Twenty-Nine
ANGELO
A ngelo sighed as the buzzer echoed through his apartment, snapping him out of his thoughts. He was in the middle of making breakfast for Allison, hoping to bring it to her in bed. Maybe then they could finally talk about what had happened two days ago—aka the spontaneous shower and kitchen escapades.
Things had gotten… intimate. Real intimate.
But the day after? Total chaos. Angelo had barely had time to grab a bite to eat, wedging a late lunch between back-to-back meetings. His contact with Allison had been reduced to a few check-in texts, most of which were some variation of “How are you?” and “Miss you.” By the time he got home—long after midnight—he found her curled up on the couch with a blanket, her e-reader in hand. He still had no idea what those things were actually called. Kindle? Nook? Electronic Book Rectangle?
He’d scooped her up and carried her upstairs, placing her gently in his bed—where she belonged. They’d cuddled through the night like a couple that had been married for years, though technically, they hadn’t even officially moved in together yet. The following day had been a rinse and repeat. He left at an ungodly hour, came back at an even worse one, and found Allison fast asleep once more.
But today—today was supposed to be different. Angelo finally had a free half-day, the perfect opportunity to talk things out, clear the air, and maybe squeeze in some breakfast-in-bed points. Just him, Allison, and—
“Surprise!”
Angelo’s heart dropped as his brain registered the voice. He clutched the door handle, spatula in hand, as if it were some kind of weapon. His sister, Katia, stood in the doorway, beaming like she’d just won the lottery. Surrounding her? Three suitcases, all large enough to suggest she wasn’t just visiting for coffee.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Angelo groaned, slumping in disbelief. He glanced over his shoulder toward the bedroom, hoping—praying—Allison was still asleep.
“What the hell are you doing here?” he demanded, eyes darting between the luggage and her annoyingly cheery expression. He knew the answer was going to make his life complicated.
Katerina rolled her eyes and breezed past him, dragging one of her many suitcases inside. “Nice to see you too, Angie.”
“Angie?” His groan turned into a low growl, the familiar sting of that nickname hitting him right in the childhood trauma. Twenty-four years old, and she still called him Angie. To make matters worse, he knew she wasn’t planning to stop any time soon.
She’s never going to quit that name, is she?
Katerina, meanwhile, was already making herself comfortable, plopping down on the couch like she owned the place. Angelo took a deep breath, grabbing the rest of her suitcases from the hallway. If he could just sneak through this morning without Allison waking up, maybe—just maybe—he could dodge the conversation about why he had moved in with the mother of his child without a heads-up to the family.
“Come on, give your brother a hug, mikrí ,” Angelo said, trying to shift gears. He opened his arms wide, knowing full well this would irritate her to no end.
He absolutely loved teasing Katerina ever since they were kids. It was practically a sport for him. He’d find tiny, infuriating ways to push her buttons until she would snap and inevitably get herself into trouble with their parents. It was how he showed affection, though she’d probably argue that point. One of his favorite tactics? Calling her mikrí —the Greek word for “young lady.” She hated it, which made it all the more satisfying.
True to form, Katerina punched him in the arm, a quick jab with just enough force to remind him she wasn’t a little kid anymore. “ Stamáta !” she snapped, her face scrunched up in frustration.
“Hey, hey, just showing some love,” Angelo chuckled, rubbing his arm dramatically. “Don’t bruise me before breakfast. How else am I supposed to guilt-trip you into doing dishes?”
Of course, Katerina still hugged him, despite the obligatory sibling protest. She barely reached his chin, but she squeezed with enough force to make up for it.
He couldn’t help but grin. No matter how annoying she was, he had missed his little sister. They’d always had this unspoken bond, and in moments like this, it didn’t matter how long they’d been apart. After six months, the connection was still there.
“I missed you, Katia,” he murmured, ruffling her hair, knowing she’d hate it.
She sighed against his chest, squeezing tighter. “I missed you too, aderfé .”
The moment lasted a little too long for Angelo’s comfort. He shot another nervous glance upstairs toward the bedroom door, half-expecting Allison to pop out any second. Because if there was one thing that could make his life even more awkward than his sister’s surprise visit, it was introducing her to Allison while she was still in bed—preferably wearing more than a T-shirt.
“Well, don’t get too comfortable,” Angelo teased, pulling away, his sister still in his arms. “I hope you like couches.”
Katerina raised an eyebrow, looking from him to the stairwell. “Why? What’s going on?”
A throat clearing cut through the air, shattering their little bubble of sibling bonding. Angelo’s arms dropped as if he’d been caught in a crime scene, his heart leaping into overdrive. He turned sharply toward the stairwell.
Allison Pink Lockwood, in all her pregnant glory, stood on the stairs, her arms crossed over her belly and an icy, no-nonsense look plastered on her face.
“And what, exactly, is happening here?” she asked, her tone slicing through the tension like a razor.
Angelo’s stomach flipped. Of course, the love of his life would choose this exact moment to catch him mid-hug with a woman she didn’t know. Perfect. Just perfect.
“Who is she?” Katerina chimed in at the same time, untangling herself from Angelo’s grasp with a furrowed brow. Her expression screamed, “ What the hell, bro?”
Angelo cursed his own spectacularly bad luck. It was like the universe had scheduled his most awkward moments on the same calendar.
Well, this is going to be fun.
“ She is standing right here,” Allison deadpanned, voice dripping with sarcasm. She slowly made her way down the stairs, her pregnant form nothing short of mesmerizing, even in just one of his oversized T-shirts. She stopped right in front of Katerina, radiating authority like a queen confronting a trespasser.
“Now, who are you,” she asked pointedly, “and what are you doing in my house?”
Angelo’s heart skipped a beat at those words. Her house. The fact that this woman had just staked her claim like that? Yeah, that did things to him.
“Allison, meet Katia Papadopoulou,” Angelo said, gesturing between the two women. And because he was, at heart, a bit of a troublemaker, he intentionally left out the detail that Katerina was his sister. Why not stir the pot a little? “Katia, meet Allison Lockwood.”
For a solid moment, no one said a thing. You could practically hear the clock ticking on the wall. Angelo could feel his heartbeat thudding in his chest, loud enough to fill the silence. Both women stared at each other, a mix of confusion and surprise passing between them. He could’ve sworn he saw a spark of amusement flicker in Katerina’s hazel eyes.
Finally, Katerina broke the silence, a grin creeping onto her face. “Wait, wait,” she started, pointing at Allison, her voice laced with incredulity. “ Is she —” She didn’t even finish the sentence before a chuckle escaped her lips. “Is she the girl?”
Angelo mentally facepalmed.
Goddammit, Katia.
Allison’s eyes narrowed, probably intrigued by whatever secret sibling joke was unfolding in front of her. Angelo quickly switched into damage control mode, clearing his throat and giving his sister a please-for-the-love-of-all-things-holy-shut-up look.
“Yes,” he said firmly, trying to nip this in the bud. “She’s the one. Now, can we maybe move this to the living room?” He gestured toward the couch, hoping to get everyone to a more neutral ground before this devolved further.
Katerina, still giggling like she had the upper hand, nodded vigorously and waltzed over to the black couch like she owned it. Meanwhile, Allison remained planted in her spot, arms still crossed, her body language clearly screaming, “ I’m not done with you yet.”
“Allison,” Angelo said softly, trying his best to use the voice he knew she liked—the one that usually softened her sharp edges. It worked, sort of. Her shoulders tensed briefly before she looked directly at him, but the anger simmering behind her eyes was hard to miss.
Angelo wasn’t a master of deciphering all the intricacies of women, but he prided himself on understanding his woman. He knew how Allison ticked—the way her emotions worked, how she handled situations, and most importantly, what really set her off. Right now, she was a ticking time bomb, and he was standing way too close.
“Allison,” he tried again, a little gentler this time. “Can we talk in the kitchen for a minute?” He nodded toward the kitchen, already regretting how many layers of awkward this day was piling on.
Without a word, Allison followed him, the sound of her bare feet soft on the hardwood floors. Angelo busied himself immediately, heading to the fridge and pulling out ingredients for breakfast. Maybe pancakes could smooth over the minefield he had accidentally wandered into. He grabbed a bowl and whisk, giving her space to process.
The kitchen was silent except for the steady clink of utensils and the rhythmic sounds of batter being mixed. He knew better than to push Allison to talk before she was ready. She’d come around when her emotions settled. Right now, she needed time—and possibly some carbs.
He flipped the first pancake onto the pan, feeling the tension behind him. He could practically hear her thinking, and it wasn’t going to be pretty when it all finally came out.
“Angelo,” she said finally, breaking the silence with a voice that could freeze boiling water.
He braced himself, spatula still in hand.
“Did you know your sister was coming?”
Angelo paused, the spatula hovering mid-flip. It was only for a fraction of a second, but long enough for him to feel the weight of the question. His shoulders dropped as he exhaled. “No,” he answered truthfully, flipping the pancake with a little more force than necessary.
“She knows who I am.”
Angelo nodded, not bothering to answer. It wasn’t a question.
“Does your—” Allison hesitated, clearing her throat as if steeling herself for what came next. “Does the rest of your family know about me?”
“They do,” he replied without missing a beat, eyes focused on the pan. That particular conversation had been awkward as hell—introducing the idea of him, Allison, and their impending child to his traditional family. But it had been important to him that they heard it from him directly, rather than through rumors or some twisted game of telephone.
An imaginary grapevine, considering Allison and I haven’t really shown up anywhere together, he thought dryly.
The kitchen fell into silence, the tension between them mingling with the smell of pancakes. The only sounds were the sizzling batter and the faint hum of the refrigerator. Angelo worked methodically, his thoughts swirling around the mess of emotions he’d been trying to suppress for weeks. Within five minutes, he had a small stack of golden, fluffy pancakes, topped with blueberries and a drizzle of maple syrup. Simple, but he knew she’d appreciate it.
He handed Allison the plate without a word, and she took it quietly. “Thank you,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.
He set the rest of the dishes aside, rinsing the utensils before turning to her, his heart pounding in his chest. He wanted to reach for her, to bridge the gap between them, but he stopped himself, knowing she needed more than just physical comfort right now.
“Allison,” he began softly, his eyes locking onto hers, jade and full of uncertainty. “I want to apologize. For everything. For how weird I’ve been these past few months. I’ve been thinking about it, and I know my actions—my hot and cold behavior—might have made you feel like I was hiding you from my family. Like I was ashamed.”
He saw her eyes glisten with unshed tears, and it only made him more determined to say everything he’d been holding in.
“In truth,” he continued, his voice lower now, “I’ve been struggling with my own mess. Between my dad’s sudden retirement and trying to figure out what’s really going on, I let myself become selfish. I was trying to protect you and our daughter, but all I did was push you away.” He swallowed hard, guilt pressing down on him. “I was arrogant, and I didn’t realize how much my own issues were hurting you. And I’m so sorry, Allison. You didn’t deserve any of that.”
Allison started to shake her head, her lips parting to protest. “Angelo, you don’t have to—”
“But I do,” he interrupted gently, not giving her the chance to shift the blame onto herself. “I need to say this. You deserve better than what I’ve been giving you. And I want to be better. For you. For us.”
Unable to resist any longer, Angelo finally reached out, his thumb brushing away a tear that had escaped down her cheek. The warmth of her skin beneath his fingers made his chest ache, and he leaned in, his lips brushing softly against her forehead in the lightest of kisses. “Please,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “Let me make this right. Let me be better for you.”
Allison’s eyes fluttered closed, her breath shaky as she whispered back, “Okay.”
The word was barely audible, but it was enough. Angelo felt an enormous weight lift off his chest, like he could finally breathe again after holding it in for far too long. He nodded once, afraid to speak and ruin the fragile peace between them, and gestured toward the living room with his head.
Now comes the fun part.
It was time to face his sister—who was likely making herself entirely too comfortable on his couch, completely unaware of the emotional earthquake she’d inadvertently caused.
As they walked toward the living room, Angelo threw Allison a quick, sideways glance. “Brace yourself,” he whispered with a smirk. “Katia’s… a lot.”
“You’re pressing your luck,” Allison scoffed, crossing her arms and popping her hip—although her smile remained. That fucking pose of hers.
Angelo felt a rush of heat. He was always drawn to this woman. So he blurted out, “Would you press it for me, sweet girl?”
She froze, and he did too. The immediate thought that flashed through his mind was whether he had gone too far. Had he gotten carried away and made her uncomfortable, as he had before?
Her gaze locked with his, and the air between them crackled with intensity. Without a word, she took a step closer, their breaths mingling. He could feel her warmth, see the desire in her eyes.
In an instant, she reached up, cupping his face with both hands. He leaned in, his heart pounding as their lips met in a heated kiss. It was urgent and consuming, full of unspoken promises and long-simmering longing.
When they finally pulled away, their breaths were ragged. The emotions from earlier were gone, replaced by an electric connection that neither of them could ignore. Angelo’s heart raced as Allison looked up at him, her eyes shimmering with a newfound intensity.
Then, as if the storm had cleared, Allison’s soft smile illuminated her face.
It had the power to knock him flat every time, no matter how many arguments, awkward sibling introductions, or sleepless nights they faced. He grinned back at her, feeling a surge of warmth in his chest that momentarily made him forget about the impending chaos in the living room.
“With you by my side, I can handle anything,” she whispered softly.
“If you say so,” he replied, rubbing the back of his neck. “But don’t say I didn’t warn you. She’s like a tornado in human form.”
Allison chuckled, her eyes sparkling for the first time since this whole awkward encounter began. “I’ve survived you, haven’t I?”
Angelo laughed, raising an eyebrow. “Fair point. I guess if you can handle me, you’re probably overqualified for Katia.”
Together, they walked toward the living room, the tension between them replaced by a newfound sense of unity. Whatever came next—tornadoes or otherwise—they’d face it together.
“No, absolutely not. You’re out of your goddamn mind if you think I’m letting you stay here, Katerina.”
Like I said. Way too much.
Angelo stood in the middle of what could only be described as a battlefield of emotions, trying—and failing—to reason with his younger sister. Katerina had somehow decided that crashing at his and Allison’s place was the most brilliant idea since sliced bread. Angelo, on the other hand, was ready to tear his hair out.
“Why the fuck not? De tha se enohló kathólou —” Katerina started, but Angelo wasn’t having it. Not today.
“Fucking English , Katia! Allison is here too.”
He shot a glance at Allison, who was sitting on the couch, her eyes bouncing back and forth like she was watching a particularly thrilling tennis match. This was as much her home as it was his, and the last thing he wanted was for her to feel like an outsider while he and Katerina threw rapid-fire Greek around the room.
Also, he had other reasons. Very pressing reasons.
If Katia stays here, I’ll never get a moment alone with Allison. Never get to kiss her, hold her, or—let’s be real—do anything remotely fun.
I will literally die if I can’t touch her.
And on top of that? Katia cannot stay here or my balls will fall off.
“Fine!” Katerina threw her hands up in frustration, tugging at her copper-brown hair as if she was the one dealing with an unreasonable sibling. “I won’t even bother you! I just need a place to stay for a couple of months! Again—until I find a place of my own!”
“A hotel exists for this exact reason!” Angelo fired back, exasperated.
“I don’t want to stay at a hotel, re maláka , I want to stay here!” Katerina’s tone was like nails on a chalkboard.
“But—”
“Okay, shut up!” Allison’s voice sliced through their argument like a blade. Angelo froze mid-rant, turning to face her. Her pancake plate sat empty on the coffee table, but the way she was glaring at him and his sister said, “ I’ve had enough of this circus.”
Shit. Her blood pressure.
Angelo’s mind immediately switched to panic mode. Allison didn’t need this stress right now, not with the baby. He was seconds away from physically pulling his sister out of the apartment when Katerina opened her mouth to speak again.
“I’m sorry, Allison, but he—”
“No.” Allison raised her hand, cutting Katerina off like a pro. The younger woman’s mouth snapped shut in surprise.
Angelo’s jaw nearly dropped. So. Fucking. Hot.
Allison turned her attention to Katerina, her expression calm and collected, the way she looked when handling a particularly tricky client at work. “Why do you want to stay here, Katia?”
Katerina hesitated, then let out a breath. “I got into a surgical residency program here in Seattle.” Her words were rushed, but they hit Angelo like a truck.
All the anger drained out of him, replaced with a flood of pride. His baby sister. The girl who used to beg him to play “doctor” when they were kids—though he’d always been the “patient”—had made it. All those late-night study sessions, years of hard work, and here she was, about to start her career as a surgeon.
Angelo beamed inside, his heart swelling.
That’s my little sister.
“And until I start getting paid enough to afford rent, I just need a place to crash. I promise it’s only for a few months.”
Angelo’s protective big-brother instincts battled against his need for privacy. Sure, he could put her up in a nice hotel and avoid the whole situation, but… damn it, this was Katerina. His little sister who used to steal his cereal just to annoy him. How could he say no?
But then there was Allison, sitting there, watching the whole thing unfold. He needed her to be comfortable.
If she’s not okay with this, it’s not happening. No matter how much I love my sister.
Before he could come up with a diplomatic solution, Allison spoke again. “Let us show you to your room, then.”
Angelo turned to stone, his mouth falling open as Katerina squealed like a kid who’d just been told she was getting a pony. She leapt off the couch and threw her arms around Allison, practically bouncing with excitement. “Thank you so much! I swear, I’ll repay you somehow. I promise.”
Allison laughed softly, patting Katerina’s back with the grace of someone who’d spent their whole life in a house full of siblings. Angelo’s heart skipped a beat again. She was a natural—breaking up fights, handling difficult conversations, and being the calm center in the storm.
It hit him like a ton of bricks. Allison was already a mother, long before the baby arrived. She had the patience, the compassion, the strength. She was everything he could have hoped for and more.
She’s already part of the family, Angelo realized, watching his sister and Allison hug like they’d known each other for years. She just doesn’t know it yet.
And for the first time that day, he felt like maybe, just maybe, things were going to be okay.
A couple of hours later, Angelo had already reached his limit with Katerina’s endless chatter.
At first, it had been nice. She’d told him about how she applied for the residency in Seattle to be closer to him, and also to finally explore the US. That part had his full attention. But then, she’d launched into a detailed breakdown of some surgery she’d been studying for—something called a pancreaticoduodenectomy. “Seriously, Angie, it’s magnificent to witness,” she’d said with an enthusiasm that seemed to know no bounds.
But his ability to care about pancreatic surgery had evaporated quicker than a puddle in the sun.
To save his last remaining brain cells, he’d suggested Katerina “get comfortable” while he and Allison slipped out for lunch.
In reality, he just wanted a moment alone with Allison. Away from the medical lectures, the whirlwind of family obligations, and his sister’s endless descriptions of the majesty of surgery.
Now they stood at the entrance of La Savoureux , a new French restaurant with rave reviews. Angelo had thought it would be a perfect spot for an unofficial date. Something nice, relaxed—just him and Allison, finally able to focus on each other.
Turns out, he’d miscalculated.
“Angelo Taylor,” he introduced himself to the hostess, his voice gruffer than usual, because the hostess was doing that thing. The thing where she was very obviously ogling him.
The woman, whose name tag read ‘Joanne’ but might as well have read ‘Thirsty,’ was eyeing him like he was the special on the menu.
“Welcome, Mr. Taylor,” she purred in a voice that could curdle milk. Angelo resisted the urge to recoil. Her hair was pulled back into an aggressively tight ponytail, her clothes were so snug they looked painted on, and her smile was all teeth.
He regretted coming here already.
“I’d like a table,” he said, trying to keep his irritation in check.
Joanne didn’t even glance at Allison, who was standing right next to him. As if his hand wasn’t firmly resting on the waist of the most beautiful woman in the entire world.
Yes, the entire world.
“A table for…?” Joanne trailed off, her question hanging in the air like she couldn’t see Allison, who was glowing in a light pink sweater dress that showed off her baby bump—now unmistakable at twenty-four weeks. She looked effortlessly stunning with her hair flowing loose, brushing against his arm every time she shifted.
“For two,” Angelo snapped, his voice sharper than usual. “And hurry. My wife is hungry.”
At the word wife , Joanne finally straightened up, her flirty demeanor vanishing like a popped bubble. She turned on her heel and led them to a secluded corner booth near the back without a word.
Good riddance , Angelo thought as they sat down. He didn’t even bother watching her walk away—he was too busy watching Allison, who was smiling to herself.
He knew that look.
“Your wife, huh?” she teased, arching a brow at him as she adjusted herself in the booth.
Angelo shrugged, pretending it was nothing. “It shut her up, didn’t it?”
Allison laughed softly, her smile warm and bright. “Good thing you clarified. Wouldn’t want her thinking this was a business meeting.”
“Or that I was available.” He gave her a small grin, leaning closer. “Besides, you’re the only woman I want to be seen with.”
He breathed in her sweet scent of honey and lavender, the intoxicating combination strong enough to bring a lesser man to his knees. But Angelo, ever the picture of control—at least on the outside—placed a sweaty palm on the table for support.
Can never be too sure.
One whiff of her and he was already feeling lightheaded. It was amazing, really, how this woman could throw him off balance just by being near him. He could lead board meetings with ease, negotiate deals worth millions without breaking a sweat, but one inhale of Allison, and suddenly he was just a guy trying not to lose his composure.
Her cheeks flushed pink, matching her dress, and Angelo’s heart did a little somersault.
She picked up the menu, but he couldn’t stop staring at her. There was something about the way she looked at him, the way she just was, that made everything else fade into the background.
“You’re staring,” she murmured without looking up, her lips quirking up into a smile.
“Can’t help it,” he replied, utterly sincere. “You’re breathtaking.”
This time she looked up, rolling her eyes playfully. “You’re impossible, you know that?”
“I’m aware,” he said, leaning back in his seat, finally feeling the tension from earlier ease. It didn’t matter how crazy life was. When he was with Allison, everything seemed right.
Now, all they had to do was figure out how to survive Katerina’s extended stay without losing their minds.
But first, lunch. With his future wife.