Waking Up to You Overexposed - By Leslie Kelly Page 0,110
going to look at a cannoli the same way again.
But she hadn’t invited him in. Hadn’t answered him when he’d asked if she wanted to go get a bite to eat somewhere. And over the next couple of days, hadn’t returned his calls. Hadn’t even met his eye in the past couple of days.
The woman was killing him, she really was.
When he’d finally confronted her on the sidewalk in front of the bakery Friday afternoon, she’d erupted. “It was a one-time thing, Nick. It was fabulous, I loved it, but it’s not going to happen again. Because if it does, then you’re going to be more of a pain about wanting me to go get a pizza with you, or go visit the folks, and then the whole neighborhood will be congratulating poor little Izzie for finally landing her man.”
She’d stalked inside without saying another word. She hadn’t needed to. He got the message, loud and clear. She’d loved the sex, she just didn’t want all the stuff that went with having a sexual relationship. Or any relationship whatsoever.
He thought about proposing that they just set up a weekly sex-buddy meeting in the parked van behind her shop, suspecting he could have her on those terms if he wanted her.
He didn’t want her on those terms.
“Hell, admit it, you want her on any terms,” he muttered aloud as he walked out the back door of Santori’s that night. He hadn’t even realized anyone else was there until he saw his brother Joe, who’d just parked his pickup in one of the empty spots in the alley. Fortunately, Joe hadn’t heard Nick talking to himself and so wasn’t dialing for the rubber-walled wagon.
“Hey, where you off to?” Joe asked as he hopped out and pocketed his keys. “I was going to take you up on that pitcher you owe me.”
“I’m not very good company right now,” he admitted.
Joe, who was the best-natured of all of the Santori kids, threw his arm around Nick’s shoulders. “Then what better time to share a beer with your brother?”
He had a point.
“Okay. But not here,” he said, looking back at the closed door to the kitchen. “I really need someplace quiet.”
Joe’s smile faded and he immediately appeared concerned. “Everything okay? Is there a problem?”
“No problem. Just a case of family overdose.”
“I hear ya. Come on, let’s go across the street.”
Following Joe into a neighborhood bar on the corner, Nick ordered a couple of beers and paid the tab. If Mark had been sitting across from him, Nick knew he’d be getting one-liners aimed at making him say what was on his mind. Lucas would be doing his prosecutor inquisition. Tony would throw his oldest-brother weight around and try to browbeat him into talking. Lottie would jabber so much Nick would say anything to get her to shut up.
Joe just watched. Listened. Waited.
“Thanks again for pointing me toward the job,” Nick finally said, filling the silence. The bar was pretty empty—it was too early for the weekend regulars, who’d be drifting in for a long night of drinking and darts before too long.
“How’s that going?”
“Pretty well. I’ve only worked the past two weekends but the money’s good.”
“You still haven’t told the rest of the family?”
Nick shook his head. “Just Mark.”
Joe nodded. “Probably just as well. I know Pop and Tony are talking nonstop about you coming in on the business.”
Yeah, they had been to him, too. Nick couldn’t prevent a quick frown. Because managing a pizzeria was not the way he saw himself spending the next six months, much less the rest of his life.
“It’s okay, Nick. Nobody can force you to do anything you don’t want to do.”
“Guilt goes a long way,” he muttered.
“Don’t I know it. But guilt didn’t stop you from enlisting. It didn’t stop me from picking up a hammer and learning construction. Didn’t stop Mark from strapping on a gun or Lottie from...well, from doing whatever it is Lottie does.”
“Like marrying a man who killed someone?” Nick asked drily, still not having gotten used to the idea that his new brother-in-law, Simon, had killed a woman, even if in self-defense.
“Let’s not go there,” Joe said with a sigh. “She’s happy, and he’s crazy about her.”
True. Lottie and Simon’s recent marriage had contributed to the 95 percent marital success rate in the Santori family.
“The point is, you can live your life the way you want to live it, and nobody will try to stop you.” As if realizing he’d left Nick with