“I guess you didn’t hang out as much with Ricardo and Javier because they’re so much older than the three of you,” she said and was surprised by the hint of sadness that crept onto his features. She reached out and took hold of his hand when he reached out to pick up his wine glass. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“It’s just . . . Ricardo and Javier stuck together more because they were older, but also because I think it took them a little time to get used to having a new mom and then us.”
Emma was taken aback by his comment. “New mom? I don’t understand.”
“Mamãe is my dad’s second wife. Ricardo and Javier’s mom died from cancer when they were very young. My dad, their dad, was single for about three years before he met and married my mom. I was born about three years later,” he explained, squeezed her hand to reassure her that he was over any upset, and then went back to his bisque.
As she returned her attention to her salad, she wondered what else she didn’t know about him despite the many years they’d spent together. Much like there was so much he didn’t know about her. Since he’d shared a part of his past that obviously bothered him, she decided to share as well.
“My dad walked out on my mom and me when I was seventeen. As hard as it was because of the way he treated us, I was upset when he left,” she said and didn’t say more even though she could have. She could have told him about how that upset turned to hate when over the course of the next few days they’d discovered that he’d stolen every last penny from their bank accounts. Luckily, he hadn’t been able to touch the house whose sale had given them a bit of a cushion, but only a little cushion.
“I guess there’s a lot we have to learn about each other, but it can’t be all bad, can it?” he asked as a busboy came by to whisk away their dirty plates.
“Not at all. I was lucky to meet Maggie, Connie, and Tracy while I was doing work study at Princeton. They’re like my sisters. I wouldn’t trade that for anything,” she said.
“I’m happy to say that Ricardo and Javier finally decided it was good to have little brothers they could torture,” he replied with a laugh and raised his glass. “To family.”
She smiled and joined him in the toast. “To family and to us getting to learn more about one another.”
As they sipped the wine, the waiter came over with their meals. Carlo had ordered a porterhouse steak with a porcini mushroom compound butter, scalloped potatoes, and broccolini sautéed in garlic. She had opted for something a little lighter. Perfectly seared scallops paired with lemony orzo and spinach.
Hunger for food replaced the hunger for more knowledge about him. Silence reigned for long moments until the edge was off that hunger and conversation resumed.
“Are you excited about becoming an aunt?” Ricardo asked while he was cutting a piece off his steak.
“Terrified. I’m not used to babies,” she confessed.
“You and me both. The women in my family don’t seem to think men can take care of babies so they tend to keep them away from us,” he admitted.
“The da Costa family is old school, huh?” she said.
Carlo wagged a finger with indignation and shook his head. “Don’t include me. I plan on being a hands-on kind of dad.”
It was easy for Emma to picture Carlo that way. He was always so patient with his brothers and the staff that worked with him. It was so easy it was scary, but also comforting. She let herself focus on the positive picture of Carlo holding a little baby. Maybe even her little baby.
“Will he be born with soccer cleats?” she teased, wanting to keep the mood lighthearted.
“He or she,” he said, smiling. “I’m an equal opportunity dad.”
With a chuckle, she said, “I’m impressed, but I always suspected you weren’t as chauvinist as your older brothers.”
“I was trying to impress,” he said, grinned, winked, and with another few forkfuls, he finished off his meal. “This was so good.”
She nodded as she also took the last few bites of her meal. “Mac did an awesome job.”
“Makes me a little jealous,” Carlo admitted.
His comment caught her a little off guard. Carlo made meals this good but for sometimes hundreds of people. “You can rock a meal like this in your sleep.”
He seemed a little chagrined and shrugged. “I wasn’t fishing for a compliment.”
Reaching across the table, she took hold of his hand. “I know, but I want you to understand how good you are. As a partner and a friend.”
CARLO HEARD THE FRIEND word again. It was one Emma seemed to toss out a lot, but if it wasn’t already clear to her, he wanted to make sure she understood. “I want to be more than just friends, Emma. As for being partners, we haven’t talked about it in a while, but that would be nice as well.”
A splash of color painted her cheeks and her green eyes darkened to emerald. “It would be nice, Carlo.” She hesitated, but then forged ahead. “I want to be more than friends too, I think.”
He’d take that . . . for now. “Would you like some dessert?”
A sexy smile came to her lips. “I thought we might go back to my place. I made a cheesecake and I have some fresh berries for it too.”
“My favorite. Thank you,” he said and hoped that her desire to be alone with him would be another step to a change in their relationship.
He signaled the waiter for the check and in no time they were out of the restaurant and in the SUV, heading back to Emma’s cottage. He pulled into the driveway and hurried around to help Emma out of the car, but she was already stepping out. He held out his arm for her and helped her avoid an icy patch. Together they hurried to her front door, chased by an arctic blast of wind.
Once inside, Emma gestured to the couch. “Make yourself at home.”
He rubbed his hands together against the chill that had followed them from outside. “Mind if I get the fire going?”
She ran her hands across her arms. “Please and may I say you get brownie points for not assuming.”
“That’s me, sensitive guy,” he said, but in his mind he could hear his brothers kidding him about checking to see if he still had his balls.
Unlike the gas fireplace in her bedroom, the one in the living room was wood burning. She’d already laid out the logs and paper to get a fire started. He struck the match and lit the newspaper. The flames spread greedily and in seconds the first pop from the wood told him the fire had caught. He held his hands out to the flames as they grew, savoring the warmth.
The clatter of plates and cutlery from behind him alerted him to Emma’s return. She had placed thick slices of cheesecake on two plates and topped them with assorted berries in a fruity sauce. She set the plates on the coffee table in front of the couch next to empty glasses and the uncorked bottle of wine he had brought.
“That looks great,” he said, sat on the couch and poured them each a glass of wine.
She handed him one of the plates as she said, “I used your recipe, so I hope it came out as good as when you make it.”
He cut off a big piece and popped it into his mouth. Murmured an appreciative, “Better.”
She smiled and picked up her own plate. Forked a piece of the cheesecake and ate it. “Mmm. Maybe I should bake from now on and let you handle the planning.”
He shook his head vehemently. “No way I am dealing with those bridezillas any more than I have to.”
Laughing, she cut off another piece and chewed on it thoughtfully. Eyeing him intently, she said, “I’ve seen you charm the worst of them. You just give them that melty chocolate look-”
“Like this,” he said and forced himself to look intense.
“God no,” she said with a laugh. “That’s you’re scary pissed off look. Usually one you shoot at Paolo when he’s not listening.”
As much as he loved his brother, Paolo could be a handful at times. Restless much like he’d been at his youngest brother’s age. Finishing the slice of cheesecake, he laid his emp
ty plate on the table and snared his glass of wine. He leaned back into the cushions of the sofa, sipped the fine cabernet, and said, “Don’t you ever get tired of dealing with the crazy ones?”
With a sigh, she raised her own glass and tasted it before replying. “Sometimes, but it’s good business. Some of them even end up being repeat business,” she said with a grimace.
“Second marriages –”
“And third or fourth,” she jumped in with a harsh chuckle.
“Not for you, I guess?” he asked and hoped that her answer wouldn’t be one about never getting married. Peering at her intensely, he waited for her response, but instead she half-smiled and did a little circle around his face.
“That’s the look that melts those women,” she said, obviously in avoidance mode. He wasn’t about to let her off so easily.
He shifted closer on the couch, until his knee brushed her thigh and when she looked away, he cradled her cheek and urged her to face him once again. Apparently realizing he wouldn’t give up until he had an answer, she licked her lips nervously and said, “If I marry someone, it will be forever.”
Chapter 17
Forever.
The word lingered between them, rousing more emotion than Emma had thought possible.
Carlo shifted his thumb up to trail it across her lips and gazed at her with those dark intense eyes that could make a nun waver from her sacred vows. That look kindled need inside her that only he could quench. He leaned close until the warmth of his breath spilled across her lips, fragrant with the scent of wine, and he nuzzled her nose with his.
“I wish I had the right words to say, Emma. I wish . . .” He took her lips in a kiss that said more than any words.
She could love this man forever, she thought as she opened her mouth to his kiss and took him in. His breath, his taste, his sweetness. He made her feel cherished and for that moment, she let herself believe she could be a woman he would want in his life. Forever.
He tunneled his fingers through her hair, his touch gentle, almost a massage against her scalp. His kiss went on and on, but he banked the passion rising between them, keeping his touch more reverent than enticing.
She eased away and searched his features, wondering at his restraint and he once again ran his thumb across her lips, almost as if kissing her goodbye. “It isn’t easy not to take more from you tonight, Em. But when I do, I want it to be forever just like you do. I want you to believe that too and I’m not sure you do. At least not yet.”
She sat back, pulling away from him and not just physically, but he kept up his gentle touch as if to reassure her.
“It isn’t easy for me to believe, Carlo. I saw what happened with my parents –”
“I know, but if you hold on to that and to the way your dad treated you, who loses?” he said and while her brain acknowledged he was right, her heart still didn’t dare believe.
He obviously sensed her conflict since he didn’t push. “How about we sit and enjoy the fire, the wine, and the company?” he said.
“I’d like that.” She didn’t want to end the night so soon, especially when it had been so nice up until she’d messed things up again. But then the little voice in her head said, That’s just what your dad would say. She couldn’t argue with that. She still carried the emotional scars from years of being told nothing she did was ever good enough. That if something went wrong it was because she had screwed up.
Carlo had been right when he said that if she held on to the way her dad had treated her she’d be the one who’d lose. And she didn’t want to lose the amazing man beside her and the promise of the life they could have together. Armed with that, she decided to prolong the night and said, “What do you plan to do with your week off?”
He grinned and winked at her, his brown eyes glittering with amusement. “I plan on wooing a very special lady. Do you have a problem with that?”
Caught up in his playful mood, she said, “Depends on who that lady is.”
Laughing, he wrapped his arm around her neck and hauled her close. “I guess if you don’t know, I have to show you again,” he said and kissed her, all traces of gentleness and restraint gone until she was clinging to him and breathless.
“I guess it would be me,” she said when she finally shifted away again, slightly dazed.
“You guessed right.”
A WEEK WITH BARELY anything to do was a rare thing in his business, but with Connie and Jonathan’s rush wedding and the press conference, he hadn’t dared accept work for anything the following week, especially since they had a schedule crammed with assorted holiday parties in the two weeks prior to Christmas. Except for checking in to make sure their supplies were ordered and would be in on time for next week’s rush, he really had nothing to do. Well, nothing to do except court Emma and as he’d discovered over their last few encounters, that was going to take a great deal of patience and restraint.
He had wanted to do nothing more than to make love to her last night. As he thought of how she’d responded and remembered the feel of her lips and her body pressed to his, he grew hard with need. But as he had told her and everyone else who’d been pushing him, he was a patient man. He didn’t want to be proved a liar.
Trying to shake off his need, he forced himself from bed and into his morning routine. Some quick strength exercises while he watched the financial news. Satisfied with what he saw on the tube, he checked the weather on his phone before dressing for his run. Unlike last night’s chill and wind, today was promising to be a balmy 50 degrees by mid-day and it was already well on its way to that number.
He dressed lightly and headed east through town, passing Emma’s house on the way. Although it was early, the lights were on inside and cast a welcoming glow in the rosy dawn, but he pushed on. One did not woo in sweaty running clothes.
As he continued down Main Street there were more lights on in a few households. When he reached the end of the residential section and the first businesses, a colorful illuminated banner across the street welcomed people to Sea Kiss. In the business section, festive wreaths and garlands of twinkling bulbs wrapped around streetlamps added to that feeling of welcome. On the doors and windows of the various shops and offices were holiday decorations and more cheerful lights. In front of the small food market and further down by the cheese shop, surf and skate shop, and hardware store, delivery trucks were unloading supplies and the drivers waved at him as he ran by.
He waved back and smiled, loving the small town feel and the peace it brought him. In some ways the street reminded him of Ferry Street in Newark’s Ironbound with its strip of stores, restaurants, and his family’s bakery. Everyone knew everyone else and what was going on with them. Everyone watched out for each other.
Another couple of blocks up and the street became residential again, with larger seaside homes and inns. When he hit the boardwalk there were other runners already there, taking advantage of the early morning and the warmer weather. He pushed southward and at the end of Sea Kiss he went up and over the inlet bridge to the next town. Known for its party atmosphere, the heart of its boardwalk had a more commercial vibe than its northern neighbor. Unlike Sea Kiss which was mostly residences along the beachfront and boardwalk, assorted businesses and restaurants lined the western part of the street for a few miles before he crossed over into the next town. Upscale and all residential along the waterfront, that town was more like Sea Kiss, but not as welcoming. Maybe because he always felt a little out of place with the wealthier citizens. Some of those residents had been Emma’s customers at the trendy bridal salon just blocks away in the center of town.
Emma, he thought and his heart raced a little faster, but not from the run.
Unlike him, she had work today even if she had no weddings scheduled until after the New Year. She still had to plan for those events and assist any new customers who might come into the bridal salon.
They’d made plans to have dinner tomorrow night, but he intended to surprise her today with a pic
nic lunch to hopefully break up her day and give her a little time to rest. Maybe even continue with their getting to know you plan so they could move on to the next phase of their relationship. As he daydreamed about what that might be, he caught sight of the lighthouse up ahead and realized he’d reached the halfway point in his run.
Turning, he raced northward, eager to get home and put his plans for the day into place. His pace was quick, far quicker than how he normally ran so he was winded and dripping sweat by the time he got home. Steam came off him as he bent over in front of his house, gulping in cold air until his breath was somewhat under control. He entered, stripping off his clothing as he did so. He was eager for a shower to wash away his grime so he could head out for the day.
He savored the streams of hot water easing the slight soreness in his muscles and driving away the damp chill of the morning. As the water cooled, he hurriedly washed and vowed that when he finally replaced the mobile home with his dream house, he’d have a hot water tank big enough for the world’s longest shower. Or maybe for a two-person whirlpool tub where he and Emma could soak. Maybe even enjoy a little intimacy in the steaming bubbly waters.
As arousal rose up again at the thought, he twisted the tap for a blast of cold to tamp his desire and rushed from the shower. He might not have a lot to do today, but he wanted to get it done quickly and hurry over to visit Emma.
Emma, Emma, Emma, the little voice in his head mocked as if to warn that he was placing too much hope in the thaw in her demeanor. Just like he’d lingered too long in the relationship with Sasha, yearning for a change that had never come.
He swiped away those thoughts the way he might an app on his phone and rushed out the door to the SUV sitting in his driveway. So far it had performed like a dream, although he was still getting used to the lack of engine noise and worried that he might run out of juice. Jonathan had assured him that the car was smart enough to let him know well in advance when to plug in. Plus Jonathan had already installed a charging station at his new research and development center which was only a few blocks from Carlo’s warehouse.
Never a Bride Page 14