Chapter 17
Luca woke the next morning and knew before he even opened his eyes this was what he wanted, more than anything else.
The warmth of Oliver next to him, even as he snored quietly away, the peaceful sound of him sleeping, filled his heart with joy.
He’d meant it last night. He hadn’t thought a happy ending, specifically with Oliver or generally at all, was in the cards for him.
But seeing the way Oliver had met his family and hadn’t flinched and hadn’t been overwhelmed by their overwhelmingness, made him feel like even though the decision he’d made was the right one.
It wasn’t going to be easy not being here.
Even if he came back every few weeks, to check on things, it wouldn’t be his home anymore.
That’s because home isn’t a place. It’s a person, and it’s Oliver.
He’d sort of expected his mother to panic at the thought he could be this serious about someone after only knowing them for a few weeks, but he’d seen the love and approval in her face, in her gaze, as she’d looked at him and Oliver together, and when someone felt this right, it turned out length of time didn’t matter.
He and Oliver were both adults. They’d established their own businesses. They’d taken hits and experienced misses and learned what worked for them and what didn’t.
It was why Luca knew, deep down, in a place he’d spent all these years ignoring, that Oliver was the right man for him, and he’d love him, no matter how everything turned out, every single day for the rest of his life.
“I can hear you thinking over there,” Oliver muttered into his pillow, and Luca realized that he’d woken up.
“Oh . . .uh . . .yeah,” Luca stammered. He turned over and was rewarded with the adorable sight of Oliver, pillow creases running along his cheek and hair a complete and total mess. “Good morning.”
“Is it good?” Oliver asked quietly. “Or are you over there wishing you hadn’t made so many big decisions yesterday?”
Luca was shocked. “Do you really . . .no. No. I don’t regret a thing. Do you?”
It had never occurred to him Oliver might regret it. Not after he’d fit in so well with his family, just like Luca had known he would.
But maybe he did regret it. Maybe he thought they’d both been too hasty, dragged along by so much excess emotion. Maybe he was worried Luca regretted it, because Oliver did.
Oliver burst out laughing. “No, never. Not at all, actually. I don’t really know how this is going to work, not at all, because I sort of thought, yesterday, you were going to basically move to Indigo Bay, but now I’m here, and you belong here. So I guess I could get a place here and—”
Luca stopped him before he could go any further. Just pressed his fingers against his lips, which was distracting for various other reasons.
“I want to move to Indigo Bay,” he said. “I don’t know much about how any of this is going to work, but I do know that.”
Oliver looked surprised. “But—”
“I love them. But . . .I need a life outside of them. At least some life outside of them.”
“How are you gonna manage that?” Oliver asked.
Luca couldn’t help it; he made a face. “Ask an easier question, okay?”
“That’s why you came back, didn’t you? To figure it out.”
Luca nodded, and Oliver moved closer, draping himself over Luca’s chest.
“That makes me happy,” he murmured into Luca’s pectoral muscle. “Really fucking happy. Maybe it shouldn’t . . .but it does.”
“Because I want the life that isn’t my family to be you?” Luca asked absently, sifting his fingers through Oliver’s very messy hair.
But Oliver tensed up, and only then did Luca really think about what he was saying.
That wasn’t a very casual statement, was it?
It was serious as hell.
Clearly you don’t do this often.
Had he freaked Oliver out?
What else could he have possibly meant when he told Oliver he loved him? He’d never felt romantic love before, not like this. It was serious for him. Totally fucking serious, picket-fences-and-exchange-rings-someday kind of serious.
But then Oliver propped his chin up on his arms, gaze staring right into Luca’s face, and he didn’t look freaked out at all.
He looked pleased. He looked happy.
That’s the look, Luca realized, you’re going to devote yourself to putting on his face for the rest of your life.
“How did anyone think you were a cold, hard asshole?” Oliver demanded to know. “When you say romantic shit like that, I can barely even breathe.”
“I also told you I loved you first,” Luca said proudly.
“Exactly,” Oliver said, flopping back down onto Luca’s chest. “You’re a huge sap, and I love it. Love you.”
For a minute—or ten—they didn’t move. Just lying there together, Luca’s hand in Oliver’s hair, enjoying the peace. Enjoying the true contentment they both felt now that they knew this wasn’t going to just end in a few days, or in a week, or in a month.
“But,” Luca finally said, clearing his throat, “I do need to figure this shit out with my family, while I’m here.”
“Yeah, you do.” Oliver’s voice sounded regretful. “They love you. And you love them. It’s not going to be easy.”
“My Nonna used to say something: easy isn’t worth doing.”
“Yeah?”
“I think she’s looking down on me now, smirking. Because she’s right, but it still sucks.”
Oliver’s expression was wistful. “You think she’d have liked me?”
“You gonna make me happy every day for the rest of my life?” It was a big ask, Luca knew it. But he was all-in on this. Oliver had to know that by now.
“Yeah,” Oliver said, reaching up and cupping his cheek. “I absolutely am.”
“Then, I think it’s safe to say she’d have absolutely adored you.”
“Good.”
Luca’s hand slipped down Oliver’s neck, to the smooth line of his spine, his fingertips hesitating right over the waistband of his briefs, considering going even lower.
They weren’t going to have much time to be alone, and maybe they should take advantage of the quiet morning.
But right when Oliver’s breath caught in his throat as his fingers slipped under the elastic, his phone dinged. Then dinged again. And then it went off a third time.
“Shit,” Luca muttered.
“That’s your family, isn’t it?”
“This is why I’m looking forward to being in Indigo Bay. Way less distractions,” Luca said.
But Oliver was grinning so brightly, like he didn’t even mind. “You think,” he asked, as he flopped back on the other side of the bed, giving Luca room to retrieve his phone from the bedside table, “they’re actually going to leave you alone once you’re across the country?”
Luca glanced at the screen. Two messages from Gabe. One from Marco. Two from his mother.
At least half of these must have come in before he woke up, which meant that he had limited time before one of them—undoubtedly his mother—panicked and showed up at the front door.
“No,” he admitted. “But I can turn a phone off.”
Oliver chuckled. “What do they want?”
“Gabriel says he and Marco are going to the restaurant, meeting up with Marcella and my parents. He says Ren refuses to deal with ‘family drama’ and is going to head out to breakfast and then to a few wineries. He asked if you wanted to go with him.”
“What’s Ren’s deal?” Oliver asked.
“Oh, God, that’s a kettle of worms. He’s just . . .well, Ren. Didn’t want a relationship, so basically made it a habit of hooking up with anyone and everyone, and you can see from the way he looks that wasn’t particularly difficult.”
“What’s wrong with that? What’s wrong with not wanting a relationship?” Oliver asked, curiously.
What was wrong with that? At least Ren had always been unapologetic about how he conducted his business. Luca had been pretending for years, saying he wanted to find someone but never trying very hard.
“Nothing,” Luca admitted. “We’re just very different and he—”
“Likes to annoy you?” Oliver finished with a laugh. “Yeah, I can see that.”
“If it’s not too much trouble . . .please keep him occupied.”
“For you?” Oliver asked archly. “Cause going to breakfast and a few wineries doesn’t exactly sound too strenuous.”
“It won’t be. But Ren is still Ren, even though he’s settled down now.”
“I like him,” Oliver offered. And it was true.
After he’d gotten used to seeing that face, he’d discovered Ren was hilarious—snarky and absolutely outrageous, without an ounce of shame about it.
“I don’t mind hanging out with him today.
I know you’ve got stuff to do. Family to deal with.
I don’t want to be in the way of any of that. ”
Luca dropped the phone into the covers and wrapped his whole body around Oliver’s. “You could never be in the way,” Luca murmured into his ear. “It’s just—”
“I get it. I really, really get it,” Oliver promised. “And I have a feeling I’d have more fun with Ren anyway.”
“What does it say about how much I’m dreading this conversation that I think I’d have more fun with Ren?” Luca asked.
“Nothing easy is worth doing, right?” he said, chuckling.
Luca sighed. “It’s annoying when you’re right.”
“Me and Nonna,” Oliver said with a wiggle of his body that made Luca want nothing more to pin him to the bed and forget real life for the next few hours.
But he needed to face his family.
Plus, in two days Oliver had to fly back to Indigo Bay, and while he hadn’t made any promises to him about how soon he’d be able to join him, Luca wanted to be on the same flight, right next to him. Going home.
Luca pressed a kiss to Oliver’s bare shoulder and reluctantly slid out of bed.
It was time to face the day.
Time to face the music.
Luca dropped Oliver off with a kiss at the local diner his whole family liked for breakfast.
Bracing himself, he drove over to the steakhouse where they were all meeting. He didn’t know what he’d be walking into, but he knew it wouldn’t be easy, whatever they all wanted to say to him.
What he didn’t expect was to walk into the back kitchen and see Marco—and just Marco—working the espresso machine.
Marco glanced over his shoulder. “Oh, good,” his brother said, “it’s you. I’ve got your cappuccino here. Double shot. Or do you want a triple?”