Fighting for Us - Bella Emy Page 0,25

guy who tries anything with my baby.

Marianna cuts in before I have a chance to speak. “Yeah, and you’ll be standing right next to Enz with Dad, and the three of you will be holding rifles, scaring off those poor boys.”

“Ain’t that the truth,” Mom says, giggling.

Marianna nods. “Ma and I will be desperately trying to calm her down. She’s got an old-school Italian grandpa, a crazy uncle, and an ill-tempered daddy who are going to embarrass her on more than one occasion, I’m sure.”

“It’s in her best interest that people know not to break her heart,” I say.

“Break her heart, or even look at her?” Max asks.

I smirk. “They’d better not look at her.”

“And that’s the truth,” Mom says, laughing again as she takes a seat to my dad’s right.

Gianna tugs on my sleeve. “Daddy, what are you guys talking about?”

I smile down at my baby girl who’s oblivious to it all, and I’m so thankful for that right now. “Nothing, sweetheart. Eat up. We have to get going soon. You have school tomorrow.”

“K,” she answers and stabs a potato with her fork. Moments later, she tugs on my sleeve again.

“Yes, princess?”

“Can we get a mistletoe?”

My eyebrows narrow. “Mistletoe?”

“Yes! We decorated some at school on Friday. Please, Daddy! Can we?”

Max’s laughter causes me to look at him once more. “Mistletoe means kisses. It’s starting, bro. Like I said, Mother Nature will soon take its course. Payback, Enz. Payback.” He makes a kissing face at me.

I scowl.

Marianna intervenes. “Payback for who, Bozo? I already told you, you’re going to be feeling it too, the day she gets boys calling her. It’s going to be payback for all three of the Trevano men,” Marianna says.

I laugh. Marianna’s got a point. When that dreaded day comes, the three of us are going to be standing right behind my little girl, making sure there’s no funny business. Those boys will think twice before they try anything.

I lean down and place a kiss on my baby’s head. “Yes, sweetheart. We can get a mistletoe for our house.”

After Gianna and I get home, I give her a bath and tuck her into bed. She’s out after fifteen minutes of me reading her favorite fairytale to her: Snow White.

I leave the door to her room cracked open and walk out into the living room. I contemplate jogging off all the food I ate at Mom’s on the treadmill, but I don’t think I can right now. I’d probably vomit. I decide to hit the sack instead and watch TV until I pass out. I hate being lazy, but I don’t want to get sick.

I strip out of my clothes and change into a plain white T-shirt and a pair of plaid pajama pants. I climb into bed, lying on top of my comforter. If my mother could see me, she’d yell at me right now, saying I’ll mess up the quilt. She has a thing about comforters. I always thought they were meant to be used any way to be comfortable, hence the word comfort in them, but Mom seems to believe something else. I chuckle to myself and flip through some channels.

Once I feel myself start to doze off, I climb out of bed and remove my shirt. That alarm is going to sound before I know it, so I’d better try to get some sleep. I toss the pants to the side, so they land on the chair to the right of my bed, and pull the covers down.

Climbing back into bed, I find a comfortable position. Then I set the TV on a timer to turn off, and I close my eyes.

Tonight’s dinner conversation plays over in my mind. My brother is hilarious. If he thinks Gianna’s growing up is not going to have any effect on him, he’s got another thing coming. I remember the way he was so sure of himself when he moved the container of parmesan cheese—

Cheese.

Cream cheese.

Carissa… Luscious Lips.

No, I have to stop associating that phrase with her whenever I think about her. I know her name now, so no more calling her Luscious Lips, or Lushy, or anything of the sort.

What the hell am I saying, whenever I think about her? I need to stop thinking about her right now.

Damn, I was so close to not thinking about her all day. I kept my mind preoccupied the whole time so I wouldn’t have to think about our little chance encounter at the supermarket the other night, but