“Hey, Luca,” I greeted softly.
“How was your day?” His voice was a sexy rasp that conjured pictures of his naked body.
“It was quiet, relaxing—perfect for a rainy day. You?”
“I wish. I was out running around in that rain like a schmuck, and it’s not over yet. I still have dinner plans with a friend before I can call it a day.”
A friend? Was that code for another woman?
I’d been so wrapped up in the mafia bombshell, I hadn’t even considered if Luca and I were exclusive. The thought of him with someone else didn’t just hurt, it made me irrationally angry—massacre his closet and key his car angry. His dinner date wasn’t necessarily a woman, but logic failed my brain where Luca was concerned.
“Oh.”
He was quiet for several beats. “There a problem?”
“No.”
“What did I say about lying to me?”
Fuck. If I told him what I was thinking, I’d look like acrazy woman, jealous when we’d only just started dating. But then again, I was trying to end the relationship days earlier. If he thought I was too possessive and left me, that would solve my problems.
“Are you seeing someone else?” I blurted.
“That’s my girl,” he purred, a smile implicit in his voice. “I want to know exactly what you’re thinking—no games. As for my dinner plans, I’m meeting an associate. He’s sixty years old, bald, and weighs close to three hundred pounds. No, I’m not seeing anyone else, and I expect the same courtesy in return. Does that work for you?”
“Yeah, that works,” I whispered breathlessly. As if hearing Luca call me his girl wasn’t enough to do me in, his speech had me melting into a puddle of female hormones.
“Good. When can I see you tomorrow?”
“Not sure. I’ve got to get some chores done, then I’ve got dinner at my parent’s house.”
“I’m free in the evening; I could come with you.”
What? No, no, and hell no. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, not yet, anyway.” Most guys avoided meeting the parents like the plague, but Luca wasn’t most guys. He threw me for a loop in every way.
“I understand. Whenever you’re ready. In the meantime, why don’t you tell me more about them.”
Everything he said shocked me—I never knew what was going to come out of that man’s mouth next. Curling up on the couch, I dove in. “Well, I have two sisters. Sofia is the baby, eighteen months younger than me, and we have a decent relationship. She’s an artist, marches to her own beat. Maria is two years older than me and has always been too cool for me or Sofia. She’s intensely private—I know where she lives, and that’s about it. Mom is a pretty traditionalStepford wife. She doesn’t actually cook or clean, but she organizes fundraisers and is always busy with friends or family. As you know, my dad runs Triton, so that’s the center of his universe. When we were little, before Marco was killed, he used to play with us. He would get on his hands and knees, and we would ride his back like a bucking bronco until we laughed so hard, we couldn’t stay on.”
“Sounds like a good dad,” commented Luca.
“He was, and he still is, just not the same as he was before.”
“So, you’re close to your sister?”
“Yeah, but I’m even closer to my cousin, Giada—you saw her that day at my place.”
“Right. How is she related?”
“She’s my dad’s brother’s daughter. We grew up together and have always been inseparable.”
“You have many aunts and uncles?”
“You drawing my family tree?” I teased.
“Maybe. There a problem with me wanting to know more about you?”
“I suppose not; it’s just unusual. Most guys don’t want anything to do with my crazy family.”
