“I eat, Nonna. I just didn’t have time to eat much the last couple of weeks.”
“Ah,” she sang, clapping her hands excitedly. “I make you the best food.” Wrapping her arm around my shoulders, she pulled me up the steps and into her house. “We have ziti and lasagne with salad and mozzarella. I also made those breadsticks you love and kept some marinara to dip them in.”
All of the hunger that I hadn’t had the last month hit me at once. Her cooking was the best!
So, leaving all my shit in the Jeep until after I’d eaten, I sat down and ate more than I should have. In fact, I ate even more than that because, even though I was full, I still ate another three breadsticks until I felt sick.
“We should get your stuff out of the car, Addy, and get it over and done with,” Dad sighed, leaning back and rubbing his stomach.
Groaning, I got to my feet and made my way out, with Dad following behind me.
I’d just opened the back doors and the trunk and was about to say something to Dad when a truck almost went through Nonna’s wooden fence. That wasn’t what made me scream like a victim in a slasher movie, though.
No, that was the man who jumped out of the truck and bellowed, “You owe me a date!”
Chapter Two
Marcus
My best friend—or at least the guy who’d once been it—burst out laughing at what I’d just told him.
Most nights, we sat out in the yard between our houses with a beer and a fire burning, just to touch base with each other and relax. Tonight was slightly different because I couldn’t fucking relax.
I’d almost given the woman I’d done everything I could to stop thinking about a heart attack.
Hell, I’d quit listening to the radio in my truck and watching television because the fucking jingles tormented me. Today had been the first day I’d turned it on as I drove, singing along to Thunderstruck by AC/DC, sure I was over it, and there she was—in my only neighbor’s driveway.
My foot had accidentally pressed down on the accelerator when I’d seen her, meaning I’d had to slam my brakes on to avoid going through the white fence Mrs. Valtolina took so much pride in.
Like the screeching of my tires on the asphalt hadn’t been bad enough, I’d then jumped out and yelled at the poor woman, almost giving her and the guy with her a heart attack.
“Y-you screamed at her?” Remy wheezed, holding his chest with the hand not clutching his beer.
“I wouldn’t say I screamed, per se. More like I just shouted it.” I looked to the side, wincing at the memory. “Really loudly.”
Bending over, my friend, who didn’t tend to react to things like this, preferring to stay quiet and restrained, laughed even harder. “W-what d-d-did she do?”
Clearing my throat, I took a mouthful from my bottle and swallowed, hoping the alcohol would help with the embarrassment and riot of emotions going through me.
Maybe I should get the bottle of bourbon I kept for emergencies?
“She was the one who screamed,” I sighed, tipping my head back to stare at the stars. “And the guy with her started yelling in Italian with his hand on his chest.”
“How did you never put the chick’s last name together with Mrs. Valtolina? It’s not exactly a common name.”
Good question.
“It never occurred to me they were related. It might be rare to us, but I guess if you’re Italian, it probably isn’t. Fuck if I know.” I mumbled the last words, feeling defensive and also stupid for missing that huge clue that could have put an end to the six months of insanity I’d gone through.
Neither Jackson nor I were what you’d call outgoing. We came from a large family that was, though, but we’d both been quieter and more serious.
Obviously we’d been shitheads as kids, dating, doing dumb shit, making memories we were either amused, proud, or embarrassed by, like all kids did. But we were more sober and levelheaded than a lot of our cousins. In fact, all of my brothers were, but I identified more with my twin’s mentality of life than any of the others: You didn’t need to be loud and prominent in life, you just needed to be yourself to achieve your goals.
I took it a step further and had walls I only lowered when I felt comfortable, and recently that’d happened more than it had in the past. My new sisters-in-law, Sadie and Sasha, were an example. I’d liked both women instantly, striking up an easy rapport with them almost immediately. They were exceptional in every way.
And Addy, she’d also been an exception to my rule, which was probably why I couldn’t stop thinking about her.
What were the chances that song was playing at that moment? Especially given it was precisely what she’d done to me when we’d met—thunderstruck covered the feeling perfectly.