Coming Home (Morelli Family 6)

“It wasn’t…” I shake my head, searching for the right explanation. I didn’t think we’d ever be having this conversation. I’ve imagined it before, imagined seeing him again, but I always hoped we would never have to discuss this. I had hoped we would both be so far past it, so content in our new lives, that the past wouldn’t even warrant mentioning. “It wouldn’t have made a difference. I was young and he had this hold on me. You didn’t chase me away, he just pulled me in. It was my fault. I was in the wrong. All you ever did was try to hold onto me. That’s it. I was an asshole and you loved me anyway.” I shake my head, feeling a touch sad. “Please don’t apologize for that.”

He glances over at me, a hint of that sexy little smirk easing my sadness. “Okay, then I rescind my apology.”

I feel a swell of tenderness for him, so I’m tempted to touch his thigh again, but I don’t. I’m pretty accustomed to being openly affectionate these days, but he doesn’t know that and I don’t want to mix signals. I’ve put this poor guy through enough for one lifetime.

“What about you?” I ask, keeping my hands to myself. “Any special lady in your life?”

He shakes his head. “Nope.”

“No Morelli babies for either of us.”

He watches out the windshield as he drives, a little pensive. “No. I’m coming around to it, though.”

“Oh yeah?” I don’t know why that pleases me. Obviously I’ve drank the Morelli Kool-Aid, because life without babies just doesn’t seem complete to me. “Good. I hope you find a great girl who isn’t like me and she gives you all the Morelli babies you want.”

He shakes his head, smiling a little, but I don’t think he takes offense. That makes me feel a lot better. “You weren’t so bad,” he tells me, kindly.

I laugh shortly. “I was horrible.”

He holds up a thumb and forefinger to indicate just a little bit. I lightly smack him on the arm as if offended, and he flashes me a smile that, for just a moment, makes me feel 18 again.

Chapter Five

Mia

“Is it hard?”

Vince is hunched quite sexily at the bar, looking down at his drink glass. Now he turns his head to look at me, since I’ve asked a question.

“Is what hard?” he questions.

“Living in the real world—not having the trappings of Morelli life? It’s been a while, but I’ve always imagined it would be really hard to give all that up now that I’m used to it. You were born to it, so it must’ve been quite an adjustment.”

His head bobs slightly, almost noncommittally. “It wasn’t as easy as I thought it’d be,” he supplies. “I always thought about the freedoms, never the limitations. Grass is always greener on the other side, after all.”

I roll my eyes, nodding in agreement as I take a drink of my martini. “Totally.”

“It was little things in the beginning. Like, did you know you’re not actually allowed to have alcohol until you’re 21?”

I bust up laughing. It’s not that funny, but the alcohol is already moving through my veins, and I’m in a good mood because he’s not heavy, needy, jealous Vince tonight, he’s light, fun, charming, attractive Vince. It doesn’t matter, I’m obviously happily on the inside of a relationship with his least favorite person in the world, but there are worse things than spending an hour drinking with a sexy ex. Especially when he’s being nice to you, even though you don’t completely deserve it.

He smiles like he enjoys making me laugh, even if I am already a little tipsy. “So, yeah, that was a surprise for a while. I went from being treated like an adult all the time to suddenly being treated like an actual adolescent.”

“Go figure.”

“Jerks,” he agrees.

“What about on the lady front?” I ask, brave because of the alcohol. Gesturing up and down his body, I add, “You’ve obviously got all of this going on, but you can’t really Morelli trap girls if you’re not living the Morelli lifestyle anymore.”

“Right?” He widens his eyes slightly, as if surprised. “It turns out stalking is frowned upon in the outside world.”

I shake my head with mock solemnity. “That’s my fault. I should’ve given you a heads-up.”

“You completely fucked up my expectations of women,” he informs me.

Laughing a little, I ask, “Did you really stalk someone?”

“Barely. She overreacted.”

I burst into laughter again. “Oh, man. I want that story.”

He shakes his head, still smiling. “Maybe someday.”

I take another drink of my martini. “Are you staying in town long? You should stay at the mansion. Your old room is untouched, and since we’d be under the watchful eye of the cameras, we could probably hang out. Mateo doesn’t let me have male friends anymore.”