One Shameless Night: An Enemies To Lovers Stand Alone Single Dad Romance (The West Sisters Novel Book 2)

by A. Hargrove

  I laughed at his image. “No, silly. He has a huge house. He said you'd have a separate place to stay and that no one would be on top of each other. They live in Tuscany, close to Siena, and I think they have something to do with wine. His father wants to meet you because I told them you're a connoisseur.”

  “Who are these people?”

  “My friend is Alessandro Balotelli and his father is Antonio.”

  “Balotelli as in Balotelli Vineyards?”

  “No clue. I never asked because you know me. I'm not into wines and he never volunteered any information.”

  “Google it and then tell me. Are you close to your computer?”

  “Yeah, hang on.” I did and holy crap. An unbelievable amount of information came up. “Um, Evan, you really have to say yes. If they live near this place, it's fucking awesome. There's a picture of the entire family, minus little Gabriele.”

  “Who's little Gabriele?”

  “Alessandro's little boy and oh, my God is he ever adorable.”

  “Piper.” He dragged my name out in a warning. “You'd better be careful with that.”

  “You worry about your own self and I'll worry about me. But will you ask everyone if they want to come over for two weeks?”

  “Two weeks? Is he serious?”

  “Yes! Both he and his father invited the entire family.”

  “All I can say is they must be in love with you.”

  “Little Gabriele is. Not Alessandro. And Antonio likes me.”

  “Let me get back to you. But Pipe, their wine is truly the best. It's won all kinds of awards. I'd bet money on it that the guy is loaded.”

  “K. Nice to know. But I'm only into good people, not money. I'm like my big sis in that regard. By the way, is she feeding the troop?”

  “Yeah, I'll tell her to call you.”

  “Okay, bye.”

  Why would Alessandro be so concerned about a job when he had all that money within the family business? That was odd. He did say something about a story that he didn't go into yesterday. It had to have something to do with that. Whatever happened had him leaving the business, and the country. It made me sad for his son, because that place looked unbelievable. Who wouldn't want to grow up there?

  Shutting down my computer, I took a quick shower. Man, did my face ever sting. I wondered what I could put on it. I was afraid to do anything else to it for fear it would get worse. I got dressed and was going to stop at the pharmacy to see what they suggested when someone rang my bell. I opened the door to see Alessandro there.

  “What happened to you?” By his expression, it was worse than ever.

  “Oatmeal and witch hazel,” I explained after his confused stare.

  “I'm taking you to the clinic. They can prescribe something.”

  “I thought you said no one should see us together.”

  He hesitated for a moment. “We are friends. I just came back from taking my father to the airport. Gabriele was a sad mess this morning. He didn't want his Nonno to leave.”

  What did that have to do with our current situation? “Aw, that makes me very sad. They're so close. I'm sure they'll both miss each other terribly.”

  “They will.”

  “But that still doesn't change the fact that you're a professor and I'm a student.”

  He shrugged. “Get in the car. We're going.”

  He drove me to the medical clinic, and they prescribed some cream for my awful welts that continued to worsen. The doctor told me time was the best thing for bruises. I should've listened to the other doctor because he said the same thing.

  On the way back to my apartment, he asked if I called my family.

  “Yes, and they're going to get back to me. My brother-in-law knew your name. He said you own a vineyard.” I was expecting him to poo poo it away.

  “Ah, he does know his wines.” He smiled.

  “Yeah, he's into all of that, unlike me. I just drink the stuff.”

  “I can teach you all about wines and you’ll learn the differences. Papa is sending me a shipment. I've tried to buy better wines here, but I can't seem to find many.”

  “Wow, you really must be a wine snob.”

  “No, when you grow up drinking the best, it's difficult to drink the worst.”

  “Didn't think of it that way. Not to change the subject, but why are you still being so nice to me?”

  His knuckles on the steering wheel grew a bit whiter, but he said, “Can we talk when we get back to your place?”

  “Sure, but I have a class in an hour so we'll have to make it short.”

  We went inside and both sat on the sofa. I waited for him to start, but I was slightly distracted by his sculpted face and hazel eyes. And his glasses of course. Okay, it was a lot more than slightly. Sensuality seeped from every one of his pores. I'd wished dozens of times for him to be unattractive, because it would be so much easier to forget him. But now, I focused on his full lips, his eyes, his slightly wavy hair, and wondered what he'd look like without his shirt.

  “So I was thinking...”

  Crap, I'd been in an Alessandro coma and I'd missed everything he'd said.

  “Can you please repeat that?”

  His sexy grin peeked out. “Which part?”

  “Maybe all of it?” I squeaked out.

  “Where has your mind been while I was discussing my son with you?”

  “I was, er, worried about you getting fired. You know, losing your job.”

  He removed his glasses, lowered his lids and, oh Lordy, help me. That only made him look all the more hot.

  “Gabriele is convinced we should get married. Not that there's anything wrong with you, but I've been down that road before and...”

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa. What do you mean, not that there's anything wrong with me. Of course there's nothing wrong with me. I'm perfectly normal. I've never been married.”

  “I—”

  “Hold on there, buddy, I'm not finished. I was nice to you. I came to your office and joked around, but you got all edgy and then the war started. I've never been treated so terribly by anyone in my life. And I've been going through some awful, I mean frightful things. That day I saw you on the soccer—”

  “Football—”

  “Whatever, fields, I was in a really bad way, and you totally kicked my puppy.”

  “Puppy? What puppy? You didn't have a puppy.”

  I blew out a lungful of frustration. “It's just a saying. Anyway...”

  “Stop, please. We’re getting ahead of ourselves here. I need to watch how I phrase things around you. You are extremely sensitive. Piper, there is nothing wrong with you. In fact, you're beautiful. It's me who has the problem. I can't move forward in a relationship because of my past. I will never move forward in a relationship, but I can't tell that to my son. He adores you and wants us to get married and I'm not exactly sure how to handle that. Leading him on isn't the right thing to do.”

  “Breaking his heart isn't either.”

  “That is something that will never happen.”

  “Alessandro, that ship has sailed. You already said he adores me. What more can be done? To tell him we're not an item will make him want it more. And I don't want anyone's heart to break, most of all his.”

  “Then perhaps we'll give him the Christmas he wants, and not see each other after that.”

  “This is your decision. He's your son. You know what's best for you and him.”

  He nodded and left. Somehow, I knew I would be the one who would end up getting hurt the worst, because after it was all said and done, they had each other and I had no one.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Alessandro

  The plan was sound. Not to see each other after Christmas. I would tell my father not to encourage this relationship anymore. When we arrived back home, I would try to spend as much time with Gabriele, alone, as possible. With Piper's family there, that is if they agreed to come, she would be occupied with them. And all of Gabriele's grandparents wou
ld want to be with him as well. That would work. It had to.

  Piper called two days later and informed me that her family would love to spend Christmas with us, under one condition. They appreciated my invitation to stay but didn't want to invade my home.

  I laughed harder than I had in a long time. “Please tell your family that we won't even notice they are there. We have several guest houses on the property that they can occupy. There are also two separate wings in the house. Believe me, there is ample room for all. As I told you before, you could stay there for weeks and never see me.”

  “I'll relay that to them. My father was the one who mentioned it. And my sister with the babies is worried, as I told you she would be.”

  “Tell your sister, my grandmothers will be ecstatic to have babies around. They are still active and love children. They will be built-in babysitters for them.”

  “Your grandmothers live there too?”

  “Yes, my mother's mother. Unfortunately, her husband died some years ago. She's also American, as was my mother. You will love her. And my father’s parents too. We are one huge happy family. Your nephews will not lack any attention. Besides that, there is nowhere else to stay nearby.”

  She called me that night and the decision was made. Her family would stay with us. I chuckled. When they saw the estate, they would understand. The vineyard had been in the family for hundreds of years. It had begun as an old castle, but had been updated over the years and modernized. Wings had been added to accommodate families, as in older times, everyone lived together. When my father married my mother, they added five guest cottages on the land, one of them being for my grandparents. The cottages weren't exactly small. Some were as large as having five bedrooms.

  When the family entertained for the business, they had to house many people because there weren't any hotels nearby. The addition of the guest cottages had worked to our advantage. The vineyard hosted many wine tastings and festivals, and the business currently rented the cottages during some of the events at a premium.

  The cottages weren't listed on our website so after our call ended, I texted her with a brief message and a link to them for her to send to her family. That would ease their minds as far as putting us out.

  Ten minutes later, she texted me back.

  Are you kidding me?

  I sent her back a series of laughing emojis and I told you we had the room.

  Gabriele had been pestering me about whether they were coming so I told him the good news. He leaped into the air and high-fived me, only he missed.

  “Ms. West is coming for Christmas. Can I call her?”

  “I don't see why not.” I punched in her number and handed him my phone.

  “Ms. West. This is Gabriele. You're coming for Christmas. You get to ride the putters and eat the goodies. And you get to sing with us and my nonne will love you very much and feed you all sorts of things. Like noodles.”

  Her laughter was loud and clear through the phone.

  “Piper? Okay.” He moved his mouth away from the phone. “Papa, is it okay for me to call her Piper?”

  “Did Ms. West say it was?”

  “Yes, Papa.”

  “Then I suppose it is.”

  “Papa says I can,” he said into the phone. “When are you coming to see me again?”

  This conversation made me the outsider.

  “That's too long. Can't you come tonight?”

  “Gabriele, Piper is busy.”

  “But, Papa.”

  I clicked my fingers and he handed me the phone. “I'm sorry, but an eager little boy has no patience.”

  “I can see that. I told him this weekend. Why don't you bring him here for a change?”

  “He'd drive you nuts. And at least over here he has the backyard and I can send him upstairs.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes, what day did you tell him?”

  “Sunday because I promised Emma we'd go out on Saturday.”

  “Sunday it is. See you then.” I ended the call. Why did she have to go out with Emma? She could've come here on Saturday instead. What was I saying? I didn't need her here all the time. The less she was here the better off I was. But the last thing I wanted was for some man to be staring at her while she was out. My grip on my phone was so tight, if I didn't ease up on it, I'd crack the damn thing. Why was I so pissed off about another man looking at her? It wasn't my place. Not only that, I couldn't offer her more than friendship anyway. Dammit. Why did I ever have to marry Chiara? That bitch had destroyed me and everything I valued. Almost.

  Six And A Half Years Ago

  “Alessandro, I'm begging you. Please don't marry her.”

  “Papa, my decision is made. I...”

  “Look me in the eye right this moment and tell me you can't live without her, that she means more than life to you. If you can do that, then you have my blessing.”

  He knew. He knew all along that wasn't possible. I stared at my feet because I couldn't do it.

  “My son, marriage is the most important thing a man does.”

  I ground my teeth together. “Papa, she is carrying my child!”

  “I understand. But that does not mean you have to marry her. Recognize the child as yours. Love the child. Care for the child. But do not marry her. If you do, you will live to regret it.”

  His words rang true dozens upon dozens of times. She’d never wanted me. She’d never wanted Gabriele. She’d only wanted my last name and what it brought to her. But that wasn't the worst of it.

  We'd gotten married, the day I'll always regret. She'd given me my son, which was the happiest day of my life. I treasured him with my heart and soul. He was and will always be the light of my life. I saw things in him I’d never seen in anything before. Gabriele made me believe in our marriage and Chiara. For a short time, I saw love in her eyes, but it disappeared as quickly as it came.

  Chiara hated when he cried. She hated when he needed her. I hired a nanny for him. My nonna came to her aid as well. I was there whenever she needed me. Chiara was never left alone. She was surrounded by people who loved and cared for him. But it was never enough. Nothing pleased her.

  “You don't love me, you only love him.”

  That much was true. What did I do? I showered her with gifts. It satisfied her for a moment or two, but the tears came again. Then the drinking began. At first it was wine. There was always plenty of that around. She'd start late in the afternoon. As time went on, the drinking began earlier and earlier in the day.

  It got to the point that by three in the afternoon, she was drunk. I told her if she didn't stop, I'd send her to rehab. By the time Gabriele was a year old, she barely paid him any attention. She agreed to quit drinking and did. Long enough for us to work on our relationship. That was my second biggest mistake. Her manipulations made me believe she wanted to be a better mother. Until she came to me and told me she was pregnant. Again. She was supposed to be on birth control and I had religiously used condoms.

  I confronted her with it.

  “I stopped taking that stupid pill, and your condoms. I stuck all your packets with needles.” She laughed as though it were all a huge joke. It took all I had to keep from slapping her.

  “Chiara, you pay no attention to Gabriele. How will you handle another baby?”

  “The nanny can do it.” She flipped her bronze hair back and left me standing alone in the bedroom.

  She delivered a beautiful baby girl seven months later. We named her Francesca. She was perfect in every way. That child never cried and looked like the angel she was. God must have thought so too, because one day, when she was only six months old and Gabriele two and a half, Chiara drank herself into a stupor. She strapped the children into their car seats and took off down the road. We lived in the country where the roads were narrow and curvy. She missed a curve, swerved to avoid an oncoming truck, slammed into a tree, flipped the car, and ended up in a ravine. Witnesses said she somehow was able to crawl out of the car and stumble
d away from the wreckage, leaving her children inside. Gabriele was strapped in his car seat, hanging upside down, and my poor angel, Francesca, I won’t allow myself to imagine what she experienced. The few people that were present, rushed over to assist, but it was too late for my daughter. Gabriele nearly died, and Francesca, my dear sweet angel, was called back to Heaven to be with God. Chiara ended up with a broken finger.

  She was currently serving a prison sentence because of the accident, and also because she caused another fatality in it and tried to leave the scene...on foot. I won't ever forgive her for murdering my daughter, my gorgeous sweet angel. And my Gabriele, who was in the hospital for weeks with multiple injuries, all because of that selfish bitch who wanted my money and last name. She destroyed me in the process, the man that I used to be, the one who enjoyed everything about life, the one who found joy in watching sunrises and sunsets, watching flowers bloom, smelling grapes at their harvest, and living at the estate. But most of all, she ruined any hope of me finding love and trust with a woman again. The only things I wanted out of life now was happiness for my son and to keep her toxicity away from him forever.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Piper

  Neither of my sisters would leave me alone. Every day one of them would call wanting to know more about Alessandro. I hedged, saying we were only good friends.

  “Friends don't do what this guy is doing for you,” Sylvie said.

  “It's not him. It’s because of his son. For some reason, he's really into me. And wait until you meet him. You'll see how adorable he is. He can't wait to see the twins too.”

  “You'd better not like him more than your nephews,” Sylvie warned.

  “Stop. I miss those little dudes. How are they?”

  “Draining me dry. I never knew how much breastfeeding would make me feel like a dairy cow.”

  After I finished laughing, I asked her, “Is it non-stop? With two of them I can't begin to imagine. I bet your nipples are tiny stubs by now.”