Chapter Twenty-Five
James reached out to find the space beside him empty.
The light seeping in from the window suggested the sun had yet to crest the horizon.
Stretching his legs in one direction, his arms in the other, James rolled out of bed to find Mari.
He paused in the hall when he found her.
She sat on the couch where he’d made love to her the night before. Curled up in a blanket with a cup of coffee in her hand, she stared out the window over the lake.
Lost in her thoughts and completely oblivious to the fact that he was watching her, James allowed himself to stare his fill.
She was so much more than he expected. He’d been prepared for a few ounces of doubt or maybe insecurities when they finally gave in to the mutual attraction that had been brewing for weeks.
But that didn’t happen. What she called rusty, he thought was unabashed.
Learning what a new lover wanted and responded to took time.
Yet that wasn’t how the previous evening had gone.
They’d rested on the sofa, Mari in the crook of his arm as they watched the fire burn.
They spoke of how sex all by itself seemed to get better with age.
James liked to think that was more about the partner than age.
They’d dozed on the couch before finally making it to bed.
Mari had stirred at least once during the night, waking him.
James pulled her close, silently laying claim.
It had been a long time since he’d slept beside a woman, even longer for her.
But they fell together like magnets, enjoying the safety of another person.
Eventually, they succumbed to the abyss of dreams, and now James watched Mari taking her time to start her day.
“Good morning,” he finally said, letting her know that he was in the room.
Mari smiled over her shoulder, their eyes catching. “Buongiorno.”
James reduced the space between them and leaned down. “I know that one,” he said right before he pressed his lips to hers for a brief kiss.
“I made coffee.”
“Thank you.”
“It’s not good.”
He crossed to the kitchen and pulled a cup off the open rack. “As long as it does the job.”
“That may be debatable.”
He poured himself a cup. “How did you sleep?”
“Surprisingly well.”
One sip and James knew what Mari was referring to. The coffee was stale. Not overly strong, just awful.
“Why surprising?”
“Outside of the occasional visit from Franny, I haven’t slept in a bed with another person for ten years.”
James sat on the other end of the couch. “Do you miss it? Sleeping beside someone?”
“It’s going to take more than one night to answer that.”
He took another sip of the awful coffee. “I volunteer as test subject.”
A playful nudge of her foot against his thigh made him smile.
He placed a hand on her leg and left it there.
“I do miss this.”
James raised his eyebrows in question.
“This,” she repeated. “The quiet moments. The freedom of a morning kiss or sitting on the sofa in a bathrobe.” She looked at his hand. “Touch.”
He ran his hand along her leg. “Being around you and not touching is torture.”
Her cheeks flushed, and Mari lowered her gaze. “We wouldn’t want that.”
James went to tip his cup to his lips and frowned. “This is awful . . . I can’t.”
Mari lowered her cup so he could see how little she’d drunk. “I gave up a half an hour ago.”
He reached for her cup and put both of them down on the coffee table. “We can’t have you uncaffeinated.”
James pulled her to her feet.
“Why is that?”
He wrapped his hand around her waist and pulled her close. “Because I have plans for you. Plans that require you to be awake.”
Watching a grown woman blush never got old.
It was one thing to have her family watching her with a hundred questions in their eyes. But quite another to have her employees avoid her with the same look.
Parts of Little Italy took a while to wake up on Sunday mornings. Many restaurants, like D’Angelo’s, were open for only lunch and dinner. The popular breakfast places, the kind that trended on social media, were isolated in the piazza.
When James brought her home on Sunday, the opening staff members were there to watch them as James brought her luggage up to her apartment. But guests had yet to arrive for lunch.
Neither Luca nor Brooke made an appearance during James’s brief visit when dropping her off. There was no telling if they’d even seen them drive up.
It was Sunday. Giovanni and Emma were due to drive down for dinner. Chloe and Dante were supposed to be out of town, but a text late the night before said they were coming to dinner. Then there was Rosa. Salena and Ryan . . . And of course, Luca, Brooke, and her grandchildren.
Everyone.
Mari knew this wasn’t by accident.
With her head high, Mari made her rounds in the restaurant. The kitchen was fully staffed for the day. No one had called in for the waitstaff, bartender, or help in the back.
Not one employee asked about her weekend. Or about James.
But Mari wasn’t born yesterday, and her dating anyone was news. With news came questions.
Up in her apartment, Mari settled in to prepare her family a meal.
With her hair back and apron on, she piled flour on her kitchen island and cracked the eggs inside the crater she’d created. While she mixed what would become the pasta dish for the night, she thought of the times she and Paulo would share this part of Sundays over that very island.
Paulo liked efficiency. Getting the job done. And Mari enjoyed the process. The kneading of the dough, the twist and turn. They didn’t make the decision on the shape of the noodle or whether it would be ravioli until they looked at the ball of unformed dough and it told them what it wanted to be.
Linguini, she decided.
Next week, she’d shoot for ravioli.
Next week, when James and the girls were coming.
She’d field the questions about her relationship on her own, before her loud and passionate family got involved.
Mari was hanging up the pasta to dry when she heard the coos of her grandson.
Brooke peeked in through the open door of her apartment with Leo in her arms.
“I thought I heard you,” Brooke said when she saw her.
Mari pulled the apron from her waist and reached for Leo. “Where’s my boy?”
Leo all but lunged out of Brooke’s arms and into hers. With a fist in his mouth and drool absolutely everywhere.
After pressing kisses all over Leo’s cheeks and letting his wet hand smear over her face, Mari smiled at her daughter-in-law and motioned her toward the living room. “How are you?”
“Good. I think he’s bringing in a new tooth. We’re not getting a lot of sleep.”
They both took a seat on the sofa, Mari bounced Leo on her knee.
“Maybe you need to sleep with Nonna tonight. Would you like that?” Mari asked in a high-pitched tone reserved for when an adult spoke to a child that didn’t understand what was being said.
“That wasn’t a hint,” Brooke told her.
“The offer still stands.”
“I’ll let you know.”
With one eye on Leo, the other on Brooke, Mari glanced toward the ceiling. “How is my son?”
Brooke sat back, took a deep breath. “It’s been an interesting weekend.”
“I can imagine.”
“The phone hasn’t stopped ringing. Luca gets off the phone with Gio, then Dante would report in with what he learned from Rosa. Then Chloe would call me or do a group chat with Emma. Salena has handled the employee gossip.”
“What is being said?”
Brooke hesitated. “They’re concerned.”
“There is no need. James is a good man. And I’m not a young woman easily influenced for the wrong reasons.”
“We’ve told them that. Chloe, Emma, and I. It might be a good idea to introduce him to the family sooner than later.”
Leo scrambled to get off Mari’s lap.
She set him down, and he headed straight to a basket filled with toys that lived in her home.
“He and the girls will be here next Sunday.”
Brooke smiled. “Perfect.”
“Luca should have put his brother at ease. Unless there was something that he didn’t like when I introduced them before we left on Friday.”
She could tell by Brooke’s hesitation that there was something.
“Brooke?”
“What can I say? He’s not Paulo. Luca told me more about his father in the last two days than I’ve heard since we met.”
Mari glanced over to watch Leo pull a colorful plastic toy into his lap and start to pound on it with wet hands.
“I can’t replace Paulo. James is not that.”
Brooke sat forward and placed a hand on Mari’s knee. “Luca and Gio will get used to this. The rest of us are already there. Chloe searched the internet to get information on him and as many pictures as she could.”
“How much could she have possibly learned?”
Brooke tossed her head back and laughed. “If you were actively dating when you met him, you’d know how deep you can dig with a few strokes of a keyboard.”
“What did you learn?”
Leo switched toys. This time, the sound of a train saying “Choo choo” filled the room.
“He has a successful business and doesn’t seem to have made any enemies. He had his picture taken with the mayor two years ago at a tape-cutting ceremony when they started the airport renovation.”
“James is a part of that?” Mari had no idea.
“Apparently. Chloe did a background check. No criminal record.”
Mari clicked her tongue. “How did she . . . why . . .”
“After Eric?”
Brooke didn’t have to say any more. Eric was the online match that ended up stalking and assaulting Chloe. “Oh.”
“That was a topic of discussion for half a day. It took Rosa to calm that panic, or you might have had company on the mountain.”
Mari leaned back, shook her head. “I can understand some of that concern. But James is a good man. An honorable man.”
A small smile took form on Brooke’s lips. “What’s he like?”
Mari felt her cheeks warm. “He’s thoughtful, considerate. Loves his girls. When I had to sleep in his cabin on the ship, he was a complete gentleman.”
“You slept in his cabin?”
Oh, yeah, Mari hadn’t shared that part of the cruise with the family.
“Maybe the boys don’t need to know about this quite yet.”
“Good thing I’m not a boy,” Brooke said.