“The most beautiful woman on the planet, wearing my tee-shirt like she was born to walk around in my clothes and a smile on her face that I put there,” he answered bluntly, making me lose my step and nearly face plant into the kitchen island.
“How do you always manage to make me weep inside like a giddy girl with those sweet things you say?” I muttered, feeling my face flame not only with his bluntness but with my announcement. I found myself being too honest with Luca about how he affected me. My usual cool and calm game I played when with a man went right out the window when it came to him.
“I’m not using lines on you, baby, I mean everything I say. I told you this already,” Luca reminded me.
“Yeah, you did,” I replied softly. It wasn’t that I didn’t believe him at the restaurant; it was more like I had to pinch myself that I found a man that was a doer and not a gunner. If he just wanted to get into my pants, he could have easily talked me out of my no sex plan when he had me writhing and screaming out his name. I loved oral sex. Getting it and giving it. Luca surprised and shocked me when he pressed an opened mouth kiss to my swollen and wet folds from my climax, climbed gingerly to his feet helping me off the couch without any effort from him. He then snagged his shirt off the floor, carefully put it on me, and then declared that I needed to feed him … food.
He shocked me because … well … he didn’t ask me to return the favour. Most guys performed oral on a woman, so he didn’t have to listen to her bitch and moan when it was his turn. I say this only from personal experience, not in casting a general judgement on the whole male species, kind of way. Nope because Luca blasted that urban legend out of the stratosphere.
I admit that I did feel a little guilty, smiling like the cat that got the cream when in fact, it was Luca who got all the cream, not me. His was most likely squidgy and drying in his pants about now. He mustn’t mind because he never asked for a wet flannel or ask to use the bathroom. Why did I find that hot and not gross?
“Are you sure you don’t want me to—” waving a hand in the direction of his crotch, which was hidden by the island, I watched his blue eyes darken and hood as he thought about it.
“No baby, I can wait.” His deep frustrated growl brought the butterflies back to my belly.
My god, his voice was foreplay all on its own—no touching required to be wet.
Shrugging, but not worried by his reluctance to allow me to go down on him. His time was limited for lunch and we had already used up quite a bit of it on getting me off.
“Is there anything you don’t like?” I asked as I began to make the sandwiches.
“Nope. I eat just about anything. It’s the Italian in me, not the French.”
“Good to know, because I do too.” Piling thick chunks of home-cooked corned beef onto the bread, I added generous amounts of spicy mustard sauce, sauerkraut and finished it off with two slices of swiss cheese.”
“What part of you is that?” he asked, watching my every move.
“The part that grew up poor,” I laughed, transferring the two large overstuffed sandwiches to the already heated sandwich press. Thickly buttering both sides of the bread, I sprinkled a generous amount of store-bought already grated parmesan then closed the lid.
“My parents didn’t have a lot of money in the early days of our childhood, so we learned at a young age not to be too fussy.”
“Tell me about your childhood, you have spoken about your mum and sister. What about your dad and brother?”
Luca leaned his arms on the bench and waited for me. His chest was bare, and I was having an incredibly hard time concentrating on cooking simple toasted sandwiches, and now he wanted me to talk about my family.
Geez, the pressure!
Shaking off my rising libido, I set my gaze on Luca’s handsome face instead of his cut chest.
“Okay, let’s see,” I hummed, “Brecken is … a child, basically. He is the youngest and the only boy, so he lives like an entitled turd. He has a job working with our dad, somewhat. He still lives at home, and he has no idea what he wants to do with his life other than sleep until noon every day.”
“What does somewhat mean?”
Lifting the lid on the toaster, I poked at the bread and decided it needed another few minutes.
“Twice a week, he has to get out of bed at eight a.m. and go wash the trucks at the transport company. That is what Brecken classes as a job.” Then feeling bad for trash-talking my baby brother, I added, “But, he does help out at the shop when we need heavy lifting done. So don’t take my criticism for more than a sister dissing lovingly on her brother. Please.”
“Absolutely. And he is twenty-two, right?” Luca asked. Grabbing the jug of iced tea, he poured two glasses, putting mine next to my plate, which he set while I was making the sandwiches.
A man who doesn’t see kitchen work as the woman’s domain only. Tick!
“Yep. Why, do you know of a job for him?”
“I might, yeah, Ace is looking for a few labourers. No particular requirements other than a willingness to work hard and not being late to arrive.” His eyebrows raised comically, making me giggle.
“Um yeah, maybe I can mention it to him at family dinner tomorrow.” Not sounding convinced or confident that a job like that was for Brecken, but then again, stranger things have happened. Not all that many came to mind.
Checking on the sandwiches again, satisfied that they were perfectly cooked, I plopped them onto the plates, then went around to the other side of the island bench and took a stool next to Luca.
“Dig in, and while you do, tell me about your family. That is, more than what I already know.” Taking a big bite, I moaned at the deliciousness that was my famous corn beef toasty.
“Okay,” Luca hummed, “you know I have four sisters, and my mum is French.”
“Yup!” My mouth full, so it came out more like up.
Nodding thoughtfully, Luca absently picked up his own lunch, opened his mouth around the bread, and took a huge bite. It was the action of a man who was not afraid of food or trying something different. There was no hesitancy, no small tentative taste, just in with both feet.
“Damn, woman!” Luca suddenly moaned, “This is the best toasty I have ever tasted. The second best thing I have had in my mouth in a very long time.”
Giggling, I bumped my shoulder to his, “The first being what you were doing to me fifteen minutes ago?” I asked, already knowing the answer because he told me several times while devouring my pussy just how it was his new favourite flavour.
“Definitely,” Luca replied firmly, his eyes darkening as they swept over his shirt, covering my bare breasts.
“Oh no, you don’t, Spunk. Start talking, tell me about your sisters.” Giving Luca a mock glare, I picked up my toasty and took another bite. It wasn’t that I didn’t want his hands and mouth on me again, but getting to know each other more was higher on my priority list right now. We already knew our relationship’s sexual side wasn’t going to be a problem, but it was the other aspects that worried me. My family’s dynamics had to be very different from Luca’s, and I knew this because the universe wouldn’t create two families like mine. Life couldn’t be that cruel.
“Spoil sport,” he laughed, then got serious.
“Kayla is the oldest, and she is the one who runs the office with an iron fist. Then, Holly and Sandy have practically the same age gap as you and Spring, and Phoebe is the baby at eighteen. They are all Suzy homemakers in the making, all living at home still and all a pain in my arse. But they are my little sisters and I would do anything for them.”
“And your mum? You told me already about her, but not her name.”
“Irena. I am convinced she was a French aristocrat in another life. She loves pomp and lives for ceremony. Mealtimes at home would never be taken in the kitchen, and toasted sandwiches no matter how delicious are not on the menu.”
I could hear his jovial tone, but a little nagging voice in the back of my mind told me there
was nothing funny about Luca’s mother. The Donatella matriarch scared the shit out of me, and I was yet to meet her.
“Wow! Maybe our mum’s should not meet. Trish is more like Kath from Kath and Kim. Nothing regal about her other than her Charles and Diana tea towels, ” I worried. “Something tells me Irena meeting Lennie and Trish might be a disaster waiting to happen.”
“I can’t wait to meet them!” Luca announced, sounding like he actually meant it. “They sound like a whole lot of fun. Brecken too.”
Staring hard at Luca, all of a sudden, I was worried. No one, and I mean no one, ever got excited with the prospect of meeting my parents.
“Do you have a problem with remaining sane? Is that what you are into, a secret fetish of playing with your sanity?”
Luca’s rich bellow filled the kitchen, making me suddenly comfortable with him in my space. He was the one! Why else would I be ready to hand over my heart to him so quickly?
Before I did that, officially, I had an idea that would set in stone my affirmation that Luca was my future.
“Okay, Spunk, tomorrow how about coming with me to family dinner night? Put your money where your mouth is.” My dare was getting the precise response from Luca I was hoping for. Leaning over, Luca pressed a soft kiss to my lips, the taste of pickled cabbage and boiled red meat not putting me off one little bit.
“What time do I pick you up?”
“Six?”
“Done!”
“You don’t have to check your calendar with iron-fist sister?”
Luca went back to eating the last toasty triangle, shaking his head.
“Nope, I will let her know in the morning that I have something on, and that will be it. She might be the office manager, but I am the boss.”
I gave him a nod, but inside I knew different. I knew girls like the Donatella girls growing up. They bossed the popular boys around, and damn if the boys didn’t like it. Luca already said he would do anything for them, and I just wondered what that entailed exactly.
And more importantly, whereabouts I fit in that equation. The nagging voice was back and it just had to know.
“And what am I, Luca? To you, I mean.” I rushed to add the last part so he didn’t get the wrong impression that I was asking if I was above his sister on the Donatella totem pole.
It concerned me that I was worried about such a silly thing, being independent from such a young age, I had no problem finding my own way. Why, all of a sudden, was I panicking that Luca might not see me as an important part of his life? This made no sense considering we practically just started our relationship.
Slow down, chickee, you aren’t after a ring on your finger. I commanded myself sternly. Maybe a little reassurance, I allowed, acknowledging that Luca did make me slightly unsure of myself, a fact that unsettled me.
“Hey, baby,” Luca whispered softly, his finger under my chin, gently bringing my face up so he could look at me.
So damn, spunky.
“Meadow, as far as I am concerned, you and I are now a couple. I thought that for sure after I walked into your store, that was reaffirmed after going to dinner, but it was cemented twenty minutes ago when you came all over my tongue, screaming out my name. I told you before, baby, I don’t say things I don’t mean.” Caressing my cheek with his thumb, Luca gave me his thousand-watt smile/smirk. I knew my cheeks were burning bright hearing his sexy, dirty words, and that was just fine with me.
Supporting one hand on the bench and the other on his firm, bare chest, I pushed myself up high enough, so my lips were right over his.
“Okay, Spunk, I’m yours, and you are mine,” I agreed happily.
“Geez, you made me work hard, baby,” Luca muttered against my lips, his smile softening his remark.
“I do have a tendency to be complicated,” I quipped, kissing him chastely.
“I reckon I can deal with a little complication.”
I laughed with him, but that annoying nagger reared her ugly head again.
Just wait until you meet my parents, Spunk.
Stuffing my briefcase with the contracts I’d just signed and a few papers I needed to go over later tonight, I busied myself with shutting down my office when I heard the familiar click-clack of high heels.
“Damn, I almost made it,” I grumbled, knowing what was coming my way.
For the entire day, I had managed to duck and weave my sister’s nosy stares and her famous inquisition by staying locked in my office on the phone or rushing out stating I was needed on a work site. And I thought I had been successful, until now.
“Luca, can you please tell me why I cancelled your meeting with Mr Willard and why you aren’t going to be at dinner tonight?” Kayla asked as soon as she passed the threshold of my office. No ‘hello boss’ or ‘you got a lot accomplished today’, just straight into busting my balls.
Pinching the bridge of my nose, I did another silent count to ten, then twenty. The last thing I wanted was Kayla all up in my business with Meadow. My private life was not even a bit personal or off-limits as far as my sisters and mother were concerned, and I usually went along with them for the peace. Meadow, though, was my game changer, I was already partway in love with her, but we were so new I selfishly wanted to keep her to myself a little longer before adding the Donatella women into the mix.
I knew meeting her parents tonight might not seem fair to my family. By the way both Meadow and Spring explained Lennie and Trish, I had the feeling they were not going to be a problem, just perhaps their weirdness, if Meadow’s description was in no way an exaggeration, of course.
“My meeting isn’t cancelled, just rescheduled until tomorrow, and I am not having dinner at Mum’s because I have plans tonight.”
Keep it short and sweet, Luca, do not invite questions.
“Mum will be disappointed, Luca, she planned a big, fancy meal tonight.”
“Mum always cooks a fancy meal, Kayla. And how many do I miss a week?” Not waiting for her rebuttal, I grabbed my briefcase and headed around the desk. Kayla was still standing there with her hands on her hips and narrowed, suspicious eyes.
“What?”
“Luca, Mr Willard is Dad’s oldest client. He is very important to the company, much more important than meeting up with Ace and the band of misfits you call friends.” The final word was barely out of her mouth before I launched my attack.
“Kayla, don’t preach to me. I know Tom is loyal and an important part of this business’ success. He wasn’t perturbed in any way when I called him to reschedule, so chill, will you please.”
“And as for Ace and the guys—”
About to come to their defence and deliver my final blow, Ace walked past the office door and ruined everything.
“Have a good time at Meadow’s parent’s joint tonight, mate. You are in for a treat and an introduction to the twilight zone,” he called out as he kept walking, his laughter ringing out down the quiet hall.
Fucker.
“Excuse me, what was that all about?” Kayla demanded, pushing her way in front of the open door, blocking off my only exit. Her expression was complete shock and a little angry, not that I expected anything else. My family made a habit of controlling every little thing I did, not only that, Kayla and Naomi were good friends. She had hoped for that to turn into sisters-in-law. Not a chance in hell. Even before meeting Meadow, that had not been a possibility. Naomi was nothing to me then, and definitely not now. Meadow changed that.
Fuck, I couldn’t wait to see her. Yesterday was still so fresh in my mind, every sexy sound. Her taste still firmly planted deep into my senses.
“None of your business, Kayla. Now, if you don’t mind, I have somewhere to be.”
“Yes, I heard. The twilight zone with someone named Meadow. I assume from the … ridiculous, but obviously female sounding name she is a woman?” Kayla demanded in her special condescending tone, one she reserved just for me.
“Yes, and that is all you are getting. We are new and getti
ng to know each other.”
“But you are meeting her parents already? Does Mum know that you are seeing another woman? Does Naomi?”
“No, Mum doesn’t know, and Naomi has nothing to do with it because Naomi and I aren’t together and never will be,” I answered sternly, “make sure you get one of the crew to help you lock up the building and have them walk you to your car.” Leaning down, I kissed Kayla on the cheek then made a hasty retreat, ignoring the questions being fired at me as I fled. No way was I ready to share Meadow with Kayla. Mum, on the other hand … hell no. Not until I was sure she was in love with me and couldn’t live without me, and not run. Then and only then would I introduce her to my mother.
***
I steered my car around the corner one-handed, my other hand resting on Meadow’s thigh, her hand linked with mine. This part of town was older than where I lived, the houses 1950s circa, prefabricated weatherboards with the typical corrugated iron window canopies over the front and side windows. Once upon a time, these houses were the Aussie dream for the working class. An affordable way to get out of the cities and into the suburbs.
Our town was primarily split into three areas, the working class on this side, the city dwellers, and on the other side was the more affluent part, where I lived. My parents bought an Australian five-bedroom bungalow on the classier side of town, getting a huge mortgage and living frugally so Mum could have her dream.
Dad worked tirelessly to turn the run-down bungalow into the majestic magazine-worthy home it is today to make his bride happy. What started out as a fifty thousand dollar loan now morphed into a million-dollar investment.
“So, where exactly is your place, Luca?” Meadow asked in between giving me directions when to make a turn and when to go straight.
“I used to live in Webster Street, and now I live in a nice townhouse in Mill Street.”
“And your mum is still in the Webster Street house?”
“Yep, and my sisters too.”
Dramatic, Mushy, Complicated Love Page 8