Family Ties (Morelli Family 4)

“If you ever knocked up a maid, I would be so pissed.”

“Mr. Fidelity, right here,” he says, indicating his own chest. “No chance of that ever happening.”

“I want to kiss your face,” I tell him, the only warning he gets before I loop my arm around his neck and plant one on him.

He laughs against my mouth, but kisses me back despite all the people in the room.

“I love your face,” I tell him, once I pull back. “It’s so very handsome.” I run my now-free hands down his arms, grabbing one and lifting it.

“What are you doing?”

“I want to see your cuff links.”

“I’m wearing the cuff links,” he assures me, tilting his hand so I can see.

“Oh, sharp. I like them.”

“Does he keep water in here? I want to grab you some water.”

“No,” I say, eyes widening. “Isn’t that the worst? He should definitely keep water in here. I should show you my bedroom. I could kiss your face all I want in there.”

“I would be more interested in that prospect if not for the cameras. I don’t feel like performing for an audience,” he says, smirking. “Why don’t we just go home?”

“Mm, home. I like the sound of that.”

“Yeah?” he murmurs, pulling me close so he can drop a kiss on my forehead. “Let’s get out of here then.”

Chapter Thirty Nine

Francesca

It feels so strange to go back to the bakery—and even stranger that it does feel strange. It’s been my routine for so long, but after a life-altering vacation, I walk through the same dark building, flipping on lights and taking in the same familiar sights.

Everything has changed so much since the last time I opened this bakery. Since the last time I left it.

It takes the whole first hour before I get back into my routine, and even once I do, I feel like my heart isn’t in it. Maybe this week has just been too heavy. Maybe I’m just fried. I love the idea of running my bakery and then going home to Sal every night; I’m just in a funk right now.

I really wish his mom didn’t hate me.

I really wish his dad wouldn’t have had to die.

There will be peace now, though. Sal has assured me multiple times that he is not up to anything shady, he is not lying about his peaceful intentions. He’s probably insulted by how many times I’ve asked, but once we got away from the mansion, drunk Francesca had questions.

In time I’m sure I’ll trust him.

Around lunch time, Sal comes strolling through the front door of my bakery. My tummy flutters at the sight of him. A rush of remembered nervousness flashes through me before it settles on me that he’s allowed to walk through that door now. I feel all soft and dreamy as I walk around the display to wrap my arms around his neck and give him a kiss.

“I didn’t expect to see you until later.”

“I know,” he says, those gorgeous gray eyes meeting mine. He’s pleased with himself. And me. Just in general, we’re both very pleased. “I had some free time. Thought I’d surprise you.”

“You can pop up anytime, I’ll never complain.”

“That so?” he asks, leaning in to kiss me neck.

I can’t help grinning, pulling him close. “Cross my heart.”

“You get a lunch soon?” he asks.

I have to kiss him. He’s so close, he smells so good, he’s so handsome—I just have to kiss him. “What did you have in mind?” I ask, lightly suggestive as I trail a hand around his side, tugging his pelvis against mine.

“Well, food, but I’m open to other options.”

I grin, pulling away and heading for the back. “Let me see if I can get away for a little bit.”

—

“You make me happy.”

Sal glances over at me, his lips curving upward. “I wake up every day with that goal in mind.”

As much as he made this seem like an impromptu idea he had, the fact that he had a blanket and a whole picnic lunch thrown together (in a basket) in his back seat quickly proved that wrong. He confessed to Maddie helping, which makes a lot more sense. I couldn’t imagine Sal actually owning his own picnic basket.

A bottle of wine and a delicious lunch later, I’m so relaxed here with him I hate the thought of going back to the bakery. It’s such a beautiful day. A little on the hot side, but we have a nice shaded nook under a willow tree.

“I wish we could stay here and cuddle all day.”

Sal reaches over and tugs me into his side. “Wish granted.”

I smile up at him. “You’re not a genie.”

“Are you sure?”

He has made an awful lot of my dreams come true. “Hm, maybe you are.”

“I told Ethan we wanted to buy his house.”

“What did he say?”

“He’s cool with it.”