The Woman in the Wrong Place (Grassi Framily) - Page 43

Luckily enough for me, I didn’t have to actually do anything.

I hadn’t had someone to take care of me in, well, ever, I guess.

But from the moment I moved out into the kitchen, Matteo leaped into caretaker mode. Honestly, if I hadn’t witnessed it myself, I wouldn’t have believed it was possible.

I watched as he moved around his kitchen, whipping up scrambled eggs, toast, and ham. Then cleaning up. Then helping me back to bed, propping up pillows under my knees, tucking me in tight.

“You haven’t slept.” It wasn’t a question. He was pale with heavy-lidded, red eyes.

“I’m okay,” he assured me.

“You don’t have a couch,” I said, thinking about his mostly-empty house.

“I can’t decide,” he said, brows furrowing at the change of subjects.

“Hop in,” I suggested, nodding toward the free side of the bed since he’d tucked my arms into the blanket and it felt too good to remove them.

“No, hon, I’m fine.”

“Hop in, Matteo. You need to sleep too. And I’m not going to be moving around anytime soon. I’m gonna just put a movie on and enjoy the pain medicine,” I told him.

“If you’re sure,” he said, looking relieved.

I wasn’t sure of much in my life, but I was pretty damn certain that I wanted to share a bed with Matteo.

Even if all we did was sleep.

He crashed hard just minutes after hitting the pillow.

And I went ahead and was a total creep, glancing over at him as he slept. Which he did peacefully, no tossing and turning.

I was vaguely aware of the sound of the front door open a few hours later, and then the rustling of bags.

I didn’t want to wake up Matteo, but I also didn’t want to be rude to Milo’s sister, either. I wanted to thank her.

So I tried to climb out of bed without too much grunting or groaning, closed the door behind me, then made my way into the main area of the house.

“Matteo, I think I got everything your girl… oh,” she cut off when she saw me. “Holy shit,” she said, shaking her head at me.

“Thank you,” I said, letting out a choked laugh. “Everyone is being so nice, but I know it is really ugly.”

“It is. You okay? The meds good enough? I can pitch a fit with someone to get you more. I did get your refill,” she said, reaching for a pharmacy bag.

“Thank you. I think I’m okay. It’s the moving around that hurts.”

“So the fuck are you moving around for? Where’s my cousin? I need to whoop his ass for having you come out here.”

“He’s sleeping,” I said, shaking my head. “He didn’t get any sleep last night. I insisted. I just wanted to come and thank you for shopping for me.”

“Don’t mention it, babe. Your man paid me for my time,” she said as she loaded a few bags on the counter. “I’m Sofia, by the way,” she said, giving me a smile. “You’re going to hear all these assholes in my family call me Smush. I don’t like that.”

“Got it. I’m Josie,” I told her.

“Well, Josie. I got you about a dozen of the softest socks I could find. Plus all the soaps and lotions and such. In blackberry vanilla. Matteo said that was your scent. Zipper and button oversized hoodies and nightgowns. Pants are no fun when you bruise your ribs. Easier to deal with a skirt of sorts.”

“Have you bruised your ribs?”

“My Ma made us take martial arts classes as teens. I got a little too into it. Bruised twice, busted once. Then my Ma decided that maybe martial arts was encouraging an aggressive streak in me, and if I got too fierce, I might never find myself a husband. She’s probably cursing herself out for not pulling me out sooner,” Sofia said, raising her hand to show me her ring-free finger.

“You’re like my age,” I said, shaking my head.

“Oh, sweetie. These moms, they’re traditional in a lot of ways. Anything past twenty-three without a ring and at least one kid at your heels is too old.”

“Why was your mom trying to set me up with Milo then?”

“Because Milo is a shameless slut and she is worried he will never settle down and give her a million grand babies. I mean she is momentarily satisfied that Lucky is on that. It won’t be long, though, until she is on my, my sister’s, Milo’s and Aurelio’s case about it again. Did she not know you were with Matteo? ‘Cause Matteo is like a song to her, considering what happened with his own Ma. It’s weird she would get between the two of you.”

“Matteo and I… we’re not… it’s not like that. He’s my boss,” I insisted.

“Yeah, okay,” Sofia said, rolling her eyes as she reached up to pull some of her long black hair out of her gold hoop earring.

Tags: Jessica Gadziala Crime
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