Hate to Date You (Dating #4) - Monica Murphy Page 0,56
herself at me, and I have no choice but to hug her back. Which is a huge mistake, considering how good she feels nestled against me. I give her a quick squeeze and carefully set her away from my body, trying to stay neutral. Friendly. The three most important men in her life are watching us like hawks.
Nerve wracking as fuck, let me tell you.
“I talked with a couple of contractor friends,” Michael tells me as we all settle onto the couches, Stella returning to the kitchen to help her mother. “They said they’d be willing to meet with us sometime next week at Nonna’s house so they can assess it.”
“Next week?” I lean forward, resting my elbows on my knees as I contemplate Michael and Tony, who are sitting directly across from me. “Have you spoken to your grandmother yet? Does she know your plans?”
They both say no, and Lorenzo makes a tsking noise. “She’ll be angry,” he says, shaking his head. “You know she doesn’t like spontaneous visits.”
“She’s coming today, isn’t she?” Tony asks.
“Of course she is. She never misses a Sunday dinner,” Lorenzo retorts.
The conversation continues, and once the three men start arguing over a bad play called during the basketball game that’s still on the TV, I tune out. I don’t give a shit about the NBA. All I can focus on is Stella’s reaction when I said I got a job. How pleased she’d looked, that beautiful smile on her face. How she hugged me, and how I could feel every single curve pressed against my body.
It’s getting harder and harder—literally—to pretend that she doesn’t affect me. The more time I spend with her, talk with her, hang out with her, the more I want her. And not just for sex, either. I actually enjoy her company. I enjoy everything about her.
Glancing over my shoulder, I catch her stirring something in a pan on the stove, a little smile teasing the corners of her lips as she responds to her mother. She lifts her head as if she can sense me watching her, her gaze snagging on mine, and I smile at her. She offers up a sweet smile in return, then ducks her head, her lips pressed together. Her expression reads like she has a secret, and I wonder what it could be.
Wonder if it involves me.
I return my attention to the still-arguing Ricci men, keeping quiet as they throw hand gestures and curse each other out good-naturedly. While I can tell this is a family who genuinely loves one another, this is also a very traditional household. I couldn’t help but notice how easily they dismissed Stella from their conversation earlier. Hell, they dismissed her from the entire room. Stella’s expected to stay in the kitchen and help her mother. I’m thinking that, in their opinion, it’s what good Italian women do.
I imagine if I dismissed Stella from a conversation we were both involved in with her father and brothers, she’d knee me in the balls and then sock me in the face for good measure. She is more than the little woman taking care of business in the kitchen.
So much more, at least to me.
Now, I just need to figure out a way to tell her that.
Twenty
Stella
“Did you have fun?” I ask.
Carter glances over at me, offering a quick smile before he returns his attention to the road. It started to rain right before we left my parents’ house, and the roads are slick. “Your mother is an excellent cook.”
Notice how he didn’t answer my question. “I’m sure she appreciated you telling her that throughout dinner.”
He went on and on about my mother’s cooking, to the point that I think she was getting embarrassed. I don’t think he was saying it to suck up to her either. He was genuinely impressed and thrilled to have a homemade pasta dinner.
Makes me wonder if his mom didn’t cook much for them growing up. Caroline has said a few things throughout the years, and I get the sense that their mom wasn’t the greatest. And though my family can make me feel like I’m suffocating most of the time, at least I know that they love me and will always be there for me when I need them.
“I don’t get homecooked meals too often,” Carter admits. “I’m not much of a cook myself, and why should I have to, when I can go out or have food delivered to me.”