I wish you were here too, baby.
She hugged the phone close before making herself put it down and reaching over to switch off the light. Despite her weariness, her body was still singing from Luca’s touch and she lay wide-eyed in the darkness, thinking about the evening. Really, she could hardly believe that she’d behaved like that, having sex with a man she barely knew in the middle of the closed shopping mall!
Suddenly, she sat upright in bed, her tired body protesting the sudden movement. “We didn’t use protection!” she gasped aloud, unable to believe it had never even occurred to her. She even had a condom in the zipper pocket of her purse, along with aspirin and lip balm. One of those things every modern girl should carry, just in case. But ‘just in case’ had never even entered her head with Luca. She’d been swept away by the moment, and she rather thought he had too.
At least she was on the Pill, Amy consoled herself as she lay back down. It had been a part of her morning routine for years now, and she never forgot one. Still, she should ask Luca about his sexual history, much though the thought made her blush. And if he really did want to see her again, she should stock up on condoms and ask him to use them.
I hope Luca doesn’t think I’m slutty. Chewing on her lower lip, she stared blankly at the ceiling. She’d lost her head when he said she was beautiful, when he kissed her. She was hardly an innocent, she’d had her share of boyfriends, but never in her life had she been kissed like that.
Of course, it hadn’t stopped at the kiss. She had the pleasurable ache in her groin and thighs to remind her of that, the sensitivity of her nipples pressing against the T-shirt she’d pulled on to sleep in. She could even smell Luca still, a musky, woody sort of scent overlaying the familiar scents of her own body and bed.
Maybe it should have made her feel dirty, made her want to get up and go wash the scent off, take a shower despite the physical exhaustion making her feel as though she couldn’t stand even if she wanted to. It made her ache for more.
“Shut up and go to sleep,” Amy said aloud at last, rolled over and pulled the pillow over her head. It didn’t really help. The image of a tall, darkly handsome man with a slightly crooked smile and heat in his eyes as he gazed down at her just wouldn’t go away.
Chapter Five
Sleeping in on Christmas Day was utter bliss. Amy was expected at her grandparents’ house for lunch, but there was no hurry. She had plenty of time to take a long, leisurely shower, make herself some scrambled eggs and drink three large cups of coffee.
Even after such restorative measures, she still couldn’t quite escape the feeling that the previous night had been nothing but a dream. Only Luca’s text message on her phone provided tangible evidence that the whole thing wasn’t just a figment of her overactive, sex-deprived imagination. She kept picking it up to look at it, wondering if he was still awake after his double shift, if she should text him. It was technically her turn, though she had the feeling that it might appear over-eager if she texted him again so soon.
The chirp of an incoming text message surprised her so much she almost dropped her coffee. A friend, she guessed, wishing her a merry Christmas.
Damn you, you beautiful red-haired siren, I can’t get to sleep thinking of you.
The squeal which emitted from her lips was so high-pitched it was probably only audible to dogs and bats. Amy clapped her hand over her mouth, biting down on her fingers with excitement. Luca was thinking about her, right that moment; not only that but he’d taken the initiative to contact her again.
It took her a good ten minutes to compose a reply, and then she dithered over whether to send it, concerned that he might be asleep and she’d wake him. Finally she pushed the button and made herself go and blow-dry her hair, get dressed and put on a little makeup.
At last, she allowed herself to look and see if he’d responded. She’d sent a cheeky response to his slightly risqué remark: Go to sleep. You’ll need to be well rested when I see you again, followed by a winking emoji.
Luca had indeed texted her back. Promises, promises, you temptress. You free for dinner tomorrow night?
She absolutely was. Working so hard for the last few weeks had cut her social life down to basically zero, and she’d only made the minimum of plans to socialise in the next few weeks. Still, she made herself wait a few minutes before texting back.
Sure. What time?
I finish at six. Send me your address and I’ll pick you up, or would you rather meet me somewhere?
Oh, that was awfully thoughtful of him. Amy smiled at the phone, resisting the urge to dance on the spot as she shrugged on her coat and snagged her keys. She wasn’t worried about Luca knowing where she lived, though. Especially as she had every intention of telling Gramps and Gramma that she’d got a date and who with. Gramps was an observant old coot and had made more than one teasing remark about Luca always hanging around ‘with hearts in his eyes’ during the last couple of weeks.
Not that she was going to tell them everything, of course. Gramma would probably have a stroke. Born and raised in Alabama, she’d always retained her Southern belle manner and was always gently pleading with Amy to be ‘more ladylike’. Which in Gramma’s mind meant wearing a skirt more than once in a blue moon, and definitely not sleeping with men on the first date.
It was hardly as though she made a habit of it, Amy consoled as she locked her door and set off to her car. A thin layer of fresh snow coated the sidewalk, already turning into slush as cars drove over it on the street. She looked up at the sky, wondering if any more would fall. She could always stay over at her grandparents’ house if the weather did turn nasty.
She hadn’t texted Luca back yet. Buckling herself in, her fingers hovered over the smartscreen for a moment before she typed. You can pick me up. I’m at 3D, 647 Westmead Drive.
The message tone pinged as she was driving, but Amy sternly resisted looking until she turned the engine off again, parked safely in the driveway of her grandparents’ beautifully kept bungalow.
6:30 tomorrow, princess. Have a great Christmas Day.
It was probably inevitable that Gramma took one look at the smile on Amy’s face as she entered the house and clapped her hands together with an elegant little shriek of delight.
“Norman! Norman, it’s happened at last! Our darling girl’s fallen in love!”
“Gramma!” Amy protested, laughing even as she pressed a kiss to her grandmother’s powdered, perfumed cheek. “It’s Christmas, and I’m happy to see you, that’s all.”
“Oh, you can’t fool me.” Gramma waggled a slender finger at her, smiling knowingly. “Who is he?”
Amy just shook her head, hanging up her coat and following her grandmother into what in any other home would be called a sitting room or living room, but in this one was only ever called the parlour. Her grandfather looked up to smile broadly at her, blue eyes twinkling behind his round glasses. A plump tabby cat was asleep on his lap.
“I’m afraid I’m trapped,” Gramps said, “but come over here and say merry Christmas, my girl.”
Chuckling, Amy bent to kiss his whiskered cheek and rub her fingertips across the top of the cat’s head. The cat meowed without opening her eyes and began to purr.
“Merry Christmas to you too, Miz Maisie,” Amy said, taking a seat beside her grandfather.
“She’s happy to have my lap back as her regular daybed,” Gramps said. “I enjoyed being Santa, but I’m certainly not sorry it only lasts a few weeks.”
“It was pretty intense, huh?” Amy agreed. “I’m looking forward to a chance to sleep in myself.”
Gramma had bustled off the the kitchen and returned now with a tray, setting it down on the coffee table. She poured hot chocolate for the three of them into delicate china cups, placing a home-made cookie on each saucer before giving the cups to Gramps and Amy.
“Thank you, ma’am,” Amy said very properly. Gramma beamed at her.
“Now, tell us all about your young man.”
“Young man?” Gramps blinked owlishly. “What young man?”
“I knew the moment I saw the smile on her face,” Gramma declared. “Amy’s got a young man!”
“Gramma, will you quit?” But Amy couldn’t suppress the smile, and her grandmother pointed at her with a triumphant cackle.
“Aha! I knew it!”
“And you always tell me it’s rude to point,” Amy chided.
“Don’t you cheek me, young lady. Now, tell me all about it.” Gramma actually rubbed her hands together. “I do love a good romance!”
“Leave her be, Flo,” Gramps said comfortably. “Amy’ll tell us when she’s good and ready. Since I haven’t heard a word about any young man in all the hours I spent with her in the last month, I’m guessing it’s very new.”
Amy shot him a grateful look and nodded. Scratching Miz Maisie’s head, Gramps suddenly paused.
“Wait. Is it that fella from the mall? Did he finally get up the gumption to ask you out?”
Amy knew her blush gave her away. Gramps smirked.
“Told you he liked you. What’s his name again?”
“Luca,” she admitted. “Luca Rossetti.”
“You met him at the mall?” Gramma looked disapproving. “What was he doing there, in the middle of the day?”
“He works there, Gramma. He’s the security manager.”
“Former soldier, unless I miss my guess,” Gramps said. “And a good one, from the way he moves. An officer, I should think.”
“I don’t know about that, Gramps. He was in the Marines, he told me, but I don’t know what rank. He said he did two tours in Afghanistan.”
“Sounds like a fine young man,” Gramma said, “though he must be a bit older than you, Amy. Still, nothing wrong with a man who’s seen the world and decided it’s time to settle down. You must bring him to dinner so we can meet him.”
“Gramma, you know I love you to the moon and back, but I haven’t even been on one date with the man yet,” Amy half-laughed.
“Give her a chance to get him on the hook before you try and net him for her, Flo,” Gramps snickered. “You might scare him off if you start measuring him for his wedding suit too early.”
Amy slipped Gramps the biscuit off her saucer as a thank-you for his support. He winked at her, and she felt a sudden rush of love for her grandfather.
A lot of people thought Amy was an orphan, since she’d lived with her grandparents since she was small, but the truth was that her parents were both alive and well. It was just that they were very rarely actually in the country.
Rory and Michelle Gallagher were top archaeologists, sought-after by museums and foundations to lead digs on sites all over the world. Amy had spent the first few years of her life living in tents on various dig sites, until Gramps intervened and told Rory he thought Amy should be going to school. Her parents agreed to let Amy live with her grandparents full-time in order to give her a more stable upbringing, though she’d spent most of her long holidays on dig sites, which was where she’d honed her photography skills.
Rory and Michelle had tried to convince Amy to join them on their current dig in Morocco for Christmas, but with the mall Santa gig, she’d declined. She could go anytime, now, she wasn’t limited to school holiday times, and though she hadn’t yet booked her flights, she’d intended to go visit in late January or February for a week or two.
Of course, in the modern world being on a different continent and in a different time zone was no barrier to communication. Rory and Michelle had satellite internet connection even on their remote dig site in the Atlas Mountains, and Gramps had recently upgraded the television in the cottage to a big flat screen with a smart connection and even a webcam, so Amy got to talk to her parents face to face regularly.
She had no intention of telling them about Luca yet, and she gave Gramma such a fierce look when she thought Gramma might be turning the conversation in that direction that her grandmother closed her mouth with a snap before changing the subject completely.
It was a lovely Christmas Day. Gifts were exchanged, too much food was eaten and Amy drank a little too much wine, electing at the end of the day to sleep in the bedroom which Gramma always kept immaculately clean instead of driving back to her apartment.
Lying on her side in the narrow single bed, she gazed at the dim shapes of pictures on the wall, knowing in her mind’s eye what they were; photographs she’d taken on digs around the world, mostly candid shots of people rather than the artefact's she’d been supposed to be documenting. Her mother had despaired, at first, and then after seeing the results, encouraged her. Amy had a knack for catching people at their most unguarded and real, and with her parents’ encouragement, had been submitting photos to portrait competitions (and winning) since she was in her early teens.
All she’d ever really wanted was to be a photographer. She’d dated, of course, but none of the men she’d met had really appealed to her as a long-term partner. Perhaps they’d mostly been too young, close to her own age and still in the ‘sowing their wild oats’ phase, whereas Amy, having been largely raised by her grandparents, had a more old-fashioned expectation for relationships.
Last night about this time, I was banging Luca in Santa’s chair in the middle of a shopping mall. Not THAT old-fashioned.
She winced just thinking about it. It was so not her style, and yet… she couldn’t bring herself to regret it. She could still feel it today, as her thigh muscles protested the unaccustomed exercise, her nipples tender inside her bra, lips swollen and sensitive.
With a groan, Amy grabbed her pillow and dragged it over her head. She was never going to get to sleep if her brain insisted on replaying with perfect clarity every intimate detail of last night.
“Tomorrow,” she mumbled into the pillow. “Tomorrow, I’m seeing Luca again, and I don’t want to be red-eyed from lack of sleep!”
Chapter Six
Less than a mile away from where Amy lay wakeful, Luca was just walking home under the stars. After finishing work that morning, he’d headed home for a few hours’ rest before walking across to his sister’s house a couple of streets away. The whole Rossetti clan were gathered there for Christmas, and he was welcomed into their midst with open arms.
“So where are my grand babies, Luca?” his mother asked with a twinkle in her eye.
“All around you, Mama,” he retorted quickly. “You have eleven already!” From Christina, a sulky fourteen-year-old just maturing into a spectacular beauty, to Stefano, not yet one and just learning to walk, they were all doted on and thoroughly spoiled by his mother. They were the children of his three sisters, though, and as the only son Luca did feel a certain pressure to carry on the family name. He was just adamant that it would be with the right woman.
Was Amy Gallagher the one, he wondered? She wasn’t of Italian descent, which would be a black mark against her from his mother’s point of view, not that Luca cared. He wasn’t sure, though, if she was the settling-down kind. He hadn’t asked, but he doubted she’d seen her twenty-fifth birthday yet, which meant he was close to a decade her senior. Maybe she wasn’t even in the market for a serious relationship, had just been using him to scratch an itch.
Morose at the thought, he sipped on a glass of wine as he helped his eldest sister’s six-year-old twins build a spectacular spaceship kit. Not that they needed a great deal of help beyond applying the occasional sticker on straight, but at least he felt useful.
“Top you up there, little bro?” His sister Giulia paused behind him, ruffling his hair affectionately.
“I’m good, thanks. If I have any more I’ll get all maudlin or start singing or something.” He smiled up at her, and she paused, took a seat at the table beside him, glancing fondly at her twins, putting the finishing touches on their spaceship.
“What have you got to get maudlin about? You have a great life. Good job, nice house, you’ve even nearly paid off that mortgage, Mom told me. Don’t tell me you’re missing military life!�
�
“Hell, no.” Luca shook his head. “I miss the camaraderie, occasionally, and then my brain kicks in and reminds me about all the things I don’t miss. Getting my ass shot at in sandy hellholes, for one. Missing Christmas lunch with the family more years than not.”
“It’s good to have you here.” Giulia leaned in to give him a one-armed hug around the shoulders. “I just don’t like to see you with a long face. Is it a woman, then, who has you down in the dumps?”
Luca shook his head at her. “If it was, I wouldn’t dare tell you. You and Mom would have the church booked in a heartbeat.”
“Maaaaybe.” Giulia drew out the word before laughing. “Alright, I won’t push you. Except to ask, did you call to wish her a Merry Christmas?”
“Texted,” he admitted. “She’s spending the day with family. I didn’t want to interrupt.”
“Well, at least you didn’t ignore her entirely. Maybe you’re not entirely clueless about women.” Giulia kissed his cheek. “Bring her to meet me sometime, little brother. I won’t bite. Promise.”
Luca smiled affectionately back at her. “Maybe sometime. Once I’m sure she’s the one.”
“If she’s the right one, she’ll be far too much in love with you to let us scare her off anyway,” Giulia pointed out.
“Too early to know.” He raised his glass to her. “But when - if - I do, you’ll be the first to know.”
“Uncle Luca, Uncle Luca, look!” A spaceship was shoved in front of him, and he set his glass down, preparing to make suitably impressed noises for his nephews.
Amy would fit right in, he thought, looking around the family room. She’d be on her knees with his nieces, arranging furniture in their new doll house, or discussing the best family Christmas movies with his cousins, or humming the theme to Star Wars as she zoomed the spaceship over his nephews’ heads. He’d seen her interacting with overexcited kids and tired, stressed adults for weeks; she’d never failed to be cheerful and smiling, an island of calm in the hurricane which was Christmastime in a busy shopping mall.
Whispers of Winter: A Limited Edition Collection of Winter Romances Page 14