Chapter 35 Eleanor
Eleanor
The rumble of the Cadillac matches the rhythm of the city around us.
Wind skims my skin through the open window as we drive, the air smelling of hot dogs and exhaust and the sea.
It's a sticky September afternoon, and Leonardo is tense beside me, knuckles white as they grip the wheel.
His phone keeps buzzing. He ignores it with curses under his breath.
When we pull up at a light, I turn for the tenth time to look at the large box on the back seat. “What is it?” I ask. It is white with a large red bow, and looks suspiciously like a gift.
“Jesus, woman,” he laughs, “Fine, it’s a present. But you can’t open it yet.”
I run my hand down his bicep, slowly. “What if I really, really want to?”
He winks at me, a slow, wicked smile, and peels away when the light changes. “Not until I say so.”
The box rattles as we turn a corner, and I look at him, eyebrow raised. It’s huge, barely fitting on the backseat, a ridiculous, over-the-top kind of package.
“I’m not kidding,” he says, half-laughing. “You’ll have to wait.”
“Until when?”
We’re driving into Brooklyn now, getting closer to Nanna Toni’s place. He turns down a narrow street and parks before we reach the house.
“Until now,” he says, shutting off the engine and sliding his seat back. He’s still grinning, that smug, confident smile that makes my insides twist. “You’re looking at me like you don’t want it anymore.”
“I don’t like waiting.”
“You like what happens after.” He unbuckles my seatbelt then pulls me across the seat, and I laugh. “Come here,” he says, a low growl in his throat, and I forget all about the present.
My legs are over him, straddling his lap. He kisses me hard, gripping my arms, then my hips, moving so fast I can barely breathe. I bury my fingers in his hair, tugging, pulling, trying to get even closer. The windows fog up, and the air is sticky and thick. I want him everywhere.
“God, Leo,” I say, and it comes out half a moan. His teeth scrape at my neck, my collarbone. My fingers go to his jeans, and I gasp when I get them unbuttoned. His cock is warm and heavy in my hand. He groans, thrusting up against me.
“Fuck, Eleanor,” he mutters, voice strained. “Do you even know what you do to me?” He’s tugging at my shirt, fingers on my bare skin. I try to kick my pants off, and he laughs. “You want it that bad, huh?”
“Shut up.” I grind against him, feeling how ready I am, aching and wet. His mouth moves to my ear, his breath a shiver down my neck. He grips my ass, steadying me. His fingers slide inside my panties, teasing my clit in slow circles. I gasp, arching into his hand.
“You like that?” he whispers, biting my earlobe.
“Yes.” I’m trembling. “God, Leo, please—”
But he keeps going, keeps driving me insane. A finger slips inside me, and I buck against him, nearly crying out. He captures the sound in his mouth, kissing me hard and deep, his tongue tracing mine. It’s all too much, but I don’t want it to stop.
He doesn’t let up, just keeps on with his merciless pace until I can’t take it anymore. Everything goes white and hot. I shudder, clenching around his fingers, nearly screaming.
He holds me while I catch my breath, pulling back just enough to see my face. “My turn,” he says, a dangerous look in his eyes. I’m already pulling at my underwear, shifting on his lap. His pants are down enough. It’s all we need.
When he pushes into me, it’s perfect. Relentless and raw. I wrap my arms around him and rock with his thrusts, harder, faster.
He bites my shoulder, muffling his groans. I move faster, urging him on, clenching tight. My back arches, and I see stars. I’m coming again, crying out, nails digging into his arms.
His rhythm falters, and he’s right there with me. We fall apart together, and the world disappears. Just the two of us and the wild beating of our hearts.
The windows are fogged up, and it feels like hours before I can speak. I pull my shirt back on and collapse against the seat, half in his lap, still breathless.
“That was...” I don’t even know how to finish.
“You’re welcome,” he says, eyes fierce, hair a wild mess.
I laugh, shaking my head. “Your pants are still undone.”
He shrugs, unfazed, but does them up. “The box isn’t,” he says. “I know you want it.”
I watch him, smiling happily. I’m still flushed and tingling, but there’s a nervous twist in my stomach as I reach into the backseat and grab the package. “You’re not off the hook if I don’t like it.”
“Open the damn thing.” He’s grinning, but there’s an edge to it. I think he’s worried.
The ribbon comes loose, and the box flips open. A small brown face looks up at me. It’s a tiny brown puppy, fur soft and curly, eyes wide and trusting. It leaps into my arms, licking my neck and covering my skin in tiny wet kisses. I can barely hold it, squirming and wriggling.
“Oh, God,” I say, breathless for an entirely different reason.
“You hate it,” he says. “Fuck, I knew—”
“I love it.”
He blinks, like he’s waiting for the punchline. I bury my face in the dog’s fur, let it wriggle all over me. My mind races, and my heart is a stampede in my chest.
“You’re not just saying that?” He watches me carefully, those wild hazel eyes suddenly serious.
“No.” I squeeze the animal tight, and it wiggles. My breath catches, remembering the pets I’ve lost. “I mean it, Leo. I really do.”
I can see him relax. He reaches over, ruffles the dog’s ears with his tattooed hand. “It reminded me of you. Tiny and cute, with a lot of attitude.”
“Is that right?” I smile, and the hesitation fades away.
“You’re not afraid?”
“I’m terrified,” I admit, meeting his eyes. “But I’ve learned a thing or two about surprises.” The dog bounces between us, pawing my chest, chewing my shirt. “They're not always bad.”
He grabs my face and kisses me, slow and tender. I sink into it, into him. Into the life I never thought I could have.
The car is hot and messy and loud with the sound of the city. The box and ribbon lie scattered on the seat. I watch him tie the puppy’s red bow around its neck and feel what it’s like to belong.
“Who's the cutest little man in the world,” I say, holding the dog up in the air.
Leonardo shakes his head. “You better be talking about me.”
The kitchen is loud with family. I sit between Juliet and Carmela as Nanna Toni curses at the coffeemaker.
Leo and the other boys shout across the table, mouths full of pastry.
We pass plates like it’s a relay race. Pancakes.
Sausages. Bread. Nothing fancy, but way too much of it.
Everyone eats like they’ll never eat again.
“Holy shit, hon,” Carmela says, watching me try to keep up. “You don’t have to taste everything.”
Leo elbows Dom in the ribs and grins. “That’s my wife.”
Dom shakes his head. “I’ll never know why she stuck around with you.”
The old woman turns around and points a bony finger. “Stop breaking each other’s balls and pour me some damn coffee.”
She’s fierce. Tiny. And bossy. The house isn’t large, and she fills it with her voice, with her lipstick and her pearls and the smell of her baking.
There’s a storm of graying curls above her head.
Her bright eyes flash around the table, and she mutters in Italian.
We’re all trying to keep up, everyone talking, shouting, laughing.
She shoves a plate of sausage in front of me and winks.
“You got him trained yet?” Carmela giggles as the dog buries itself in my lap.
“Leo or the puppy?” I say, ruffling its floppy ears.
“Both, hon.”
Juliet’s warm, hazel eyes sparkle. I don’t know how I got used to seeing her this way—happy, laughing, herself. She helps me keep the animal in check as it squirms all over the place, licking syrup from our plates. “Have you decided on a name?”
Leo shrugs. “We’re calling him Paz. For Vinny Pazienza.”
“The boxer?” Rafe says. “Isn’t that a little—”
“What?” Leo says. “Violent?”
I expect the room to go silent, but it doesn’t. The laughter is good-natured, and I don’t feel like an outsider. Not anymore.
“We can always change it,” I say.
Leo shakes his head. “Hell no. It’s a good name.”
Nanna Toni turns from the counter, finally sipping on a cup of coffee. “Good dog, bad fighter. Sounds just like you, Leonardo.”
The room explodes. I grin at Leo, and he glares at them, scowling like a little boy. “Assholes,” he mutters, but he’s laughing too.
“Then you fit right in,” I say. Leonardo catches my eye and smiles. I’m shocked at how warm I feel. At how easily this family has become my own.
Everyone’s talking and eating and calling each other names. Rafe and Matteo take turns teasing Leo, and Carmela gives them hell for it. Sal sits at the head of the table, smug and satisfied, like he’s orchestrated the whole damn thing.
“Eat, eat!” Nanna Toni shouts, and the noise swells around us. She downs her second cup of coffee before I finish a pancake. “What are you all looking at?” She pours herself more and sits. The table shakes as she cuts her waffles, half a stick of butter on each. “It’s no good cold. Go on!”
“We’ll never finish it,” I say, eyes wide as Carmela pour orange juice into my glass.
“Better than you getting too skinny and Leo leaving you,” she says.
Everyone laughs again. Even Rafe smothers a grin behind his napkin.
My sides hurt from laughing, from trying to keep up. The old woman talks and eats at twice my pace, giving orders and demanding answers.
Juliet leans over, and I can see the mischief in her eyes. “Better than dinner with father, isn’t it?”
I shiver dramatically. “There are no accountants,” I say. “No business partners.”
“No cold silences.” She looks at me, smiling.
It’s not just me. Juliet has slotted into this family too, finding her place helping Sal and Leonardo assess the quality of rocks. Nobody has a finer eye for cut, color and clarity than my sister. “You keeping busy?”
“For now.” She gives a soft smile. “You know it’s not what I want.”
“What’s that?” Nanna Toni interrupts. “I better hear no secrets at my table.”
Juliet looks at her, playful and defiant. “I was just telling my sister I won’t be staying here forever. I’m going to travel the world, see the sights.”
Nanna Toni squints and wrinkles her nose. “You going to Sicily, you tell Anna and Carmine to give you the bed by the window. Tell Lucia her kids need a smack and a better father. Tell Franco and Tiziana they better write before they’re dead, the ungrateful brats.”
My sister laughs, catching my hand under the table. “That’s an awful lot of telling,” she says. “And I’m only thinking about going.”
“You will,” Nanna Toni says. She looks at me, then at Leo. “When is this boy buying Eleanor a place already?”
“Keep your hair on,” Leonardo says, sounding almost offended. “There’s a house picked out in Red Hook. It’s just a matter of time.”
Nanna Toni snorts. “Yeah. And you’ll all be late for my funeral.”
We eat and argue, and I can barely keep track of what I put in my mouth, let alone the words I throw back and forth. There’s no quiet moment. I can’t believe the chaos, how good it feels, how warm it is. Nanna Toni sends my head spinning, especially when she gets started on Sicily again.
“Be careful, hon,” Carmela says, an amused look on her face. “When she talks like that, it means you’re doomed.”
“I’ll go if Eleanor comes with me,” Juliet teases.
The old woman looks at us and grins. “Buy an old lady a ticket too.”
“I think it sounds nice,” I say. “I always wanted a big family.”
Carmela gets a strange look on her face, half a smile. “You think we’re joking, but we have so many relatives—”
“We better start packing,” I interrupt.
Nanna Toni yells names and addresses over the clatter of plates, and I lean back, trying to catch my breath, with a squirming puppy in my arms and Juliet safely beside me.