Oh, boy.
Jazz rushed outside, sat on Russell’s lap, and hugged him. “You made it!”
“I hope it’s okay that I crashed your family event,” Russell said. “Jazz said you haven’t done a family cruise since Mara died.”
All the joy in that moment got sucked into a black hole.
No one spoke, the impact of Russell’s words sending everyone spiraling into thoughts of pain and loss and despair.
“Sorry,” Russell said. “I should go.”
Jazz jumped off him. “They’ll be okay. Come inside and we’ll have a drink.” Jazz and Russell hurried inside.
A low, raspy growl shot out of Carrera while fury jumped to the surface. “I could put my fist?—”
“Let it go,” G-ma said.
Carrera regarded his grandmother while the fury swirled in a vortex all around him, threatening to take control of his judgment.
She patted his hand. “I feel the same way, but now isn’t the time.”
She was right. He had to shake it off, so he clasped her hand and kissed her soft, wrinkled skin. “Love you, G-ma.”
Her rueful smile tore through him. “I love you too.”
His dad returned to the stern.
“I didn’t know you invited Russell,” his dad said. “It’s always good to see one of your childhood friends.”
“Jazz invited him,” Carrera said.
“Paolo, I’ll sit with you in the helm,” G-ma said.
Though his dad went by Paul, G-ma never stopped calling her son Paolo.
After G-ma vanished inside with his dad, boisterous laughter snagged his attention. Luciano, Teddy, and Gabriel made their way down the pier. Three cousins who were more like brothers than his real one.
His anger stood down as his cousins climbed aboard.
After hearty hugs, Carrera excused himself, found his dad at the helm, G-ma by his side. “We’re ready, Captain.”
Pride shone in his dad’s eyes. Once he instructed the crew to cast off, Carrera joined his cousins at the bar.
“Excuse me, Mr. Santini,” said the bartender.
All four men looked over.
The bartender laughed. “That was easy.” He rattled off the beverage options.
Champagne all around, so the bartender got busy filling flutes.
“Gabriel, when did you get back?” Carrera asked.
Gabriel Santini was sandwiched between Teddy and Luciano. His dark hair rested in layers on the collar of his white shirt, his light brown eyes as intense as Carrera remembered. Normally clean-shaven, he’d grown a mustache and goatee, with a light dusting of whiskers covering his cheeks.
Luciano and Gabriel were both dark haired with olive skin. Teddy had blond hair, always looked tanned, and had a meatier build.
“I’m not back,” Gabriel replied. “Luciano told me it was cruise time, so I flew in last night.” He slung his arm around his older brother’s shoulder. “And I stayed in the mansion with Dracula himself.”
