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“I know.” I drag my hands though my hair. “But, just to warn you, your grandma is probably going to hate me. I’m not much of a cook.”

He gives me a slow, sexy smile.

“What?” I ask, confused by his amusement.

“I beg to differ. You cook very well… just not necessarily food.”

“What have I cooked that isn’t food?”

“My balls. My brain.” He leans in to kiss me again, and his tongue sweeps through my open lips. “My heart.”

I smirk. “Stop being cute.”

“I can’t help it.” His hands rise to fasten the top button of my shirt.

I roll my eyes. Control freak.

He gets out of the car, opens my door, and takes my hand before he leads me up the stairs. The house is a huge mansion made of marble and sandstone. Guards dressed in black suits are scattered everywhere.

It screams Mafiosi.

Hell. I lied before. I’m not a little nervous. I’m fucking terrified.

We walk in through the front door, and Andrea and Matteo are the first people we see.

Andrea’s eyes light up. “Olivia,” he coos as he kisses me on the cheek.

“Hi.”

“You remember Matteo?” Enrico asks.

“Hello.” He smiles as he kisses me, also.

“Hi.”

Their eyes are fixed on me, and then they glance at each other.

What are they thinking?

Francesca walks around the corner. “Olivia.” She smiles and kisses my cheek.

“Hi.”

“Come and meet Nonna,” Enrico says.

I swallow the lump in my throat. “Great.” I fake a smile as he leads me through to the back of the house.

Bianca is sitting at the counter with a glass of wine in her hand. She smiles warmly when she sees me. “Ciao, Olivia.”

“Hello.” I smile in return. Good God, this woman freaks me out.

There is a little old lady in the kitchen cooking, and the food smells amazing. The lady turns to look at me.

Enrico presents me to her. “Nonna, this is Olivia.”

She stares at me for what feels like eternity before she finally says, “Ciao, Olivia.”

I shake her hand, and she eyes me suspiciously again. My nervous gaze travels to Enrico.