Chapter 17 #3
“I know,” Matteo acknowledged. “I let you do it anyway because I was too broken to care. But then a few months later, the fog lifted, I looked up, and you were taking care of everything. I told myself it was easier not to demote you, so I just let you keep going. Even though I should’ve said something.
Told you that it wasn’t necessary to shoulder every burden of this business. Of this family.”
“Oh. Oh.” Luca was beginning to understand. Those confusing emotions were beginning to sort themselves into recognizable forms.
He was understandably sad that this chapter was closing.
He felt regret that he’d ignored everything he wanted for so long.
He was relieved and happy and completely, utterly grateful that everyone in this room wanted the best for him—that they recognized the best for him was to start something new, something of his own, with Oliver.
“We love you, Luca,” his dad said seriously.
“We want you to be happy. And I don’t think you’ve been that happy, doing this with us.
If you moving to Indigo Bay means you’re happy, and you work less, and we see you a little less often, it’s not going to be easy, because we love you. But we still want you to do it.”
“Okay.” Luca swallowed hard.
“I’m sorry, too, that I let you shoulder it all for so long,” Matteo said. “You were just so good at it.” His mouth twisted into a wry smile. “And I think you’re going to be amazing at whatever you choose to do after this.”
“I don’t know,” Marco teased from next to him. “He might be total shit at relationships. We better hope Oliver’s a patient guy.”
“Oliver’s practically been sainted already,” Marcella offered. “But I think he’ll keep Luca on his toes.”
“He’d better,” Gabe said.
“If you didn’t think he could face off with me, should you really have sent him off with our cousin?” Luca questioned, raising an eyebrow.
Gabe, that betrayer, just laughed. “Oh, I think he and Ren are gonna do just fine together. Ren’s excited to indoctrinate him into all the Moretti bullshit.”
“What Moretti bullshit?” Marco asked.
Luca rolled his eyes. He loved his brother, but he was real slow sometimes.
“You really think dealing with all of this is easy?” Luca asked, waving his hands around.
“I thought we were being pretty easy,” Nicoletta retorted tartly.
Luca laughed. “It’s part of your charm, honestly, Mama. The whole thing. Even your King of Emotions bullshit, Gabe.”
Nicoletta leaned over to where Marcella was sitting. “Change is hard,” she said, “and it’s clearly broken your brother. Oh well, it was nice while it lasted.”
“You going to sell your place?” Marco asked.
“No, I think I’ll keep it,” Luca said. It had made good logical sense to buy it a few years ago, and it wasn’t like real estate had stopped being a solid investment.
“What the hell are you going to do in that small town?” Gabe asked.
“Yeah, Giana’s already got a Nonna’s there,” Marco pointed out.
“I don’t know,” Luca said slowly. Though he did have an inkling—a few inklings, honestly—but he didn’t want to tell his family before it was a sure thing. “But I’m sure I’m going to figure it out.”
“The one thing I’m sure of,” Matteo said, patting him on the shoulder. “Is that you won’t ever be bored. And if you do ever get bored, come back here for a bit.”
“I won’t need to, cause like I said, I’ll be back regularly.” Luca hesitated. “More than you probably want me to be,” he added wryly.
“I think probably just enough,” Marco said, and that, Luca realized, was all he’d ever wanted.
To be appreciated. To be missed a little. And lastly to be told that it was okay for him to go find his own way.
“So,” Oliver said, leaning back in their private booth. “It’s all figured out, huh?”
Marco had insisted on them coming to dinner at the steakhouse tonight to have a “real dinner” during their last night in Napa, before they both flew out tomorrow.
As promised, Marco had prepared them an amazing meal—filet with marsala and mushroom sauce, cauliflower gnocchi and braised radicchio, following it up with a decadent and light tiramisu that they were supposed to be sharing.
Luca glanced at the three-quarters demolished dessert and realized he’d eaten most of it.
Whoops.
Well, it was hardly his fault, if it was right here, delicious and nearly irresistible, but Oliver kept eyeing Luca across the table, like he was the truly irresistible one.
And now, just as Luca had expected, was the question they’d been dancing around.
They’d talked about it of course. After Ren had dropped him off yesterday, it wasn’t like Luca had kept his conversation with his family a secret. He hadn’t.
But today, he’d spent much of the day closeted in the main office with Dario, going over details, and finally, with his father’s assistance, and Gabe’s surprising gift for enforcing cooperation and collaboration, they’d put together a rudimentary schedule, splitting up Luca’s duties.
“It’s a work in progress,” Luca admitted, toying with his dessert spoon. “But yeah, I think . . .I think it’ll work out. Dario surprised me.”
Oliver had spent much of that time with Marco in the steakhouse kitchen, which had surprised everyone but Oliver. “What,” Oliver had asked in surprise when the offer had come in, “you didn’t realize how alike we are?”
Luca hadn’t. But then he also hadn’t realized that Dario had turned into a younger version of himself, either. “I guess,” he’d retorted, “I should be grateful you aren’t spending more time with Lorenzo.”
“Ren went back to LA. Some food truck emergency. Left Gabe here, with the hope he could stop you from killing your brothers or your father.”
Not that it had ever come close to that. And to Luca’s shock, Gabe had actually offered to help out, if needed.
They’d all agreed it would have to be on an emergency basis, but it had meant a lot to Luca that Gabe had volunteered.
Could tell it had meant a lot to Gabriel that he’d been appreciative of the gesture.
They weren’t fixed, not by any stretch. There were too many years of bad blood for everything to be fine, now, but they were better than they’d been in ages.
Luca believed their renewed relationship was half Oliver’s doing, for encouraging him to reach out in the first place, and also half the fact he was going to be three thousand miles away and understandably less interested in micromanaging every Moretti family member.
“Told you Dario wasn’t a kid anymore,” Oliver said with a smile.
Luca barely refrained from rolling his eyes. “You hadn’t even met him when you said that. You can’t possibly be right about everything.”
“Oh, but I can,” Oliver teased. “And I will.”
“Is this how it’s going to be?” Luca wondered out loud. Taking another bite of tiramisu because it was right there and it was delicious and also, he was trying this new thing where he actually enjoyed life.
Enjoyed the fact he was happy—wallowed in it, in fact. Didn’t hesitate to take Oliver’s hand. Didn’t try to put a respectful distance between them. Ate what he craved. Drank good wine. Made love like every day could be his last.
It was so different from how he’d lived before Indigo Bay, and change wasn’t easy, but it felt like each day was better than the one before it, and that was a blessing Luca wasn’t ever going to take for granted again.
“I sure hope so,” Oliver said. He was smiling again. Content this time. Like he knew, too, that Luca felt the same.
“I keep thinking we’re being smug about this,” Luca said, “but if you can’t be smug about your awesome, glorious love life, then what can you be smug about?”
“Oh, I’m sure you’ll find something,” Oliver teased, eyes sparkling. “But this is good, for now. Perfect, actually.” He paused. “You ready to go back home?”
Luca reached across the table, took his hand in his and squeezed. “Yes,” he said.