The Woman at the Docks - Jessica Gadziala Page 0,83

reaching for his hand crushing it between both of mine.

"Hey you," I said, feeling the tears fill my eyes again.

"How's your arm?"

"Oh my God. You were shot like five times and you're asking about my arm?"

To that, his lips twitched again.

"I heard you've been giving everyone hell."

"Each and every one of them deserved it," I informed him with a nod. "Except for that nurse. I feel bad about that. I have to send her a muffin basket and a note. Something along the lines of 'Sorry for threatening you with a mob hit, I was just scared.' That should do it."

"Don't make me laugh," he demanded, starting to, then wincing.

"Sorry. It's been a heavy night. It's nice to have a little laugh. Even if it hurts."

"I'm sorry I wasn't there."

"Yeah, what the hell, Luca? How dare you get shot and need surgery and leave me surrounded by your people? You inconsiderate ass," I teased, getting another chuckle and wince. "Hey Luca?" I said a moment later.

"Yeah, sweetheart?"

"You were right."

"About what?"

"Right before you passed out. You said I was the right woman. I am. I'm the right woman. We can do this."

His eyes were warm, smile sweet as his hand squeezed mine.

"Yeah, we can."

And so we did.

Epilogue

Romy

"That's a lot of cars," I observed as we pulled down the street leading to his Aunt Adrian's house.

"It's a big family," he reminded me, giving me flashbacks to the night at the hospital after I dipped out to get changed, get some food, coming back to learn he'd had visits from twenty people.

I didn't even know twenty people, let alone well enough for them to visit me in the hospital.

He'd tried to explain the family tree to me as we ate the baked ziti his aunt had dropped off, but my head started spinning, all the stories molding together into one giant blur.

I thought I would be better learning on the fly with faces to go with names.

But seeing all the cars filled me with a nervousness I hadn't expected.

They were his family, after all.

They would be judging me.

They would never admit to that, but they would.

And, sure, I had gotten the stamp of approval from Antony and Matteo, from Lucky and Dario and Michael. But they were a small percentage of the people I would now need to impress seeing as Luca and I were official.

It had been a long couple of days of stress after he came home, constantly worrying I was going to bump one of his injuries, or would screw up redressing them, even though I had made the nurses show me three times just to be sure I knew what I was doing.

We had drop-ins only for a short couple of minutes, his father and him talking in hushed tones on the balcony, Lucky dropping off supplies, Matteo bringing over leftovers from the latest wedding or anniversary party at his party venue.

Mostly, though, they gave us privacy, they gave Luca space to recover, to lay about without feeling guilty. As it was, I was struggling to keep him out of a suit on the daily, I didn't need constant drop-ins that would make him want to be put together.

But it had been almost four full weeks.

Stitches were out for both of us.

And while Luca was still favoring his side where most of the bullets had struck, he was nearly back to normal.

Which meant we had no good excuse when his aunt had called to insist on a big family dinner to celebrate his recovery.

And to size me up.

She didn't say that, but it was one of those things everyone just knew.

Lucky had even sent me a text telling me that his mom would be impressed if I brought a dish.

So I dragged myself out of bed at four a.m. to slave away at a meal, trying to make sure I got it perfect, wanting everyone to like it.

It wasn't going to match their typical Italian cuisine, but it was my contribution. A little bit of me mixed in with all of them. I thought it was poetic in a way. Even if I was worried about how well the food was traveling in the cooler in the trunk.

"Are you sure I'm not overdressed?" I asked, looking down at my red with white polka dot slacks, my kitten heels, my white silk tank top.

"Romy," he said, waving a hand at his body, covered in a suit like always.

As much as I had loved seeing him relaxed and resting in sweats