Quinn #2
He gives me that sexy grin that I have no doubt works like a charm on most people, but not me. Well, not all the time. "That wasn't personal."
I stare at him. "That is the worst defense I've ever heard."
The corner of his mouth lifts. "I know."
"But you didn't trust me."
The humor fades. "No."
"Then when did that change?"
His gaze holds mine, he’s quiet for a moment but then his fingers resume their slow path through my hair. "It wasn't one thing, it was a few things."
I grin up at him. “Such as?”
"The way you treat Valentina."
I smile. "That's because Val is easy to love."
"Also, it’s the way you speak to the staff."
My smile fades. "What?"
"You thank them."
I stare at him in disbelief. "Of course I do."
"You'd be surprised at the amount of people who don’t."
The answer makes me sad. I don’t understand why you wouldn’t thank people who are helping you, regardless of whether they’re being paid to do so. I know my parents don’t and neither does Daire, but they’re assholes and it’s expected they’d be ignorant toward the staff.
"It’s also the way your brothers look at you."
I frown. "What does that mean?"
"They'd kill for you."
I snort. "They absolutely would."
"I know." The way he says it makes me laugh again.
His expression softens. "And then there was Orla."
My laughter dies, and the room falls silent as I wait for him to continue.
"You never defended yourself."
I stare at him, confused as to why that would make him change his mind about me. "What?"
"Everyone else did." His gaze holds mine as his fingers continue to run through my hair. "Daire defended herself by lying, and so did your parents. They had excuses for why they covered it up."
The mention of my parents leaves a bitter taste in my mouth.
"You didn't."
I don't know what to say to that, because he's right, I didn't. I was too tired, too ashamed, and too used to nobody listening.
"I had an inkling that something wasn't right, and everything pointed at Daire telling the truth, but I doubted it. I never fully trusted her word."
His confession makes my chest ache, because he had doubted me. For weeks he'd looked at me differently and he'd pulled away. But he'd never completely believed her either.
"I wanted to hate you for it," I admit quietly. His hand stills in my hair. I force myself to keep going. "For believing her. For looking at me like I was capable of something like that."
Regret flashes across his face. "I know. I was angry," he says. "At the situation, at what happened to Orla, but more importantly, I was angry at the possibility that everyone had lied to us again."
I nod. I understand that. I don't like it, but I understand it.
Silence settles between us for a moment and his fingers start moving through my hair again. Slow, steady, and comforting.
I stare at his chest. "Is that why you pulled away?"
His hand pauses briefly.
"The weeks before the wedding," I say quietly. "You went cold on me."
His jaw tightens. "Yes."
The honesty hurts, even now.
"You couldn't even look at me sometimes."
His gaze drops to mine. "I know."
I swallow, trying to fight the tears. "That was the worst part."
His brows furrow as he watches me. "What was?"
"Not knowing." The words come out softer than I intended. "I knew something had changed, but I didn't know why." I look away. "I thought maybe you'd changed your mind."
"About marrying you?"
I shrug. "What else was I supposed to think?"
He goes very still and for a long moment neither of us says anything.
Then his hand cups the back of my head. "That was never the problem, Quinn."
My heart stumbles. "Then what was?"
"The possibility that I was wrong about you." His voice is low and careful. "And the fact that I didn't know which answer would be worse."
Silence spreads between us for a moment, but I let out a slow breath. "That's a horrible answer."
I watch the corner of his mouth twitch. "I know."
"No, seriously." I shift slightly so I can look at him properly. "Only you could make something sound that complicated."
A low laugh rumbles in his chest.
I smile despite myself, then the smile fades. Because there's something I've been wondering for a while now, something nobody really talks about.
"Can I ask you something?"
His fingers continue moving through my hair. "You keep asking that after you've already asked."
I roll my eyes. "Lorenzo."
His mouth twitches. "Ask."
I hesitate, take a steadying breath, and then ask. "Was your mother anything like mine?"
Lorenzo lets out a slow breath. "No."
The answer comes without hesitation. I don't know why, but I'm relieved.
"No?" I ask.
He shakes his head. "My mother wasn't soft. She wasn't the type to fuss over people or smother us with affection." The corner of his mouth lifts slightly. "If one of us was injured she'd tell us to stop bleeding on her floors."
A laugh escapes me. "I would have liked her."
"You would have." There's certainty in his voice. His gaze drifts toward the window. "My mother loved us. There was never any doubt about that." The smile fades from his face. "She made sure we knew it."
Something twists in my chest, because I can't imagine what that must have felt like to never question it, to never wonder, to never spend your life trying to earn something that should have been given freely.
"She sounds amazing."
A long silence follows and when Lorenzo finally speaks, his voice is quieter. "She was."
The grief in that single word steals the breath from my lungs. I don't know what to say to that. I don’t know how to help, so I push myself up and move closer to him.
His arm comes around me immediately, pulling me against his chest. I rest my cheek over his heart and listen to the steady beat beneath my ear. He presses a kiss to the top of my head, his arms tighten around me, and I hold him right back.
There’s a knock on the bedroom door and before either of us can answer, the door starts to open. Thankfully Lorenzo is quicker than I am and reaches for the sheet to cover me.
"You're both still in bed," Valentina says with far too much satisfaction. "This is the greatest day of my life."
"Go away, Val," Lorenzo snarls at her.
"No." She points at me. "Erin's here, we're going for lunch."
I look at Lorenzo and see him watching me. He gives me that grin again and my heart flutters. "Go."
That's it, just one word. No questions, no discussion. I smile despite myself
Valentina gasps dramatically. "Oh my God, he's actually sharing."
"Val," he warns.
She ignores him. "You have ten minutes before we leave," she tells me as she closes the door.
Erin is standing in the entrance hall when I come downstairs.
She's looking at her phone, one hip propped against the wall, completely unaware that I'm studying her.
She's beautiful. Her blonde hair falls halfway down her back in loose waves, the color somewhere between honey and gold.
Her eyes are a bright blue that stand out against sun-kissed skin, and she's tall, taller than me by a fair bit.
She looks up from her phone and smiles, and somehow she's even prettier when she does that.
"There she is," she says with a bright smile.
"Sorry, I lost track of time."
"Don't apologize." She falls into step beside me as Valentina appears with her coat, three sets of keys and the energy of someone embarking on a mission. "Valentina's been talking about you since the wedding."
"Good things?" I say.
"She said you have the best taste in books and you make proper tea." Erin grins. "High praise."
"The highest," Valentina confirms. “Now, lunch.”
We go to a restaurant in the city that Valentina says her father, Cesare, owns. It makes sense why everyone seems to know who she is. I let Val order for me and I sit back and let the women talk as I get to know Erin.
"How are you finding it?" she asks. “Living with the Mariano's? They can be a bit overwhelming if you’re not used to it.”
"Good," I say, honestly. "Actually good."
"Val said things were rough at the start."
I nod. "They were."
"She also said they're not anymore."
I look at my coffee. "Getting better. I didn't expect it to feel like a home. Any of it. I expected to be tolerated, mostly."
“I’m glad that you have found that. That you have a home.”
Something about the way she says it makes me look up, her eyes are filled with sincerity.
“Thank you,” I say quietly.
Erin smiles. "Everyone deserves somewhere they feel safe."
Valentina reaches across the table and tears off a piece of my bread roll. "You're being deep again."
Erin throws a napkin at her. "I'm having a conversation."
“You're scaring her.”
“I am not.”
I laugh. “No, you're not.”
Erin points at me. “See.”
Valentina rolls her eyes dramatically. “You're both exhausting.”
Our food arrives and we dig in. I'm having a great time. I owe Valentina so much for including me in her life. She didn’t have to, but she’s made my transition into the Mariano family seamless. I don’t know what I’d have done without her help and friendship.
"So," Erin says, taking a bite of her pasta. "Has anyone told you about the Great Marco Disaster?"
Valentina immediately starts laughing. "Oh my God."
I look between them. "The what?"
Erin points at her. "You tell it."
Val shovels more food into her mouth and shakes her head. "No. You tell it."
"You're both terrible."
"Marco got arrested," Erin announces.
I blink. "What?"
"He did not get arrested," Valentina says.
Erin waves a hand. "He was detained."
"He was questioned," Val corrects.
"He spent six hours in a holding cell."
Val groans. "Because somebody told him undercover officers were supposed to act natural."
Erin starts laughing so hard she nearly chokes. "I told him nobody would suspect a man carrying a traffic cone."
I stare at her. "You gave Marco a traffic cone?"
"He carried it for three blocks."
Valentina loses whatever composure she had left. "Three blocks, Quinn. Three. Then a cop stopped him and asked why he was stealing city property."
"And what did he say?" I ask.
Erin grins. "'Because Erin told me to.'"