make Marc wonder if the whole tattoo rumor was just that—a rumor.
“Francesca,” Nate stuttered. The assured, never-show-emotion, ever-so-logical brother actually had to snap his jaw shut and wipe off the drool. “You look great.”
Frankie bent her knees enough to meet Nate’s eyes, which were currently glued to her chest. “They’re called boobs, Nathaniel. They come with being a woman.”
Nate looked up and flashed a rare smile. “I know what they are. I’ve just never seen yours before.”
Marc had to pause. He wasn’t sure if Nate was flirting or sparring.
Either way, Frankie’s eyes went hard and her lips thinned. “Just tell me where I have to sit or I’m gone.”
“At the front table,” Marc said.
“See, the dumb-ass was right,” Gabe said, walking through the crowd and resting a hand on Frankie’s elbow. “Would you like me to escort you there?”
Frankie blinked. And took a step back, as though thrown by the gesture. “If you’re being nice because of the dumb-ass comment, I’m sorry. It’s the DeLuca hair and eyes. They’re so dark I just assume they’re full of shit.” Her eyes narrowed and darted around the room. “And if you’re offering because your wife made you, tell her I’ve been walking since I was seven months old, so bite me. Oh”—she looked at Marc—“you have ten minutes to start the tasting, because I’m thirsty.”
Nate’s eyes zeroed in on Frankie’s ass and didn’t let up until she had disappeared into the crowd.
Trey whistled. “Definitely worth the risk of castration.”
“Shut up,” all three of his brothers said in unison.
Gabe gave him a long look and placed a hand on Marc’s shoulder. “You got the papers?”
“All ready to go.” Marc patted his breast pocket, and the contract his assistant, Chrissi, had delivered to him earlier in the evening. “Are you guys sure? There’s a lot riding on this. If it goes bad, it’s going to go really bad.”
It was the only thing Jeff had been right about. The play they were about to make was bold and risky and all Marc’s idea. He was willing to risk everything if it meant making things right, but he didn’t want his brothers to suffer if his plan imploded.
“You believe in this?” Trey asked.
“Hell yes,” Marc said. It was the best idea he’d had in ages. It was how his father would have handled this situation. And that made Marc feel confident in moving forward. “But it has just as much chance of succeeding as it does of falling apart.”
“Will there be another girl?” Gabe asked.
Not like Lexi, Marc thought, shaking his head.
“Well, there’ll be other companies.” Gabe clapped him on the back, and they headed toward Monte’s table a united front, DeLuca dialed to high and badass brothers cranked up to one hundred proof.
“Plus, we’re Italian,” Trey said as they passed the front table and made their way around the ballroom.
“Meaning what?” Marc asked. “We’re leaving the gun and taking the cannoli?”
“No,” Gabe said. “Meaning you don’t fuck with our family, our wine, or our women.”
By the time dessert rolled around, Lexi had avocado mousse dried to her left butt cheek, choux pastry permanently attached to her scalp, and enough ganache on her jacket to pass for a chocolate bunny. She also had a heartache the size of Montana and a hangover that made oxygen toxic.
Arranging the chocolate curls on the last plate of cream puffs and éclairs, Lexi picked up the tray and gave herself a gold star for the day. She’d decorated the ballroom, prepared a three-course meal for over a thousand, and managed to avoid Marc for most of the evening. The first two she’d managed with the help of her grannies and Marc’s kitchen staff. The last she’d managed all on her own.
Seeing him after his morning run in the lobby had been hard enough, and knowing that as head chef she had to deliver the desserts to the head table made her stomach drop painfully to her toes. But she had to do it. It was the reason she had swallowed the hurt and started prepping the minute Abby had dropped her off at home last night—drenched and naked and ready to take control of her life.
The town was counting on her, Pricilla was counting on her, and she was counting on herself. It was time to grow up and start living the life she’d dreamed of. Even if that dream life didn’t include Marc.
Lexi dusted the hair out of her face, and after shoving a miniéclair in her mouth for