Tossed Into Love (Fluke My Life 3)

“What?” I ask, watching her smile.

“Levi, Fawn’s boyfriend, asked her to marry him Christmas morning,” she says, dropping her eyes back to the pizza in front of her.

“Didn’t they just start dating?” I ask, remembering Libby and some guy coming in for pizza not long after Halloween.

“Yeah.”

“Don’t you think that’s a little quick to suddenly be engaged?”

“They’re in love. What does it matter if they get engaged now or a year from now? I think when you want to spend the rest of your life with someone, you should spend the rest of your life with them—especially when you don’t know how long your life will be.”

“That sounds like a line out of a romance movie,” I say, remembering her aversion to romantic movies and how adamant she was about disliking them.

She peeks up at me and shrugs one shoulder. “I guess it does.”

“So you do like romance?” I nudge my shoulder against hers, and she rubs her lips together.

“I might not like romance movies, but I’m still a girl. I like the color pink, heels, makeup, and designer clothes. I also like the idea of falling in love and finding my own Prince Charming to build a life with one day. Who doesn’t want to fall in love and live happily ever after?”

“I’ve been in love before. It’s not all it’s cracked up to be.”

She licks her bottom lip. “Maybe you weren’t in love with the right person.”

I stare into her eyes, then clear my throat. “Yeah, maybe.” I pull my eyes away from hers.

Really, there is no maybe about it. I shouldn’t have fallen in love with my ex. I only saw what I wanted to see. I stupidly thought that, in time, she would change her ways. That if I could just love her enough she would see that material things weren’t important, that family was all that mattered. I really believed she would eventually be happy with the life I was trying to build for us. In the end, I was just never enough.

“Two minutes until midnight!” Peggy shouts as I lock the door behind the last customer of the night and head toward the kitchen.

Marco pops a bottle of champagne. Lola takes it from him and starts to fill plastic champagne glasses. Seeing my parents standing there with their arms around each other, I smile. My dad looks good—better than he has in weeks. The worry lines around my mom’s eyes have started to fade away. They both look happy, which is a relief. Dad’s heart attack scared them both. I had never seen my mom cry so much or seen my dad look weak. He’s always been strong. Having been together since they were eighteen, neither of them would know how to function without the other.

“Can I have some, Mom?” Peggy and Hector’s daughter, Valeria, asks her as she eyes the bottle of champagne Lola is holding.

“When have I ever let you drink alcohol?” Peggy asks with a frown.

“Dad’s let me have a sip of his beer before.”

“Has he?” Peggy looks at Hector and raises a brow.

“It was only one time,” he mutters, wrapping his bulky arm around Valeria’s shoulder. “There’s sparkling cider for you.”

“Fine,” she grumbles, taking a glass from her dad.

I smile at them, then head though the opening into the back kitchen. I grab a full champagne glass off the counter as the countdown on the TV plays loudly in the background. Moving next to Libby, I watch her eyes light up as she counts down along with the TV and everyone in the room.

“Nine. Eight. Seven. Six. Five. Four. Three. Two. One . . . Happy New Year!” everyone shouts, clinking their glasses together before taking sips and kissing.

Looking down at Libby, I feel her eyes on me. My stomach knots when our eyes lock.

“Happy New Year,” she whispers.

I lean down and touch my lips to the corner of her mouth. She gasps before I pull away, murmuring, “Happy New Year, Princess.”

Without another word to her, I go over to my parents and give them each a hug.

“I’m going to miss this place,” Mom says quietly, looking around the space and at the people who have made Tony’s what it is.

“I know you will. And I know Dad will, too, but it’s time for you both to move on. It’s time for you guys to relax and enjoy life. It’s time for you two to do all that traveling you’ve been talking about,” I say as my dad wraps his arm around my shoulder.

“You’re right.”

Dad smiles, and sadness fills my chest. I might not like this place or want to spend the rest of my life running a pizzeria, but I’m proud of my parents for what they have accomplished and for the life that they were able to provide for me by working here.