Smoke: The Carelli Family Saga, Book One

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Smoke: The Carelli Family Saga, Book One Page 9

by Eden Butler


  From the look she gave me, from the way she held my hand, squeezing it back, I got that she’d understood my small explanation. She shot a look across the room, her gaze sharp, full of something that made my chest hurt when she snagged Luca’s attention and they held each other’s stare. I knew then she understood me probably better than anyone.

  “You have to decide, Maggie, if it’s worth the risk,” she said, nodding as she moved her gaze from that handsome man still talking to her brothers and back to me. “My brother is an idiot.” I tilted my head, my mouth hurting from the frown, but Toni held up a hand, silencing anything I might say. “He’s an idiot who really seems to love you and your son.”

  I hated the sadness in her expression, though I didn’t think it had anything to do with me and Smoke. Toni had been kept away from the man she loved by circumstance, by stupid promises she told me Luca made to her brother, though she’d never told me everything. She never told me why they still weren’t together.

  “Toni,” I said, knowing it wasn’t my place, knowing she likely wouldn’t tell me everything, but thinking she might need a friend, “what happened with you and Luca? What…did Smoke do to get between you?”

  There was a pause, a moment’s hesitation that Toni took as she watched me—like she wanted to say everything and nothing all at the same time. Then, I reached for her, touching her hand. “Tell me to mind my own business if…”

  “It’s not that.” She looked over the crowd, her features tensing. “Smoke, he’s made a lot of bad decisions but sometimes they were for the right reasons.”

  “Like keeping you and Luca apart?”

  “Yeah,” she said, squeezing my hand. “I don’t want you to think any less of him if I tell you what happened. It was…a long time ago and I wasn’t…easy back then.” When I shifted my eyebrow up, Toni grinned, laughing at my expression. “I was even worse then.”

  “Impossible.”

  She shrugged, pressing her lips together before she exhaled. “Luca was like a brother to Smoke. Trained him in college. He trained most of the boxers at the gym where they worked out. He’d even been close to going pro when he was younger, but he’d made some bad decisions, ended up doing time.” Toni picked at a napkin on the bar top, looking away, eyes unblinking, her lineless skin glowing under the soft light overhead. “But Smoke loved him. We…all did. Me especially.”

  She glanced at me, eyes glossy and wet, like what she wanted me to see, she wouldn’t hide, and I could see plainly everything that was there. She’d loved him, but it went deeper than what her family felt for Luca. He was her lover. He was her everything.

  “I was twenty. He was almost thirty. We were so stupid. And Luca, he was all about honor and respect. He’d messed up so much and Smoke had given him a second chance. But my brother…when he found out about us…” Toni closed her eyes, squeezing them tight, like the memory was too much, the irritation, the pain of it all ached between her temples. “He thought I was some stupid kid. He thought Luca had taken my virginity and Smoke lost it. Told Luca that he’d kill him if he ever came near me again. So, I convinced Luca to run away. He didn’t want to go anywhere. He wanted my parents’ blessing. He wanted to do everything the right way.

  “But I was so young and so in love with him. And Luca would have given me anything. But he was so messed up about never knowing who his father was. Some gangster from Sicily his mom should have never messed with. Her family put her out because she ran off with him. It was a big scandal. But, he wasn’t interested in her after she got pregnant. Refused to marry her and she was left on her own. Turned out by her family, then her man. It was hard enough being a single woman back then living on her own, but being a single Black woman with a baby? Here? You don’t know how hard it was for Luca…half-Italian, half-Black kid with some guy for a father no one knows and his mother’s people refusing to claim him because he was a bastard.”

  Toni pushed her eyebrows together, the frustration, the anger bunching up until a small line deepened along her forehead and she curled her arms in front of her chest, her fingers balled into a fist. “He’s beautiful. Those full lips. Those dark eyes. That luscious brown skin? But some people are so fucking small and cruel. And he didn’t want me to lose my family.”

  “They would never…”

  “No,” she said automatically, turning toward me, taking my hand. “They wouldn’t. And that wasn’t why Smoke didn’t want us together.”

  “Then why…”

  “Respect. Business.” She shook her head, her nostrils flaring as she inhaled, like the idea of both those things were still so ridiculous all these years later. “Defiance. It was because Smoke thought I was a kid. His kid sister and he didn’t want me pissing away my future settling down to be someone’s wife and mother. He wanted me to go to college and run a business. He wanted me to conquer the world, like I couldn’t do that shit and still be Luca’s wife, still have his…” The more she spoke, the louder Toni got and the thicker moisture collected on her eyelashes. Here, she paused, blinking until small dots of tears fell from her thick lashes and landed on her cheeks. She swiped at them, looking angry, irritated that she’d begun to cry. “But all he saw was me defying him and Luca taking me away after he told him to keep away from me. So he found us in Boston. And it was…”

  Toni looked away from me then, moving her head like she debated what to say next. Maybe the truth was too hard to speak out loud. Maybe she didn’t want me to know everything. Maybe there were things that just weren’t my business. Whatever made her pause, kept Toni from looking at me and the tears started up again so thick that I thought about telling her to forget that I asked for the truth. The small stack of paper napkins was at my elbow and I grabbed two, brushing her arm with my hand as an offer that she took.

  “You don’t have to…”

  “He’s not a bad man,” she said, wiping her face.

  “Toni…”

  “Luca’s mother was dying.” She turned, nodding at me, and I took the hint, grabbing another clean napkin to fix her smudged makeup before she continued. “He didn’t know about it because she hadn’t told him. Smoke found out from our aunt Maria. She and Luca’s mom were sorority sisters. Smoke told Luca.”

  I pulled my hand from her face and watched her, unable to do anything else until she finished speaking.

  “He knew that Luca would leave. He knew that his only focus then would be getting his mom well. And he was right. But Smoke didn’t tell me any of that. Not when he found us. He brought Luca out of the hotel room and gave him the news. He wouldn’t let him back in to see me. Luca was so upset about his mom, he just left.”

  Toni dropped her eyes, looking down at the wadded napkins she twisted between her fingers and I held her hand, holding it between my own. “And you thought he abandoned you?”

  “And Smoke let me keep thinking that,” she said, staring me directly in the eyes. Her face was dry now. “For years.”

  “Toni…Dios…”

  “When I found out, I was…enraged.” She shook her head, eyebrows going up like the memory was still a shock to her. “Luca tried to get back in touch with me. Tried seeing me, calling me, but I thought he abandoned me. He thought I’d changed my mind. Smoke was the only one who knew the truth and when I confronted him, he promised it was to protect us both.”

  “He lied to you.”

  “He did.” She nodded, rubbing her arms as her attention moved back across the room to where Dario and Luca sat together, and glanced in their direction. Luca DeRosa was still beautiful, even at almost forty. But there was something in his eyes I couldn’t place. Sadness? Loss? Maybe that was something I was reading into the look that seemed to always be on his face, but it seemed to match the one Toni wore.

  “Now it’s…complicated. But Maggie, my brother,” she grabbed my hand, bringing my attention back to her, “he wasn’t wrong about a lot of things. I did all the things he said I’d be good at. Went to school, excelled. Started a business, became rich
and successful from it. I don’t know if that would have happened if I would have married him at twenty.”

  “But you’ll never know and what if Luca was the love of your life?”

  Toni tilted her head, opening her mouth as though she couldn’t believe I hadn’t connected the dots yet. “Oh, cara…but he is. Of course he is.” She looked back across the room, catching the look Luca gave her, not smiling, her expression as blank, as neutral as the one he gave her. “Why do you think I’m still so pissed at my chooch brother? I can be thankful for what he did, but still pissed at him for doing it.”

  “But can’t you and Luca…”

  “It’s not that simple.” She finally looked back at me, closing her eyes one last time before she grabbed another napkin. “It’s all a mess now.”

  Smoke had good intentions, but those good intentions seemed to always hurt the people who cared most about him.

  “Fuck this,” she finally said, releasing a long sigh before she stretched toward the bar and grabbed a bottle of tequila.

  “I don’t think you’re supposed to touch that bottle.”

  “Like I care.” Toni cracked the paper seal and spun the cap loose, pouring two quick shots between us. “We deserve this shit tonight.”

  “Enzo’s gonna kill you,” I heard, staring at the full shot glass as Toni held hers to her mouth. Dante approached and leaned behind his sister, cocking an eyebrow up as she threw back the drink. “That doesn’t go live for another month and they were planning this big…well, there she goes.” The youngest Carelli waved a hand, smiling as his big sister poured herself another shot and had it down her throat before he could finish speaking.

  “Drink,” she told me, motioning to my full glass with her empty one. “You need this too.”

  “Why does Maggie need a shot?” Dante asked, moving to stand between us. He glanced at my face, lowering his brows when I kept quiet. “Can’t be because your boy doesn’t have a solid bed. I made sure it was perfect.”

  “Yes,” I said, picking up my glass when I caught Toni’s hardening glare. “And I appreciate that.”

  “Don’t worry why she needs a shot,” his sister told him, taking an empty glass from the stack and filling it for Dante. “Just drink. We’re celebrating Pop tonight.”

  “From where I’m standing, it looks like you’re trying to get shitty to forget whatever has your panties in a knot.” He looked at me, then to his sister, head shaking. “And I know more about Maggie’s reasons for drinking than you think…moony, girly ass woman.”

  “Drink, baby brother,” she demanded, ignoring his answer before she knocked her glass with his. Then, the woman moved her chin, squinting at my glass like she wouldn’t rest until I had the tequila down my throat. I wasn’t going to take it.

  Mateo was still my responsibility, no matter how many Carelli aunties and cousins looked after him. Besides, I avoided shots at all costs. But when I thought of a good explanation to give Toni not to drink, readying the lame excuse of a sore stomach, Smoke made his entrance into the restaurant. He looked fit, his suit pressed and tailored like it had been sewn right over his beautiful, cut frame and I lost all hold on my good sense. But there was a cut along his chin and a small purple bruise near his cheek that had me staring, had me worried. I dropped my gaze, looking at his hands, spotting his hand, the bandaged knuckles and my stomach curled.

  Toni leaned next to me, her attention on my face, then at her brother before she whispered in my ear. “It’s…just business, cara,” she said, shooting back another shot with Dante before refilling their glasses again.

  “You have to decide, Maggie, if it’s worth the risk.”

  Could I?

  “Dios,” I said, not looking away when he walked to his father, kissing the man on the cheek. Then he picked Mateo up, holding my son in his arms.

  The baby squealed, his face lit up like he knew exactly who Smoke was.

  He patted Mateo’s back, kissing his forehead. His attention moved around the room, looking over the crowd. He nodded and returned smiles when he met welcomes and then his attention stopped right on my face when he found me.

  I took three small seconds to look back at him, practically feeling that searing gaze of his, how it dipped to his brother and sister downing shots next to me, then to the full glass in my hand before I curled my fingers around the shot and threw it back, polishing it off in one swallow.

  “Excellent,” Toni said, refilling my glass.

  Smoke continued to watch me, his mouth twitching, eyes steady, gaze moving up my body, and I slipped my attention to his face, hoping he saw everything I felt in the look I returned.

  There was a risk I was willing to take and I was sure I saw something similar in his features—something that looked a lot like intent. Despite my worry and whatever kept him away, I was ready for it. I even took a step forward, but then his attention shifted to Paris as she stood next to him. Smoke gave her a smile, too warm, too friendly for my liking. She whispered something in his ear, touching his chest while she did it. I looked away, not able to stomach seeing them standing so close together.

  He glanced back at me and I felt that stare in my peripheral. It was heated, intense, but I couldn’t return it.

  “Come on, Maggie,” Dante said when the plates had been cleared from the table and Mateo had given up eating in exchange for snoring right in the middle of Mr. C’s chest.

  “Come on what?” I asked when he stood, holding out his hand to me.

  Otis Redding sang from Mr. Carelli’s massive jukebox in the center of the dining room’s largest bay window as the youngest Carelli threw his sweetest, most alarming smile down to me. It would work on almost any woman with a pulse. The man, like both his brothers, was very handsome. He had an olive complexion and broad shoulders, having worked the past five years on his uncle’s vineyard in Pistoia. He walked with a swagger that wasn’t forced and when he winked at me, hurrying along my indecision to take him up on his offer, I had to admit to myself that Dante Carelli would likely have no problem seducing any woman in this room that wasn’t blood related to him.

  Reluctantly, I let Dante lead me away from the table, not missing how he nodded to his grinning mother as we moved to the makeshift dance floor or how Smoke leaned back against his chair, his arm outstretched, his posture relaxed. But his eyes were still sharp, attentive as Dante curled his large hand against my back and took my fingers as he led us into a slow, sweet one-two-step to that sultry ballad.

  The dance worked to distract me.

  It helped to stave my irritation at not having a single word exchange with Smoke.

  The crowd monopolized him.

  His father and mother held his ear all through dinner.

  Then his brothers.

  Then the line of men, though not the still-recovering Dino, that had been watching the town, his family and our building, one by one, stood at Smoke’s side subtly speaking in his direction as they glanced around the room, keeping their attention alert as he asked one question after another. Occasionally, Smoke would take a drink Paris offered him, then find me in the crowd, or across the table, his stare intense, open. Once, he even stood, excusing himself, and he made his way toward me, but Dario stopped him, nodding at Luca and the three of them moved to the patio for a half an hour conversation.

  Then, Mateo got sick, and I had a mess to contend with that took me away from the table, and when I returned, Paris had put herself next to Smoke at the table, despite the frown he wore.

  The mood was all wrong. Awkward.

  Maybe we’d spent too much time away from each other.

  Maybe the long, quiet conversations on the phone gave us too much distance, too much anonymity. Now we were here, staring at each other, letting the distractions of his family and the crowd keep us from each other.

  Or maybe, I’d worked up this ridiculous scenario between us in my head.

  “Now, see?” Dante started, pulling my thoughts back to the music and the sway of our bodi
es, his hands above my waist, his voice soft and lulling as he moved us to that raspy song. “It’s not so bad, is it? Letting loose a little.”

  “If you say so.” I couldn’t help myself. I couldn’t keep my attention away from the table, trying to find Smoke among the crowd, beyond the chatting dancers and townsfolk that congregated over the tables.

  But he wasn’t there, pretending to relax against his chair. He wasn’t next to Mrs. Phillips, the diminutive woman who owned the B&B five blocks from the park or near her cute boarder with the wire-rimmed glasses who sat across from me during dinner.

  He was three couples next to me dancing with his mother, smiling and laughing as she rested her head on his shoulder. And still, Smoke managed to glance my way, his gaze shifting, dropping when his little brother moved his hand down to rest on my lower back.

  “At least the tequila was good, right?” Dante asked, spinning me away from any vantage point I had of his brother, forcing my attention up at his handsome face. Otis sang on, the bridge moving to a climax and his smile broadened, becoming mildly flirty.

  I didn’t hate the attention, and despite Toni’s revelation, it wasn’t this Carelli’s attention I wanted, and I was sure Dante knew that.

  “No. The tequila was wonderful.” Stretching my neck to see around the room, I frowned. “At least Toni thought so.” When I couldn’t find her in the crowd, Dante nodded toward the patio, drawing my attention to the two figures outside under the dim lights.

  “I think she’s drunk on something else right now.”

  Luca held her by the waist, his long arm tugging her close as she rested her palms flat against his chest. They didn’t seem to speak or do much else but stare at each other and that ache that had pinched in my chest when I first noticed them tonight returned, burning sharper.

  “Will they ever…”

  “I hope so,” Dante said, interrupting my question. I was sure he wondered the same things I did. “Nothing is impossible.”

 

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