"Who? "
"Don't play with me. I recognize that look. A woman is on your mind."
He follows me into my home and without talking, we both wash our hands and begin prepping dinner. My uncle is intuitive and perceptive to a fault. There is no point in lying to him. I decide to answer any question he asks me. I just might be at the point where his advice or perspective can be helpful.
“I know you love me like a son, but you don’t like the city. What brings you by?”
He grins as he puts down his wine. “It was either me or Marti and some of our daughters.”
I shudder at the thought of an all-female invasion. “Gratzi, but why were they coming?”
“We hadn’t seen you. Marti started to worry about you not eating enough and whatever else women create in their heads. Then, Isabella saw a picture or heard a rumor that you went back to Alicia.”
Scrubbing my face, I shake my head. “False. She was lying. I’ve been working since I returned. It was a business thing that she tried to make look romantic.”
He nods his grey head as he considers my words. “I knew that the moment I saw you. The spark in your eyes wasn't put there by Alicia. She had all the time in the world to put it there and never did.” We begin to eat our salads and the bread that he brought with him. “Who put it there? You must think she’s special.”
I think about my Elissa—well, I thought she was my Elissa—despite the uncertainty of our future. I feel a smile tugging at my lips. She’s crazy but in a good way. I tell him as much.
“È pazza ma brava ... canadese, donna di colore ...” I pull up a picture of her on Instagram because my uncle cannot see my saved photos. His smile is genuine, not that I’m concerned. I’m not the first or last Italian man to fall for a black woman.
Did I fall?
“Very pretty. Is she coming to Italy?”
I sigh because there’s our problem. “I don’t know. We met online. I saw her when I was on a business trip. We had a wonderful two days. I came back here everything was crazy at the office, but when I called her last week, she was coming home from a date. It doesn’t appear she feels the same way I feel about her.”
We switch to pasta as my uncle digests the information I gave him. “Were you talking everyday when you came back?”
“I tried but I’m five hours ahead of her.”
“Did you tell her work was crazy.”
“Yeah, I told her I was putting out a lot of time-consuming fires at work.”
“Did you two discuss not dating other people?”
“No, but…”
He gets up, walks over to me, and feels my forehead, then looks under my shirt to check for my birthmark.
“What are you doing?”
He sits back down and stares at me for a second.
“Making sure you were still a Girelli. All I hear is you fell for a woman but failed to claim her properly. When you left, there should have been no doubt in her mind you’re the only man in her life.” It’s my turn to stare because I don’t have a rebuttal. “What did you say when she mentioned the date?”
“Dates,” I clarify. “She’s been on a few first dates—all terrible according to her.”
My uncle’s bark of laughter is annoying and infectious. I love him, but I frown at his amusement.
“Oh, Luca. What do you say about the dates?"
"Nothing. I hung up.”
“Hung up!” His laughter goes up another notch. “When?”
“Five days ago.” His chuckles sustain him while I flip the steaks, take them off the grill, plate them, and bring it back to the table. “Are you done?”
“Lu, be an Italiano, Vorrei che tu prendi la palla al balzo. Go get your woman.”
Taking the bull by the horns is no fun if she doesn’t want the same thing, but he’s right. I can’t find out or claim her from here.
“I already bought a ticket.”
Chapter 18
Elissa
Dinner with my parents was torture. It’s not their fault. I’m lost in my head, missing Luca like crazy, worried he doesn’t want to speak to me, and I’m ninety percent sure I’m pregnant. I ran like a crazy person when The Colombian and Etié passed me that test. I’m two days from doing a cabin event in the U.S., and I'm scared to pee on a stick. Luckily, The Amazonian loves to talk about herself and her fiance. I was able to blend into the background without trying to gag on food I’d normally love.
Once my parents disappear for different reasons, I lean across the table to get Bianca’s attention. I’m glad her fiance isn’t with her tonight.
“Hey, I need a favor.”
She looks as ecstatic as I’d expect her to be if I asked for a kidney.
“What are you up to now?”
“Meet me at my house. And when you get there, pretend you’re my sister and not some natural-born asshole.”
She rolls her eyes, but her nosy ass is intrigued. “I’m not helping you hide a body. I’m too cute for prison. I’m not cut out for a life of crime like you Bellatrix Lestrange.”
“Come to my house, and be normal, or I’ll piss on your wedding dress.”
I don’t doubt she’ll come. We actually love each other. We just have fucked up senses of humor.
Giving my parents squeezes, I sneak out before my mom could try to feed me anything else.
Etié beats me to my house because she’s always on time for hot tea. I low key feel her sizing me up for a book character. I side-eye her on the way into the house.
“I was thinking of baby names,” she says in lieu of a greeting.
“Shut it. My sister is approaching.”
“What’s the top-secret mission, Laverne and Shirley?”
“Geesh you could have at least upgraded us to Thelma and Louise; although, I’m not driving off a cliff with you, Elissa.”
“Will you two just get into the house? I'm nervous enough without the extra bullshit.”
“Fine,” they agree in unison.
I leave them in the living room because I’m pee pee dancing on the way to the bathroom. I ensure I pee into a little plastic cup—I refuse to miss and have to do this again—then, I’m sighing as I get rid of the rest.
I follow the instructions, discard my pee, and put the cap back on. Just to be safe, I whip down the plastic coating with a cleansing wipe because I don’t feel like cussing out my sister.
Etié bounces with nervous excitement and Bianca is still trying to find out what the hell is going on.
“Okay, why am I here?"
"To find out with me what this damn stick is going to say.”
Out of all the time not to have my camera ready, this is the worst because my sister’s face would have been an excellent ‘happy birthday’ post on Instagram.
Dammit.
“How? When? Do you even have a boyfriend?”
“Honestly, I don’t know what he is right now.”
My sister is practically standing on my couch. “What do you mean you don’t know?”
Etié pulls up a picture of Luca. “Would you jump him without a relationship title?”
My sister drops to her knees to see the picture better. “Well, damn. I get it now. I can’t even find anything negative to say. He’s fine, fine.”
“Go lie in her bed. He bought that too." She bounces off the couch and runs off like she’s Francisco.
She sighs loud from the bedroom. “Let me find out you’re selling pussy for luxury bedding, you comfortable slut!”
I snort. “She’s so fired as my sister,” I tell Etié. Bianca returns, squeezing one of my pillows. If nothing else, she’s a good distraction.
“I know what you should call him,” she tells me as she gets closer.
Preparing myself for the bullshit she’s conjuring in her head, I side-eye her in advance. “What’s that?”
“Your baby daddy. It looks like Imma be an auntie. It better be a girl, or I’ll kill you.”
I didn’t hear anything after ‘baby
daddy.’ She is in view of the screen of the test. I slowly turn it to me, hoping she’s fucking with me as usual, but no, she is not.
Etié screams because she’s far too excited that I’m baking an Italian.
I’m pregnant..
I want to pass out, scream, run, and cry. Instead, I’m frozen in place. Etié grabs my phone and takes a picture of me still stunned holding the test. I’ll kill her later. Then she pries the test out of my frozen hand and takes a few more pictures with my phone.
“You’re in shock now, but you’ll want those pictures later. Trust me.”
She takes one with her phone, and no doubt sends it to Franco since he’s the one who called it. I’m mad at him too and the only person he got pregnant was Etié.
With all the local sex I’ve had, I manage to get pregnant by the guy living the farthest away, and who is technically in the wind. He’s been ignoring me since I told him about the date, but I message him anyway.
EllaRoyal: We need to talk.
LucaGirelli: We will but not today.
I don’t know if I should be frustrated or relieved that he at least responded.
If everything goes according to plan, Luca and I are about to do eighteen-to-life.
***
Two days go by, and I’m frustrated. I’d hope to talk to Luca prior to leaving for the cabin retreat, but he obviously had other plans. I trail behind the Munoz Twins as we board the plane. The flight should be interesting since we’re sharing a row. Franco grabs our carry-ons and stores them above for us. I’m glad because It’s a pain in the ass for someone my size.
“I call the window seat, Etie announces as she slides down the aisle.”
“I guess you’re sitting in the middle, Elissa. I fucking hate the middle seat.”
Just then, a mother with a kid around Francisco’s age covers her daughter’s ears and hisses at Franco, “Watch your mouth, some of us have kids.”
Etie turns around, and her face says, ‘She tried it’ I already felt the speech before it started.
“Yes, we too have a child around the same age, and you know what I tell him, Betty? I’d say those are adult words. You can’t use them and stay out of grown folks' business. You should try it.”
“My name is not, Betty.”
“I don’t give a fuck, Susan. The point is mind your business. This is an open seating flight, go sit where you can’t hear our foul words. Off you go.”
Etie’s look dared her to say something else as the woman moved down the aisle.
“And how are you just gonna let Karen talk to you like that?"
“You’re nicer than me. Had I cursed the bitch out, I’d be the angry Colombian man. Then, next thing you know, I’m profiled as a vicious drug lord. No thanks.”
Franco’s assessment has me giggling as I strap myself into the middle seat. I don’t know how I’ll survive almost five hours between them, but it won’t be boring.
“Aww...Look at you two; Franco and Francine being Team Munoz.”
“Shut the hell up,” Etie says with a laugh. “I’m the only one who can talk shit to him. She’d lost her damn mind.”
Franco already has his movies pulled up on his phone and pauses it when he gets a thought.
“Elissa, did you talk to Casanova yet?”
“No, and it might have to wait until after the retreat. It looks like we’re going to be busy.”
He nods—that’s the extent of checking on me he’s going to do. He’s already switching gears.
“Check this out, Mrs. Windowseat. I don’t want to hear your mouth when I watch these two movies. I’ve waited long enough for you to stop bullshitting so we can watch them.”
“By bullshitting, do you mean WRITING? Jackass.”
“Call it what you want, I’m watching the movies.”
Etie clenches her jaw, then whispers screams. “I swear I’m gonna kick your ass one day.”
Franco guffaws. “Keep dreaming.”
“Elissa, does Luca have a brother or cousin?”
Franco goes back to his phone, setting up his movie. “Make sure you tell that cousin or brother you don’t cook, or they’ll want a refund.”
“I do cook, Franco. It’s called fuck you pie.”
His chuckle is his only acknowledgment. “Shush. My movie is starting.”
“I wish we were flying over Colombia; I’d push his ass out.”
Somehow seeing them act up has me missing Luca. I hate the silence, and we really need to figure out the baby situation. I have a doctor’s appointment set up when I return. I don't have any intention of ending the pregnancy. My biggest fear is Luca not being on the same page. I don’t want him to hate me or the child because I’d chosen to keep him or her, but I’m willing to do this on my own. There are plenty of single mothers. It won’t be easy, but I’ve always wanted to be a mother; albeit, it’s happening sooner than I thought.
Chapter 19
Luca
I leave my things in the rental car as I enter the main cabin. This author retreat has a cabin theme. All the activities happen in the main cabin; then, the authors and readers retreat to their own cabins for the night. I didn’t book one, but if things don’t go my way, I’m more than capable of making accomodations for myself. Right now, my mind is on one thing.
“Luca?” A voice I don’t instantly recognize hits my ears the moment I enter.
“Yes?” I respond as I turn to face a curvy black woman with a lighter complexion than Elissa. Wait, I know of her, jeans, t-shirt, braids, and mischief in her spirit.
“Etié? Right?”
She smiles like it’s a celebrity sighting. “That’s me. Nice to finally meet you.”
I greet her the Italian way. The first kiss surprises her then she catches on. Stepping back, she studies me for a bit.
“Look at you, you’re real-life sexy.” She squeezes a bicep. “And strong.”
Her candor is different from Elissa’s. “I read one of your books by the way.”
She scrunches her face as if she expects me to hate it. “You did?”
“Yes. Very funny and sexy.”
Her face lights up with relief. “I thought you’d hate it since it’s so much different than an Ella Royal novel.”
“Different can be good. There’s nothing wrong with some lighthearted heat sometimes.”
The moment I finish my sentence, a Hispanic fellow comes from behind Etié. His eyes shoot from my hands that are gripping her arms to fixing me with a stink eye.
“Patrisha Francine Etié Muñoz! Ven para acá ahorita mismo, mujer.”
I drop my hands because I understand enough Spanish to know he told her to go to him now. Sighing hard, she waves him over. He approaches, his body rigid with an attitude and continues to size me up.
“Luca, this is my husband Franco the Colombian,” she turns to her husband. “And, this is Elissa’s Luca, crazy man.”
“Uh-huh,” Is all he says, but he accepts my handshake. He looks at me like he knows something I don’t, then grabs his wife’s hand to retreat with her in tow. “Elissa is over there.”
Her back is to me as she sits at a table signing copies of her latest books. Her hair is down and pinned to the side giving me a view of part of her neck. Anger, hurt, lust, and frustration hits me all at the same time. People feel we should be on the same page, then, that’s what’s about to happen.
The event, readers, other authors..hell, everything disappears except for Elissa. Since I’d returned to Italy, thoughts of her were never far from my mind, not even on my most stressful days. Now, being in the same space with her has everything short-circuiting.
Elissa looks up and sees me right before I’m on her. Her eyes blink with surprise. Before another fan can steal her attention, my hand wraps around her bicep. I do not slow down or change my stride. Her little body lifts from her chair. Power walking is her only option as we head to the back door.
“She’s on break,” I announce to the line of stunned fans as we proce
ed. “Which cabin is yours?”
“My...my readers,” she begins to protest, but I cut her off.
“Fuck them. Which cabin?”
“Four.”
“Key,” I demand when we stop at the door.
Elissa pulls it out of her pocket and unlocks the door. I slam it shut once we're inside.
“What the fuck, Luca?”
She tries to sound upset, but I can see the arousal shining in her eyes.
“How many dates, Elissa?”
Her head falls back, and she growls at the ceiling.
“We're on this again?”
“Never left. How many?”
“Now is not the time.”
Her breasts heave with irritation. She looks cute in her little teal dress with pockets—I only know because she posted it on social media—too bad I have to fuck it all up. I don’t give a damn about the time. They can wait in line or chat with the other authors until we’re done. This is happening now. I grab her by the back of her neck and pull her close, while tilting her head back so she can look at me.
“How many?”
The defiance fighting with desire in her eyes is erotic. No, it’s an aphrodisiac. The harder my dick becomes the shorter my patience. I rub my free hand down her back then press harder once I reach her lower back making her feel how hard I am for her. My hand continues it’s way down but pauses to get a good squeeze of the juicy ass I've missed so much. She smells so damn good. Elissa sucks her full bottom lip between her teeth to keep from moaning. I smirk because it is futile. She’s going to beg before it’s over. Reaching under the hem of her dress, I toy with the line of her underwear.
“Why haven’t you answered me?”
“You can’t storm in here and demand answers.”
I tug her hair enough to get her attention.
“Keep defying me. It just makes me hotter.”
Elissa gasps when I rip away the cotton standing between me and her pussy.
“We never discussed monogamy. You can’t over-react over something you never claimed.”
I get into her face until our lips almost touch.
“How silly of me. You’re right. We haven’t discussed it. Forgive my oversight. You have every right to continue to do whatever the hell you want to do.”
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