep it in your pants over there,” she says. Then she leans over and lightly squeezes my forearm. “You don’t have to apologize for having feelings,” she says. “Especially after what happened.”
My throat closes.
I nod too quickly, because if I speak, it’s going to crack.
“I’m going to refill these,” I say, indicating to my empty glass like I’m suddenly very busy and very normal. “Lemonade, anyone?”
“Please,” Bianca says.
Elena lifts her glass. “Thank you.”
I stand, and the room tilts.
Not a little.
A full, sick swoop like the floor drops out from under me for half a second.
My hand tightens on the back of the couch. I freeze, perfectly still. My stomach rolls, my vision fuzzes at the edges, and I breathe through my nose.
When the dizziness finally eases enough. I let out a breathy laugh. “Head rush. Sorry about that.”
Behind me, the women don’t respond. I continue walking to the kitchen.
I make it to the kitchen and reach into the fridge for the pitcher of lemonade. My hands aren’t quite as steady as I’d like.
Behind me, I hear soft footsteps.
