“I don’t think I’ll have cereal today, Lils. But that was really thoughtful of you, thanks for asking.”
She huffs, clearly gutted, and my chest twinges. Preston leans back on the sink after dodging that bullet.
“Cheese sandwich, Miss Thorne?” he offers.
Lily eyes us both and fires me another question before I can answer his. “Didn’t you ask Dad not to call you Miss?”
“I did! You have such a good memory, Lils.” I ruffle her hair just to be a tad annoying. She yelps and nudges the hair clip back into place, muttering under her breath. “But you know what? Life’s already full of battles. And I’ve learned that no matter how politely I ask your father, he’ll still deny me some of the things I really, really want.”
* * *
I meet Mrs. Romano before we leave for drop-off. A lovely, yet no-nonsense Italian lady. She spits on the floor when she passes by a picture of Blake. I gasp so hard it sends me into a coughing fit. Fine, I also fight the urge to howl with laughter. The woman is mad.Mad. But fiercely protective of these two, so I love her already.
She’s grumbling about being overpaid, and Preston’s playing dumb to avoid the discussion. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. I pay you what’s fair, Grazi.”
Mrs. Romano waves him off, muttering something in Italian, curse words would be my guess, and Lily wraps her arms around her waist.
Preston explains the plan. “We’ll be out all day, probably back after six. That okay?”
“Yes, yes, of course. I already said so,” she huffs, arms flapping, shooing us to the door. “Vai,vai, go, go. I make sure they do the work, don’t you worry.”
I, for one, am not worried about her. What I am is deeply concerned for the well-being of the builders. Poor souls are about to get bossed into another dimension.
“Nana Grazi,” Lily says shyly, “would you make me your lasagna?”
“Ma certo, piccola! I’d never let you starve.”
Lily jumps in place, and I melt a little. They’re blessed to have this iron-fisted marshmallow of a woman in their corner.
“Grazie, Grazi.” Lily giggles at her own pun.
Mrs. Grazielle Romano rolls her eyes, but she’s smiling too.
At the door, Preston pauses. “Mia will be running some errands for me. I’ve got back-to-back calls today, so I might be hard to get a hold of. If it’s urgent, text me 911, okay?”
You’ll be hard, all right.
Oh, shut up, brain.
Grazi waves us off. “Stop worrying, Doctor Preston.” I smile at how she rolls the R in doctor. “I will handle these men just fine.”
Her delicious accent, the rough edge in her voice, her permanent scowl—I believe her. Everyone should.
Now if only I could sound as confident saying I can handlethisman.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
mia
We singthe whole way to school. If someone would’ve told me Preston Jett willingly joined a carpool sing-along, I’d laugh. Except I am right there, off-key and grinning like an idiot as I watch him mumble through the chorus, committed to the bit, but hopelessly lost.
Lily kisses us both before she leaves the car, and that settles it; my heart now belongs to a little girl in shiny sneakers. A bubbly Lils twirls her way to the school gate, humming the last song we sang together.
“How did you survive six years of this?” I circle a hand in the air, motioning to where she dances away. “Sometimes I swear I’m gonna burst from all that cuteness and joy pouring out of her.”
“She’s perfect,” he says, without looking away from her. “Though I might be biased.” A beat passes. “I just count my blessings and try to make up for where I failed her.”
We’re still watching her, but those words shift the air. My eyes land back on him. “I don’t think she sees it that way, Pres. Or more importantly,feelsthat way.”
