is going on in my own house,” he said. “I know every move you make.” He reached out and touched my chin.
“I am not your house,” I said.
“Yeah,” he said. “You are. You’re my home. I know everything that happens inside and outside of it—at all times.” He reached out and slid me toward him. When we connected, it had the same effect as a pump between a body and a heart.
My hands fisted in his hair, and I wanted to yank it out by the roots, while his mouth did things to mine that caused me to moan.
This. This was what happened when he finally let the glove go and we came together. Perfezione completa.
Complete perfection.
“It’s time to play a game of Italian Roulette,” he said, his mouth roaming from my lips, to my chin, to my throat, then to the pulse in my neck. He sucked so hard I knew it was going to leave a mark. “I’m going to bury my cock in you so fucking deep that there’s no way you won’t get pregnant again.”
I hissed when his mouth moved lower and he kept sucking. He sucked all the way down to my breasts, and through the shirt, the heat from his mouth burned through.
A knock came at the trunk. I stilled. Corrado bit my nipple and then grinned. He sat up and fixed himself before Brooklyn came to my side of the car.
The window was down, and she sniffed before she wiped her red eyes. “We need to talk to you both.”
“We?” Corrado said.
She nodded. “Nunzio and me.”
“Meet us inside,” Corrado said.
She nodded, and when she got close to the front door, Nunzio met her, putting his hand on her lower back.
“Where did he come from?” I said.
He grinned, probably at the confused look on my face. “He was driving her car.”
Corrado got out first and then came to open my door. We walked into the house hand in hand, meeting Brooklyn and Nunzio in the kitchen. He stood with his back against the counter. She sat at the table, her head in her hands.
From the window behind Nunzio, I could see Anna holding Eleonora, and Fabrizio making faces at her. Mamma sat on the bench, crocheting, smiling, while she listened to them laugh. It sent a strong longing through me, to see them that way, so carefree with her, but I ignored it.
“What is going on?” I said, looking at Brooklyn instead.
“We got married!” she blurted. “I told my mom and she pulled a knife on Nunzio and he’s bleeding and then she was screaming and…Oh God! I don’t know what to do.”
I looked at Nunzio and noticed for the first time that he had blood dripping down his arm.
He shrugged.
“You’re old enough,” Corrado said to Brooklyn. “You can marry whoever you want.”
She looked up at him, her eyes red, her nose swollen, tears flowing down her cheeks. “But she’s my mom, and I love her, too. I want her to accept him, to accept us.”
“Did you try talking to her?” I asked Nunzio.
He lifted his arm to show me. Even though I knew he meant he had tried, I still wondered…I couldn’t remember a time when he had spoken to me casually.
“Talking is not going to change her mind,” Corrado said, looking at Nunzio. “It’s going to take time.”
“How did this happen?” I said, sitting down next to Brooklyn and taking her hand. I moved the hair from her face, trying to dry some of her tears.
“I told you I liked Nunzio. I actually love him, but I was too ashamed to admit it. I mean, who falls in love with the first guy they really like? It’s like picking the first wedding dress you try on. How often does that happen?” She sniffed. “Then my mom…she wanted me to like the chef. The night I went out on a date with him, Nunzio showed up at my apartment after I got home. He told me how he felt. He told me that if I didn’t marry him, he was going to kill Michele.”
Corrado narrowed his eyes at Nunzio. For the first time, I saw something on Nunzio’s face that I never had before. Not shame, but something close to it. I did not think it was for what he had done, though, but for something else.
“You forced her into it!” I shouted.
Nunzio shook his head. “Explain better,” he said to his wife.
She waved a hand. “I mean, that came after a few