Jack chuckled, a soft, low rumble that had Luciana wishing for things she never had before. She swallowed, trying to understand her feelings.
Didn’t Avó Teresa sometimes say that the best things in life were unplanned? Luciana had come to Hudson Springs to work, nothing more. And here she was, attracted to a man she didn’t know well, and secretly glad she had a legitimate reason to stay with his family and get to know him more. If her cousins could see her now, they’d teased her, for sure.
But the question remained—what would happen when she left?
She followed Jack as he went around the house locking the doors and windows. The wind and snow had picked up in force. So different from everything she’d ever experienced. After Christmas, she’d have to call the airline and get an update on her flight.
They climbed the stairs and Jack walked with her to her bedroom door. Luciana opened the door and stood at the entrance as he leaned against the jamb.
“When was the last time you had a boyfriend?” he asked in a low voice.
His mother and grandmother’s bedrooms must be close by. It would be awkward for Luciana and Jack to get caught whispering by her bedroom door.
“I’ve never had a boyfriend,” she whispered back. “Not for real, anyways. I’ve dated some, but I mostly keep busy with my job.” That was her official excuse, the one she used to satisfy the curiosity of her family. The Romanos could be such a nosy lot.
In truth, she’d never felt the kind of attraction that led her to seek a second or third date. With all the traveling and research she had to do for work, time was hard to come by, and spending it on guys who didn’t understand her had not appealed to her before. But she’d always missed having a connection with someone.
It had taken a trip to New York and an unplanned visit to a local café to give her the opportunity to slow down and get to know a man she was interested in. One who was also interested in her.
What could come of it when they lived on different continents?
* * *
Sunday, December 24th
Jack didn’t remember his dreams, but Luciana was the first thought in his mind when he woke up.
Despite a short night, he still rose early to clean up the snow and check on several people. The weather forecast called for clear skies by Christmas Day in the evening, with a chance of more snow later in the week. What this meant for Luciana, he still didn’t know. He’d take it one day at a time, and enjoy what they had while it lasted.
By the time she came down for breakfast, he and mom were in the middle of checking their lists and menus. Nonna sat in the adjacent living room, catching up with some last minute knitting.
Luciana took a stool at the island. “I wanted to wake up early and help, and instead I slept through the alarm.”
Her hair looked like she’d ran her fingers through it, still tousled from bed in plenty of spots, and her right shoulder was bare, the pajama top askew on her frame. Jack stared at her and when Mom cleared her throat, he dropped his pen on the floor.
Luciana smiled at him, her cheeks tinged with a slight blush.
“Don’t worry about it,” Mom said. “There’s lots to do for today and tomorrow. You’ll get a chance to help. But first, breakfast. Would you like me to scramble a couple of eggs for you?”
“No, thank you,” Luciana said. “I’m not used to such heavy breakfasts in the morning. A piece of toast will do.”
“Are you sure? It won’t take long to do it.”
“It’s what I usually have when I’m at home,” Luciana replied.
Mom removed the loaf from the bread box and cut a thick slice, which she placed in the toaster. “Would you like some milk?”
Luciana nodded. “How many people are you expecting tonight?” she asked.
Mom tucked her list in the pocket of her apron. “My daughters usually spend Christmas day with us, but because of the storm, Amy won’t be able to come until the New Year’s. Kate and Leah will hopefully be here for Christmas dinner tomorrow night.” Mom gathered her family recipes. “I’ll go get started on the pandoro.”
After Mom left, Luciana finished her breakfast and took the small plate and glass to the sink.
Jack looked up from his menu. “You don’t have to do that, Luciana. I’ll be running the dishwasher soon.”
“It’s okay.” She quickly washed them and placed them on the drying rack. “I’m going to take a quick shower and get more presentable.”
When she returned twenty minutes later, she joined him at the table. She wore a sweater over jeans and the same slippers Mom had handed to her.
“Where did your mother go?” She asked
“To the kitchen in the café. We make quite a few pandoro and the big mixer helps to get the dough started while I prep in here.”
“What’s a pandoro?”
Jack stopped and pushed the laptop away from him. “It means golden bread in Italian. It’s a sweet yeast bread popular around Christmas, baked in an eight-pointed star-shaped pan, and dusted with vanilla-flavored powdered sugar. You can serve it with fruit spreads, fresh fruit, mascarpone cheese, dark chocolate, or whipped cream.”
“That sounds delicious,” Luciana replied with an interested expression.
“It’s a tradition. We can’t have Christmas without pandoro. What kind of traditions do you have in Portugal?”
“It depends on the region. The food and dishes vary so much from north to south, and from the interior to the coast. One of my favorites when the Romanos get together is sweet rice.” Her eyes lit up.
“How do you make this rice dish?”
“My grandmother and aunts make it, and it’s the best. You take short grain rice and cook it in milk seasoned with lemon peels and cinnamon sticks, with sugar and egg yolks, and then dust it with ground cinnamon.” Her eyes closed. “Hmmm. Just thinking about it.” She opened her eyes and smiled at him. “For us, it can’t be Christmas without sweet rice. Why do you think so many traditions are linked to food?”
“Because food and family go together, and the tastes and smells bring you back to those moments you shared with your loved ones,” Jack said. It was the same with his family, the memories and traditions connected to the dishes they loved. “Do you have the recipe? It sounds pretty easy to make.”
“Do you have all the ingredients?”
“We sure do.” Between their private pantry and the café’s, he probably had the best stocked kitchen in town. Not that he would tell her that—it would sound too much like bragging.
Her face split in a grin. “I’ll go call my Grandmother Teresa and get the recipe from her.”
Jack rose and walked to the pantry to gather the arborio rice, the sugar, and the cinnamon sticks. He retrieved the eggs from the refrigerator and the lemons from the corner on the counter.
When Luciana returned, she held a piece of paper in her hand. “Step by step instructions. The only problem is, last time I tried to make it at home by myself, I managed to botch it.”
“I’ll help you. It sounds like it’s a kind of sweet risotto. You’ll have to translate though.” He winked at her. “It’s in metric, right? We’ll need a kitchen scale.”
Jack pulled the small scale from a cupboard in the island and he worked with Luciana to weigh all the ingredients into different bowls. Then they measured the water and milk into a pot with a dash of salt, and he turned the burner on.
“Are your sisters coming alone?”
“My sisters are married with children, so we’ll have a full house. Amy has three kids, in their pre-teen and young teen years. Kate has also three, and Leah has four, including a new baby girl.”
Luciana’s expression bloomed in a large smile. “My cousin Catarina had a baby girl in October. She’s the first grandbaby in the family, and we’re all so excited. I can’t wait to see her.”
“So your brothers are not married?” Jack asked.
“Filipe is five years older than me and he’s not married. Paulo is two years youn
ger and than me, and Ricardo two years younger than Paulo, and they’re students at the university. They date sometimes, but nothing serious.”
“And you have cousins getting married soon,” he said.
Luciana chuckled. “I do. Two of them—Catarina and her fiancé Afonso on January 1st and Matias and his fiancée in June. Jacinta and her boyfriend Knox are getting more serious, so I wouldn’t be surprised to see them getting married soon as well.”
Jack stirred the rice and followed the instructions Luciana read to him.
“We’re going to need individual dessert bowls or a ramekin-type of bowl,” she said.
He walked to the far cabinet and lifted a dessert bowl. “Will something like this do?”
“Perfect,” she replied.
Jack grabbed a tray and transferred a dozen of the small bowls to the counter next to the stove.
Luciana ladled the sweet rice onto the bowls, placing them back on the tray after filling them. “Now we decorate with ground cinnamon.” She poured some into a small plate.
“Show me how,” Jack said.
She pinched some cinnamon and leaned close to one of the bowls. “The trick is to move your thumb and your index finger and sprinkle the cinnamon into a pattern. I’m really bad at his so I just sprinkle it all over.” She finished decorating the bowl and shook the excess spice from her fingers over the sink. “My mom and grandmother can do intricate designs.”
Jack took a pinch. “I’ll give it a try.” He worked the cinnamon over the sweet rice, but the result was sloppy. “This is a lot harder than it looks.”
Luciana laughed. “Yes, I know.”
“I think I got something that might work better,” Jack said. He washed his hands and walked to the hall that led to the café. “I’ll be right back.”
When he returned with the small box of stencils, Luciana raised an eyebrow. “What do you have there?”
Jack opened the box and looked for a stencil that fit the inside of the bowl. “Christmas stencils,” he replied. “Now I just need to find the small mesh sieve.” He found it, took some cinnamon and poured it in, then shook it over the stencil. When he lifted the stencil, the Christmas tree design on the sweet rice looked festive. “What do you think?”
“My grandma would call it cheating, but I like it.” She spread out the stencils on the counter and soon they had all the bowls of sweet rice decorated.
“What’s the best way to eat this?” Jack asked.
Luciana grabbed two small spoons and handed him one along with a bowl. “I like it warm, like it is right now.” She ate a spoonful. “It tastes just like I remember.”
Jack dipped the spoon into his cup and took a bite, savoring the rice. “The spice from the cinnamon, the freshness of the lemon.” He ate another spoonful. “The creaminess of the custard in the rice is my favorite.”
“Exactly my favorite part,” Luciana said, smiling wide.
“Looks like I passed the test,” Jack said.
She raised an eyebrow. “What test?”
“You were waiting to see if I liked your sweet rice,” he said, unable to keep the smile from his voice any longer. “What do you call it in Portuguese?”
“A-rroz do-ce.” Luciana sounded out the syllables.
Jack repeated the words and she smiled. “The accent needs a little work, but not bad.”
He put down his bowl and stepped closer to Luciana. “I like the a-rroz doce.” He placed a hand on her waist. “But I like you more.”
“Perfect answer, Jack.”
Luciana leaned toward him and kissed him on the lips.
Cinnamon and a hint of lemon.
He was such a gonner for her.
Chapter Twelve
Monday, December 25th ~ morning
Luciana’s cell phone rang as soon as daylight crept through the window. She reached for it and swiped at the screen without looking at the caller ID. She’d stayed up late knitting a cap for Jack, but had barely had the presence of mind to put the needles away before falling asleep without finishing it. She’d have to find the time before she left.
“Hello?” she spoke to the phone.
“You’re speaking English, Luciana,” her mom said.
Her mom’s voice effectively woke Luciana and she sat up in bed. “Olá, mãe,” she replied in Portuguese. “I’ve been speaking English since I arrived here. It’s a habit. How are you?”
“Feliz Natal,” a group of voices shouted over the phone.
Merry Christmas indeed. She smiled. It was Christmas morning and she’d almost forgotten.
She returned the greeting and laughed. “Who’s there?”
“Hi, Luciana. How are you?”
Her brothers took turns greeting her, and she smiled, glad to hear their voices on Christmas morning. A pang of longing squeezed her heart. It was the first time away from home on Christmas. She’d made the decision to come to New York on purpose, but she’d thought she’d be all right with it. Now, so far away from her family, she missed them more than she’d anticipated.
After talking to Filipe, Paulo, and Ricardo, Dad got on the phone for a few minutes before passing it back to Mom.
“We’re leaving to Avô António and Avó Teresa in a few minutes,” Mom said.
The extended family usually got together for lunch at the grandparents home. Anyone who could make the trip would be there.
Luciana missed them all.
“You’re not spending Christmas Day alone, are you?” mom asked.
Luciana wiped her silent tears, keeping her voice even and bright. “No, I’m not alone. I’m spending it with the DiLorenzos.”
“The ones who own the café?”
“Yes. It’s Jack and his mom and grandma. Two of his sisters and their families will arrive later today,” Luciana said. “It’s been snowing a lot, and traveling is kind of hard.”
“Are you still leaving on Wednesday night?” mom asked.
“That will depend on the airport closures, but I’ll keep you updated. When is everyone going down to Castelo Branco for the wedding?”
“Your aunts Glória, Mariana, and Celestina are leaving on Saturday to get a start on the food. Almost everyone else is going on Sunday,” mom replied. “Just make sure you’re not late.”
“I won’t,” Luciana assured. “I’m not missing this wedding for anything.”
“And the baby’s christening.”
“I’ll not miss that either since I’m the godmother. You should see the the little outfit I knit for Carlota.” Luciana described the piece to her mother, leading the conversation to a less emotional topic. She would not cry on the phone, especially on Christmas Day.
They talked for a few more minutes and then Luciana wished her family a happy day, asking them to send hugs and kisses to everyone else. After hanging up, she got in the shower and let the sluicing water disguise the rest of her tears.
By the time she arrived in the kitchen, Jack and his mom and grandma were already there. Nonna was wrapping her knit projects and Jack and Paola elbow deep in dinner preparations.
“Merry Christmas,” Luciana said.
“Ah, Luchana,” Nona said.
She kissed the ladies on the cheek and when she got to Jack he gave her a half hug and kissed her temple. “More later,” he whispered in her ear.
If his mom and grandma noticed, they didn’t comment.
“How do you say Merry Christmas in Portuguese?” Paola asked.
“Feliz Natal,” Luciana said. “I’m guessing Feliz is Felice in Italian and Natal is Natale.”
“Si.” Nonna smiled. “We usually say Buon Natale in Italy.”
“Italian and Portuguese have a lot of similarities,” Luciana said. “We also say Bom Natal.”
Jack put down a plate with food and a glass of orange juice in front on Luciana. “I know you don’t like a big breakfast, so it’s only a small portion.”
“What is it?” she asked.
“Our traditional Christmas morning breakf
ast called strata,” Jack replied. “I didn’t make as much today since it’s only us for breakfast, but I know Kate and Leah will want some later.”
Luciana took a bite. “This is delicious. What’s in it?”
“It’s a savory bread pudding with pork sausage, cheese, and herbs,” Jack said.
She thanked him and he went back to the meal preparations. Nonna finished her wrapping and moved the gifts to under the Christmas tree.
“Did you talk to your family yet?” Paola asked.
“My mom called and I talked to her, and my Dad and brothers. She was worried I’d be alone today, but I told her I’m spending Christmas with the most awesome family.” Luciana stood and took her plate to the sink. “I want to thank you again for inviting me,” she said.
Nonna embraced Luciana. “We’re the lucky ones,” she said with a big smile.
“What Mamma said,” Paola added. “We’re so glad you can spend the holidays with us, aren’t we Jack?”
Luciana and the DiLorenzo women paused to look at Jack. He turned to look at each one of them, then smiled wide at Luciana. “Absolutely.”
The warmth in his eyes set her heart pounding in her chest. Maybe she wasn’t spending Christmas with her family, but she had the next best thing—a family who’d taken her in, and a man who’d be easy to fall in love with.
However surprising the thought was, it was true nonetheless, and she was at risk of losing her heart to Jack.
Luciana spent the rest of the afternoon helping Jack and Paola get ready for dinner and for the arrival of the family. When she heard Paola and Jack discussing sleeping arrangements, she offered to give up her bed.
“What if I sleep on the couch? Will that help?” Luciana asked.
“Sorry, I’m calling dibs on the couch,” Jack said with a smile.
Paola shook her head. “What he means to say is that we have enough beds. Kate and her husband will be in my room, I’ll be sharing Mamma’s bed, Jack is taking the couch, and Leah and her husband and the baby will be in Jack’s bedroom.”
Keep Me At Christmas (Romano Family Book 4) Page 11