Believe (San Francisco Brides Series Book 2)

by Juliano, Celia

  “Caught me again, you devil,” she said.

  “You angels get bored and cold up there. Let me warm you up,” he said with an arch expression.

  “Nope,” she said.

  She quivered with anticipation. He raised an eyebrow and she laughed again. He went in for the mock attack, nipping her earlobes and poking her gently in her sides. His hands entered into the fray and she countered with a few moves of her own. They rolled around the bed, kissing and laughing, sometimes crying out when one found a favorite vulnerable spot. Lita boiled with excitement, popping with heat and the fun of the game. Lorenzo pinned her and she nipped his ear. In a moment, he stripped.

  “Sexy man,” she whispered.

  “Hmm,” he growled.

  He raised her skirt and threw her panties aside. Caressing her thighs, he lifted them, pushing gently before he gave her what she wanted. Lita gripped the sheets as he thwacked into her. She flushed, hot from the little bit of rough he gave. She murmured her appreciation. Lorenzo grunted a satisfied expletive and released her. She sat up and hugged him. He always held her after. He kissed her.

  “It’s late. We better go,” he said.

  “Okay.” She liked him to hold her afterwards, just for a few minutes, especially when he pounded into her like that. But she didn’t ask. She didn’t want to sound needy.

  She followed him into the bathroom. She studied him covertly after they cleaned up and began dressing. He wouldn’t look at her. She bit her lip as she smoothed her skirt. Maybe she’d done something wrong. Her mind played through the day. It had been a calm day, nothing out of the ordinary until now.

  “Ready?” he said as he grabbed his wallet off the dresser.

  She nodded and he took her arm as they walked downstairs. The empty walls along the stairwell made Lita hug her stomach. Uncle Enzo had cleared the space so they could fill it with pictures of their children, hers and Lorenzo’s.

  “How many children do you want to have?”

  Lorenzo stopped on the bottom step. Lita stayed on the one above him, so she could look at him on his level. “I don’t know. We’re waiting. There’ll be plenty of time to figure it out later. You said you didn’t want to be late.” He grasped her hand and turned away.

  “I like to talk about it. When you don’t, I feel like you’re not really happy about it.”

  He pushed out a breath. “We just got back from our honeymoon. I have dreams, Lita.”

  “Then share them with me.” He had, when he’d been in high school and college. Told her about how he and Lee would start an architecture firm together, how he’d live in a house like this one, how he’d travel Europe and take road trips around California. Not once had he mentioned marriage or children.

  “Do you want to be late for the wedding?”

  “No.”

  “Then we’ll talk another time.”

  He said that and then they didn’t. She glanced at the grandfather clock. They did need to go. She followed him out.

  ***

  Lita clasped Lorenzo’s arm as they made their way into the church. The vast space was almost empty, only the first few pews filled with family and friends. They walked down the aisle and sat next to Uncle Enzo. Lita inhaled. The lingering scent of incense and flowers tickled her nose. She crossed her legs.

  Vincente fiddled with his tie as he waited for Gina to appear. Lita smiled briefly, happy for Vincente and Gina. Yet, she’d always imagined her own church wedding. Vincente and Gina had gotten special permission to marry without the usual waiting period. She bit the inside of her cheek. No more regrets. Not about her wedding. Nothing should taint her marriage to Lorenzo.

  The music began and they all stood. Gina appeared, on her father’s arm. As usual, she epitomized classy-sexy, something Lita aspired to, but felt unable to attain. Gina’s off-white, sleeveless dress hugged all her curves, the cut, the fabric, the color enhancing her beauty. She carried a bouquet of red roses, and wore one in her hair, up loosely in beachy waves.

  Lita looked at Lorenzo. He stared at Gina. Lita shifted her feet. Everyone was staring at Gina, as well they should. She was the bride, and a beautiful one, glowing with happiness. Lita focused on her breathing and said a silent prayer, forgiving herself for her envious thoughts and asking for help to get past her insecurity. She was herself, not Gina. And Lorenzo loved her the way she was.

  “Please be seated,” Father Grihalva said.

  Lita sat and leaned into Lorenzo. She was with her husband, in their church, watching their friends get married. Their lives were as beautiful and radiant as Gina.

  ***

  A couple of hours later, they walked outside to join the others at Grandpop’s for the reception. The sun shone low in the sky, giving the bay a shimmering sheen. People already sat at the round tables grouped under an open tent on the wide expanse of lawn while the food loaded two long rectangular tables. Lanterns illuminated the tables, making the red rose centerpieces, china, silverware, and crystal sparkle. They greeted most of the guests and were introduced to the few they hadn’t met. Most were already filling their plates with food, so Lorenzo led her to the line.

  Lorenzo picked up a plate and placed some grilled chicken, green salad, soft breadsticks, and fruit on it. Lorenzo waited, his plate full. Lita quickly grabbed a plate and tossed some food on it. She didn’t care what she ate. She wanted to talk to Lorenzo.

  Lita followed Lorenzo to the table where Sophia and Carlo, Joey, Pete, and Gianni sat. Lita had already seen them at dinner the night before, but she settled in, always enjoying their company. Lita sat between Lorenzo and Gianni. Lorenzo, Joey, and Pete soon talked sports—baseball from the little Lita heard—while Sophia and Carlo spoke about their vacation plans.

  Lita wondered why she wasn’t talking—usually she rambled on when in the company of her family and friends. She tried to concentrate on her meal, which was delicious. Much as she loved her family, she wanted to finish hers and Lorenzo’s discussion from earlier.

  A murmuring breeze sent a shiver over Lita as she went toward the house after dessert. Everyone sprawled out on blankets or settled on chairs and benches, some with their feet up on ottomans with throws for warmth against the chilly snap in the air. Others danced to low music on the small dance floor that had been constructed over the lawn for the night. Listening to the pleasant buzz of laughter and conversation below her, she gazed out at the bay shimmering with the lights of the city and the rising moon.

  When she came back out to the terrace, Gianni leaned against the baluster. He stood when he saw her. She smiled and joined him.

  “You okay, Lita? You were quiet at dinner.”

  Lita laughed. “Do I usually talk so much?”

  “You’re cute when you talk. You get that sweet little smile.” Gianni winked. “But, really, something wrong?” Gianni touched her arm.

  Lita stared at the distant sunset. “How are things with you?”

  “You didn’t answer my question.” He studied her.

  “Sure, I’m fine. Thanks.” She hugged him.

  “Gianni,” Lorenzo said as he walked up.

  Gianni broke their hug and nodded in greeting to Lorenzo. “Guess I’ll leave you two newlyweds.”

  “Hey, what’s going on with your building?” Lorenzo asked. He and Lee had put in a bid on some renovations for a new club Gianni was going to open.

  Gianni glanced at Lita. She frowned. Why did they have to talk about this now?

  Lorenzo continued. “I had a meeting with Tamara, and she has some great ideas for your project.”

  Her stomach clenched. That blond bitch who’d approached Lorenzo on the night she’d come home? Lee’s words ran through her mind: “Him meeting with interior designers and consultants he used to have sex with isn’t in the past.” One more thing to talk to Lorenzo about. One more thing he wouldn’t want to talk about. One more complication.

  She wanted her marriage to be happy, not troubled. She wanted love to be simple. She wanted to believe
in Lorenzo.

  “Let’s talk Monday at your office,” Gianni said. “You free at ten?”

  Lorenzo nodded. Lita smiled at Gianni and turned to Lorenzo.

  “Gina’s getting ready to throw her bouquet,” he said. “You wanted to say goodbye, right?”

  “I want to talk to you.”

  “I know. Later, kitten.” He took her elbow and led her downstairs to the lawn.

  She couldn’t argue with him when he called her “kitten,” and he knew it. Or she believed he knew it. Warmth at his nearness, his touch, his wanting her tangled with her chill over his distance, his not wanting to talk.

  They stood with the other married couples while the bachelors gathered first. Gianni, Pete, Nico, Joey, his uncles Max and James and cousin Jim, Marco, Paolo, Michael, and a few other guys stood, trying to look like they didn’t care, except Paolo, who edged forward with Marco. Grandpop strode behind them, as if he was in charge of the ragged group. Gianni whistled as Vincente slid his hand up Gina’s thigh and eased off the blue garter. Grandpop stepped up and squeezed Gianni’s shoulder. He winced.

  “Okay, okay, sorry,” Gianni said.

  “Here goes, gentlemen,” Vincente said. “And I only mean two of you.”

  Chuckles rippled through the crowd. Vincente tossed the garter right to Marco, who caught it and kissed Paolo. Lita cheered and everyone, especially the other guys, clapped. None of them was ready to get married, Lita guessed. Pete especially, who’d just broken up with his fiancée. They all melted into the crowd and they waited for the ladies to step out. Sophia forced Janetta forward.

  “Paolo, come on,” Janetta said.

  “We got ours.” He laughed.

  Lita did too, at Janetta’s scowl. She spotted her friend Becca, who taught second grade. She and Lita had met when Lita started volunteering at the school where Becca worked. “Go on, Becca,” Lita said as Becca tried to sneak past.

  Janetta saw her too, ran over, and pulled her out on the floor with her. A couple of other women joined them.

  She leaned into Lorenzo as Vincente kissed Gina. With a turn, Gina tossed the bouquet, which Becca caught. Everyone cheered. Sophia eyed Joey; she’d been trying to set those two up.

  “Shouldn’t force people to do this stuff,” Lorenzo whispered.

  Her brow creased. “It’s tradition. Look, Becca’s smiling.”

  Lorenzo shrugged and walked forward to wait for Vincente and Gina. Lita stood with him. Soon, it was their turn. Lita hugged them both.

  “You look beautiful,” she said to Gina.

  “Thanks, you too. I’m glad you could share our day like you let me share yours. It’s going to be great, our babies can grow up together like I did with my cousins.”

  Lita nodded smiling through the tears that pooled behind her eyes. “Enjoy your honeymoon.”

  “We will,” Vincente said. “Lorenzo, thanks for looking out for the business.”

  Lorenzo nodded and shook Vincente’s hand. “Give our best to Mena and Eduardo.”

  “Will do.” Vincente and Gina moved forward, to finish saying goodbye to the other guests.

  Vincente and Gina had talked about having children. They talked about everything. She sucked in a breath of the cool night air. Comparing wasn’t helpful, but it was difficult not to.

  “Vincente and Gina want to have three kids,” she said, trying to sound casual.

  “Good for them. I need to talk to Grandpop.” Lorenzo kissed the top of her head. “Okay?”

  It wasn’t okay, but she nodded anyway. She walked to Sophia.

  “Wasn’t that beautiful?” Sophia said, again glancing at Joey. Sophia was ready for grandbabies, and since Janetta had vowed never to have children, Joey was Sophia’s hope.

  “Yes. Grandpop knows how to throw a party.”

  “I wish you could’ve been here for one when Aunt Teresa was with us.”

  Lita’d heard the parties were even more extravagant and full of warmth when Aunt Angela and Aunt Teresa had been alive. “Me too.”

  “Everything okay, honey?” Sophia rubbed Lita’s arm. “You seem sad.”

  Lita smiled, maybe too brightly. But she didn’t want Sophia and Carlo to start trouble about Lorenzo. They still had their doubts, and Lita didn’t want to stir those waters. “I’m fine. Just missing my dad.” She rubbed her stomach. She shouldn’t use her dad as an excuse like that. She did miss him, but that wasn’t what bothered her. She’d become accustomed to that sadness. Sophia hugged her. “Thanks.” Sophia was the kind of mom she’d used to wish for—warm, loving, protective.

  “Come on, let’s go find my husband,” Sophia said. She and Carlo talked too.

  They walked across the lawn. Lorenzo stood in a huddle with Grandpop. Lita waved, but he didn’t see her. She clasped her hands. He didn’t see her.

  ***

  “Can we talk now?” Lita asked, like she had last night. Lorenzo had claimed to be tired. They’d gone to bed. Lita had tossed and turned while Lorenzo had been still and silent on his side of the bed. It was the first night they hadn’t made love. She twisted her ring. They’d had sex earlier yesterday, so really she was satisfied.

  “I want to get to the gym.” He kissed her cheek and strode to their bedroom door.

  “Please, don’t go yet.”

  “I’ll be back later.” He waved from the doorway.

  Lita plopped back onto their bed, biting her lip. She pulled her knees to her chest and tried to compose herself. Uncle Enzo and Celeste would be downstairs and she didn’t want to seem upset.

  “Did you hurt your neck?” Uncle Enzo asked her an hour later as she baked bread in the warm kitchen while he sat reading the Chronicle.

  Even his companionship and the sweet yeasty smells didn’t comfort her. Lorenzo was still at the gym.

  “Slept on it wrong, I guess.” Lita didn’t say she’d spent half the night awake. “I’ll be fine.”

  She stayed in the kitchen, even when Lorenzo came home. He went straight upstairs. After a little while, he walked downstairs with a suitcase. Where was he going now?

  “Are you going somewhere?” she said.

  “Yes. I’m taking you away for a couple of days.”

  Lita stood in the kitchen doorway. She didn’t want to ask in front of Uncle Enzo why he’d suddenly made this plan.

  “Where are you taking her?” Uncle Enzo said. “When will you be back?”

  “To the house in Carmel,” Lorenzo said to Uncle Enzo. “I packed your bag too.” A satisfied grin showed Lorenzo’s dimple.

  Lita smiled. She loved Carmel, but she’d only gotten to go a couple of times, when she was younger.

  “What about work?” she said, still wondering at this turn.

  “Janetta said she’d handle everything. I bought you a new outfit while I was out. It’s on the bed.”

  He brushed past her as he strode into the kitchen. Maybe they could finally talk.

  ***

  The drive down Highway 101 was quiet except for the sounds of the tire tread peeling over the road, the other cars whooshing past, her humming, and the rustle of her new dress when she shifted in her seat. She admired the sheen of the cotton sateen fabric. She’d tried broaching a couple of topics, but Lorenzo managed to shut her down each time.

  She had to smile as they approached the house, almost like a rancho of Old California, with its Mission-style architecture, tile roof, and enclosed courtyard. Once Lorenzo parked in the semi-circular drive, Lita hopped out and ran around to see the grounds. Cypress trees, oak trees, and other trees and shrubs greened the landscape while flowers in purple, yellow, red, and orange brightened the green and brown of the natural landscape and house.

  The courtyard had a fountain and roses, little pathways and benches, and an outdoor living room with a pizza oven and built-in grill. Beyond that was an infinity pool overlooking the sloped view beyond. The place was gorgeous, a California dream house.

  Lorenzo’s footsteps sounded behind her. “Do you like it, my
angel,” he asked, stealing his arm around her waist.

  “Yes, who wouldn’t? I hope this means we can talk.”

  “I don’t like feeling forced, Lita. Let’s just enjoy—”

  “No, I’ve waited long enough.” She shoved away and ran into the house, locking herself in the bedroom, a master suite, where the suitcases were.

  She leaned against the door. She shouldn’t have done that. She wanted to be different, wanted to know how to draw Lorenzo out without pouting or getting angry. Didn’t he know she didn’t want to force anything? But that’s how she’d made him feel.

  She held her ring hand out. They were married. They had to talk. Her stomach rumbled. She hadn’t eaten since breakfast. She changed her clothes, hanging up the new dress, exchanging it for soft pajamas. When she walked out into the living room, complete with beamed ceilings and picture windows, Lorenzo jabbed a log in a new, crackling fire with a long poker. The sharp, cleansing smell of the new fire burned away part of her worry about how to approach him.

  “Nice fire,” she said.

  He shrugged. “I’m good at making them. Not so good at sustaining them, or putting them out, either.”

  “It always burns out on its own if you leave it alone long enough.”

  “Do you want to be alone?”

  “No.”

  “Okay. Hungry?”

  Lita nodded. He walked out. She sat on the loveseat close to the fireplace and hugged a pillow. It wasn’t particularly cold, but she shivered a little. A few minutes later, he came back in with a tray, which he set on the coffee table near her.

  “I reheated minestrone soup Celeste gave me and there’s some bread you made this morning.”

  He folded himself onto the floor and leaned his back against the couch before he took a bowl. Lita slid to the floor too, sitting cross-legged in front of the table where they both ate. The hot soup and hotter fire soon took away her chill, leaving her body relaxed and heavy. She pulled herself back up to the sofa, where she curled up and looked out the windows, which now reflected the fire, and only glimpses of cypress trees and low shrubs and stars glistened through, sometimes shadowed as Lorenzo passed by. She shut her eyes. Last night’s lack of sleep hit her. Exhaustion forced her head onto the cushions and kept her from saying anything when Lorenzo eased himself next to her.