The Secret One

by Cardello, Ruth

  “A surprise?”

  “Did you really think I’d let you take a week off from work to help me without coming up with a way to thank you?”

  Warmth spread through me. “What did you come up with?”

  “A surprise.”

  “I don’t like surprises. Just tell me.”

  “No.”

  My eyebrows rose. “Seriously, I’ll still be excited about whatever it is.”

  “Not saying a word. Consider me a vault.”

  Challenge accepted. I released his hand, leaned closer, and ran my hand lightly up his thigh. “A vault?”

  He sucked in an audible breath and grabbed my hand before it reached where it was headed. “No fair bringing out the big guns, lady, when I’m doing my best to keep my hands off you.”

  If there weren’t an intense sexual sizzle between us, I might have been embarrassed. I wasn’t used to men saying no. “Maybe you don’t have to.”

  His nostrils flared, and his hand tightened on mine. “I’m all for telling the attendant to stay out of this area and fucking all the way to Italy, but I’ve never taken things slowly with anyone, and I’m trying to with you.”

  I bit my bottom lip and took a calming breath. “You are so different than anyone I’ve been with. If they said that, I would have called bullshit, but you mean it.”

  “I do.”

  I thought of all the times I hadn’t waited and didn’t like how those memories made me feel. I moved to withdraw my hand, but he held it to his thigh. I said, “I’m not like you. When you pick a real fiancée, you should definitely choose someone more like yourself.”

  “What is this about?”

  I tensed and admitted, “I wasn’t a virgin when we met in that bar. Far from it.”

  He frowned. “McKenna, I don’t care who you’ve been with.”

  “I just want to be real with you,” I growled, and this time I really attempted to pull my hand free.

  “Look at me,” he said gently.

  Fighting back tears I couldn’t explain, I did, but my lips were pressed together in anger, and I was just a hair from pulling back and smacking him with my free hand. “What?”

  “Didn’t we say we’d both be blank slates for each other?”

  “Yes.” We had. I wasn’t sure why I’d even brought it up. Because he wasn’t rushing me? Because I didn’t want a repeat of how I’d shown him Decker Park? I sounded as defensive as I felt but couldn’t help it. “I want to be myself with you. No pretense.”

  His tone was reassuring. “That’s how we should be with each other. Take whatever image you have of who you think I want to be with and toss it out that window. She’d bore me to tears and bring out the worst in me. Just like those guys you dated who didn’t bring out the best in you. How could they when they didn’t know you? That’s all I’m doing, McKenna. I’m not judging. I’m not making promises. All I’m doing is taking the time to get to know you.”

  My hand relaxed beneath his. He wasn’t nearly the pushover his laid-back attitude led people to believe he might be. He was a man with a clear idea of what he wanted. And right then, he wanted me.

  All of me.

  Not just sex.

  I found myself wanting to be whatever it was he saw in me. “I’m not ashamed of anything I’ve done.”

  His gaze was steady. “Good, because neither am I.”

  I let out a shaky breath and changed course. “I can’t believe you won’t tell me what you’re planning.”

  “That’s the definition of a surprise.”

  “I don’t handle those well.”

  “Really? I couldn’t tell.” The twinkle was back in his eyes.

  “You’re an ass.”

  “Still not going to tell you.”

  “I no longer want to know.”

  “Good, because I’m not giving you so much as a hint.”

  “Fine.”

  We exchanged a look and both burst out laughing like longtime friends. Still holding hands, like the lovers we weren’t yet.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  CHRISTOF

  It occurred to me more than once over the next several hours that I could have been handling this all wrong. Some of my friends had been with their wives straight out of the gate, and that hadn’t stopped anything serious from developing.

  I’d meant every word I’d said about not caring about who she’d been with before me. If Sebastian’s journey and loss had taught me anything, it was that it was more important to be real with each other than perfect, and life was too short to waste it living in the past. All that mattered to me with McKenna was how we moved forward together. If we did. I could see how she could fit into my life, but for her the jury was still out on if I could fit into hers.

  And that was okay.

  Friendship was not a bad place to start. If it led to more, I was sure it would be incredible. If it didn’t, I genuinely liked the woman beside me.

  I wanted to hunt down every creep who’d ever done less than treasure her, but then again, if they had, she wouldn’t be flying off to Italy with me. So if I ever met one of them, maybe I’d thank them.

  After I beat the shit out of them.

  The thought brought a smile to my face, as did the view of McKenna lightly snoring as she slept against my arm. I was tempted to videotape her and show her when she woke, but I decided it’d be even better to capture her after-sex snore and give her shit for it then.

  She’d likely whack me in the head with a pillow and pretend to be upset. Making up, even when there’d been no real offense, could be fun.

  As if she could feel my gaze, her eyes flickered and opened. “I fell asleep.”

  “I noticed.”

  She straightened, her hands smoothing down her hair. “Sorry.”

  “Don’t be. You were tired.”

  She searched my face. “Why do you look so amused?”

  “No reason.”

  Her eyebrows met in the middle. “Was I drooling?”

  “Not a drop.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “For such a nice man you’ve got a little edge to you.”

  “I never claimed to be nice.” My grin was shameless. “This is where I admit to also being gifted at giving people shit.”

  Her attention went to the ring on her left hand. “Even your fiancée?” she joked.

  I nuzzled just above her ear and whispered, “Especially her.”

  She turned toward me, our lips only a breath away from each other. “That’s a dangerous game to play. I hear she gives as good as she gets.”

  I kept our kiss light and teasing. “I’m counting on it.”

  She blushed, and had she asked me for anything just then, there was nothing I would have denied her. “We’ll be landing in a few minutes.”

  “Wow, that went fast.”

  “For you. For me it was a slow torture of you cuddled against me, filling my head with all the ways we could have spent this flight.”

  She gave me an odd look. “You’re the one who didn’t want to.”

  I wagged a finger in the air. “That’s where this is uncharted territory for me. I’ve wanted long enough to ache from it.”

  She frowned, and I didn’t like the way I’d voiced how I felt. I was ready to confess that my brain turned useless around her and apologize for sounding like a horny teenager.

  Before I could, she wrinkled her nose at me. “Next you’ll tell me geese don’t fuck on planes.”

  I burst out laughing, and all tension disappeared between us. “I don’t imagine they do. Although it’s something we might want to test in the future.”

  With laughter in her eyes, she said, “You’ll have to get a plane with a bedroom and a shower. Geese like to shower after sex marathons.”

  “So you’re a goose too?” It was a sheer joy to see her laughing again.

  “Could we stop talking about animals fornicating? It’s putting weird images in my head.”

  “You brought it up.”

  “I di
d. Sorry.” Her expression sobered. “So what happens when we land?”

  “My cousin will collect us from the airport. We’ll drive straight to Nona’s. I’ll introduce you. We’ll eat. Probably meet more family. Then head off to bed at a respectable time. This part of the trip won’t be the most exciting, but as soon as I resolve the issue with Dominic, we can do some sightseeing.”

  She put her hand on my arm. “It actually sounds amazing. I can’t wait to see what your family is like.”

  “I hope they live up to what you’re imagining.”

  Her excitement sent a warm feeling through me. I leaned over and kissed her. Being with her felt so natural. So sweet. How had any man ever walked away from McKenna? I couldn’t imagine being able to.

  Her expression turned serious after we broke the kiss off. “When you meet with Dominic, I want to go with you.”

  I shook my head. There were too many ways the situation could go wrong. “It may not be a pleasant meeting.”

  Her expression turned opaque. “I don’t have to be in the same room, but I will be right outside. Think of me as your pit crew,” she said in a lower tone. “Whatever happens, I’ll be there if you need me.”

  Oh, I could fall hard for this woman. “I’ve never had a pit crew. Does this mean I don’t have to pump my own gas anymore?”

  She gave me a long look. “I’m serious.”

  I kissed her briefly before saying, “Yes, you can come with me, but I’ll need to speak to him alone first. He’s been angry for a long time. That won’t be easy to break through.”

  “If anyone can do it, you can.”

  “I’m going to try.”

  When the pilot announced our descent, I reached for McKenna’s hand again. Dominic wasn’t the kind of person to arrive anywhere unnoticed. I had people in place who would inform me as soon as he set foot in Italy.

  One step at a time, though. First, I needed to introduce my fiancée to the family.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  MCKENNA

  Montalcino was just as Christof had described it. Although we’d arrived by private plane just outside the town, we were driven up winding roads by one of Christof’s cousins, Luigi. I’d never been afraid of speed or fast corners, but I’d admit I closed my eyes and gripped the door handle a few times. How Luigi hadn’t yet killed anyone or smashed the little tin can of a car we were in was beyond me.

  I was seated in the front seat, which thankfully had a seat belt. Untethered, Christof chatted from the back. The warm bond between the two was fun to watch. Luigi’s accent was thick, but I could understand him easily. He and Christof spoke in English, for my benefit, but occasionally, when the conversation sped up, it flipped to Italian before Christof would pull it back to English and tell me what they’d said. None of it was anything I couldn’t have guessed. They had differing opinions on who would win the World Cup as well as whose pinci pasta I couldn’t leave without sampling.

  It was my first trip to Europe, so I didn’t know what to expect, but our arrival was greeted as if Christof were the prodigal son. Luigi honked and slowed as he went down some of the narrow streets. Windows flew open, and people called out welcomes to Christof.

  “Are you related to everyone in town?” I joked.

  Leaning forward so his head was between his cousin and me, Christof said, “Enough that dating from this pool has always been too risky. Not that that has stopped Luigi.”

  Luigi said something in Italian. Christof laughed. A moment later Luigi did as well.

  “McKenna,” Luigi said, “I need a rich American wife. Do you have a friend for me?”

  Christof answered before I could. “Stick with dating your third and fourth cousins. American women can’t cook.”

  My head snapped around, and I shot Christof a warning look. “First, no blanket statements about Americans, please. It’s so wrong to clump us together and stamp a stereotype on us.”

  “So you do cook?” Luigi asked.

  A grin spread across Christof’s face. I folded my arms over my chest and sat back with a huff. “That’s irrelevant.”

  “Don’t worry, beautiful McKenna, Christof is the daughter his mother always wanted. He’ll cook for you.”

  The punch Christof delivered to Luigi’s arm caused the car to swerve and almost take out a couple who looked like tourists. I gripped the door handle again. What Christof said to Luigi also didn’t require translation to be understood, but Luigi laughed it off.

  “How far to Nona’s?” I asked. Some of the ride was enjoyable. The teasing between Christof and his cousin was comical. Their banter reminded me of how Ty and I often spoke.

  “We have arrived,” Luigi announced as he pulled off the road and between two stone walls with skill any race driver would admire.

  Christof was out and opening my car door before I had a chance to catch my breath. I took the hand he offered me and breathed in the charm of his family’s villa. Cypress trees lined one side of the driveway. Rectangular red clay pots of flowers topped the stone walls. In the distance I could see the tower of the fortress Christof had mentioned. What little yard the villa had was shaded. There were wooden tables and folding chairs sprinkled around the grass. Quaint. Warm. Timeless.

  The front door opened, and a small herd of children poured out. The youngest was a girl who looked to be about four years old. There were two more girls slightly older, then two boys who appeared to be in their early teens. Christof greeted each of them, then introduced me. I was still trying to link names to faces when more of Christof’s family came out to greet us.

  Sofia and her husband, Giovanni. Vincenzo and his pregnant wife, Elisabetta. They were the parents of some of the children, but which ones I wasn’t clear on. There was a Mario, a Salvatore, and a Ricardo. Pia, Marcia, and Lucia were their wives, but if my life had depended on it, I couldn’t have remembered which man they said they were with.

  Behind them, on the arm of a young man, came a petite white-haired woman in a blue cotton shirt, gray skirt, lavender crocheted sweater, and big loose boots that looked like they were leftovers from one of the World Wars. She cupped Christof’s face between both of her hands and rattled off the rest of her greeting in Italian, then turned to me. “Wren. You return.”

  I didn’t want to correct her, so I smiled and accepted the kiss she gave both of my cheeks.

  Christof put his hand on her shoulder. “Nona, this is McKenna, my fiancée.”

  Nona’s mouth rounded, and she wagged a finger at Christof. “Where is my Wren?”

  “With Mauricio, Nona. I’m Christof.”

  She gave him a long look, then grabbed his face between her hands again. “My Christof.” Without missing a beat, she added, “You got fat.”

  Christof laughed, likely because it was far from being true. “I missed you too, Nona.”

  Nona shook her head with a response in Italian, then gripped my hands. “You shouldn’t be here, Heather. The devil is coming.”

  Luigi stepped closer to me and said, “Don’t be offended, McKenna. Last week she smacked me because she thought I was Salvatore.” He nodded toward his amused cousin. “I still owe you for that.”

  Salvatore didn’t look worried in the least. “I am not the one who told her who is coming to town. That, Luigi, is on you.”

  “I didn’t tell her. I told Mario, who told Pia—”

  “Enough. I get the idea.” Christof shook his head. “You weren’t supposed to say anything yet. Remember, I wanted to tell everyone myself.”

  Luigi threw both hands up in the air. “I saved you the trouble. Besides, if the devil is coming, it’s for nothing good. I made sure the whole family is ready to go to battle with you against him. We might not have fancy planes, but we know people who know people. People who make problems disappear.”

  Voices began to rise in anger.

  My hand clasped Christof’s. His expression was calm, but there was a tension in him I hadn’t seen in him before. “The only devil in this town is th
e one whispering to you that the sins of a father belong to his son. He’s done nothing wrong. All he wants is to get to know us.”

  One of Christof’s cousins stepped closer. “So he didn’t buy the land Ricardo lives on? Or the store Pia works at? He’s not here to finish what his father started?”

  Luigi interjected, “We can’t sit back and do nothing while he comes for our homes.”

  “He’s not going to take your homes or your businesses,” Christof said.

  “You don’t know that,” another of his cousins retorted.

  “I do.” The conviction in Christof’s voice seemed to settle the crowd. “Dominic is family, and I will treat him as such. I intend to invite him to celebrate my engagement with us.”

  “The devil is no welcome in my house,” Nona said with a vehement shake of her head.

  Christof leaned down so his face was closer to his grandmother’s. “Nona, he’s your grandson.”

  “Antonio is evil. He’s no welcome in my house.”

  Christof’s grandmother’s confusion added an additional layer of sadness to the situation. I stepped away from Christof, took one of her hands in both of mine, and said, “Nona, I hear you make the best sauce in Montalcino. It was a long trip, and I’m hungry.”

  His grandmother’s face changed from fearful and confused to animated. She made a tsk sound at Christof. “If you starve your fiancée now, she’ll starve you after the wedding. Come, McKenna. You’re too skinny to be with a fat Christof.”

  “I’m in the best shape of my life,” Christof protested, but he didn’t sound upset.

  Luigi added, “Look on the bright side: she called you both by your real names.”

  As his grandmother led me away, my gaze locked with Christof’s. I mouthed, “You look good to me.”

  He rolled his eyes with a smile. “Thank you,” he mouthed back.

  At first I thought he was referring to my comment, but the look in his eye told me it was about much more. I’d never felt so connected to a man. Words weren’t necessary. I knew he was grateful I’d diverted the conversation.

  His family poured from the driveway into the small home. Conversation was loud, mostly in Italian, with a fair share of laughter. I was seated beside Christof at a small table in his grandmother’s kitchen, finishing off aubergine parmigiana, when the wife of one of his cousins asked me if I’d ever tried Brunello di Montalcino. I almost said I wasn’t much of a wine drinker, but she was already explaining to me the difference between a young and an old Brunello. Did I prefer the taste of fresh fruits or something more candied, almost chocolaty? They also made some themselves; did I want a sample?