Spark

by Chelle Bliss

  “It’s Sunday dinner,” Nick tells me from the front of his bike while I clutch his middle like I still have a chance of falling off and killing myself.

  “When you said family dinner, I don’t know why I thought it would be your parents, grandparents, and us.”

  Nick laughs, his body shaking in my arms. “Babe, family means the entire family. Sundays are always at my grandparents’, with everyone in attendance if you’re in town. And there’s no if, ands, or but about that, or my grandmother will lay into the missing party.”

  “But there’re like twenty people here,” I mutter, still in total disbelief with a heavy dash of shock.

  “More than that.” He taps my legs. A simple gesture without using words to tell me it is time to let go and climb off. “Don’t freak out.”

  My feet are on the ground a moment later, but my mouth is still hanging open at the craziness of what they have. “I still can’t believe the entire family is here. Maybe I should…” I back away. No freaking idea where I’m going, but this seems like an important event and nowhere I should be.

  “Stop,” he snaps, reading my thoughts without my having to share my doubts. “I see that wild look in your eyes, like you’re about to bolt. There’s nowhere to go, babe. No reason to run for the hills.”

  I glance down, kicking at a stone near my feet. “I don’t know what I’m walking into here. We never had family anything at my house. If there was a party, it was all my parents’ friends or people in the industry. There was nothing intimate about it. This feels more…”

  He hooks me around the waist, hauling me back until I’m between his legs and his face is nuzzled in my neck. “Babe, what we did last night was intimate,” he says, nibbling on the sensitive skin below my ear.

  I shiver in his arms as my skin tingles everywhere.

  When his hands grope my ass, squeezing, my knees almost give out, but he only tightens his hold on me.

  “This is a fuckin’ good time,” he murmurs against my skin.

  My fingers burrow in his hair, holding him against my neck, loving the way his lips move across my skin. “Are you sure you haven’t brought any other women here?” I ask, always loving to torture or compare myself to the other women in his life.

  “Never,” he answers, his warm breath skidding across my flesh. “Only you, babe. Only you.”

  I smile, staring at the house, loving the hell out of the idea that I’m the first. Probably the only first I’ll ever be able to have with him. “Why me?” I ask, more to myself than him, but I still say the words out loud.

  “Do you want to know me?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Want to understand what type of man I am?”

  “I think I already do.”

  He shakes his head. “To know me, you have to know my family. Not only my mom, but everybody.”

  “Everybody?” I swallow.

  He nods. “Every single person has played a role in making me who I am today.”

  “Maybe this is too soon,” I offer.

  “It’s not too soon. They won’t even bat an eyelash about you being here. There are too many people to keep track of everyone. You’ll blend right in. Half of them won’t even notice you’re there.”

  Why do I feel like that’s a lie? Blend isn’t something I’ve ever been able to do. Even when far away from my element, I stick out like a sore thumb. I did my best today, wearing a T-shirt and jeans I’d packed for the plane ride, when I’d usually throw on a ball cap to do everything possible to hide my identity.

  “Are you sure?”

  “One hundred percent,” he assures me, taking my hand and leading me toward the house.

  “This place is beautiful.” I scan the exterior, taking in the pristine house with not a bush or flower out of place, impeccably manicured and well taken care of.

  “My grandparents have lived here since before I was born.”

  I don’t know how it feels to live in one place for too long. My mother moved around a lot, always jumping to a bigger house, having to show off for the others who worked around her in Hollywood. Nothing said status like a grotesquely large home with more rooms than most small-town hotels.

  My feet slow as we get closer, and Nick squeezes my hand. “Don’t be nervous, babe. Think of them as guests at a party, and if that doesn’t work, picture them naked. It’s what I always do when I get nervous.”

  I laugh, finding it hard to believe that Nick ever gets nervous. He always seems perfectly comfortable in his skin, no matter where he is or who he’s with. “I can’t picture your family naked.”

  “I couldn’t do it.” He grimaces. “But you can. Whatever makes you not lock up and turn mute. My family is going to love you.”

  My feet stop moving entirely, and I yank him back enough to stop his forward momentum. “But what if they don’t?”

  The words are barely out of my mouth when the door swings open, and there’s an older woman with sleek, straight gray hair filling the doorway. “Nicky,” she greets, her eyes bright and her smile wide. “My boy.”

  “Nana,” he says, moving forward, taking me with him since our hands are still connected. Using one arm, he hugs her and leans in, kissing her cheek. “I’ve missed you.”

  “My sweet, beautiful boy, it’s been a week. You don’t need to butter me up with your nonsense,” she teases, smiling at him.

  He laughs, and I cover my mouth with one hand, trying not to be heard, preferring to be invisible.

  “Where’s the girl?” she asks.

  My eyes widen, and my laughter dies a quick, swift death.

  Nick steps to the side, outing me to his nana.

  Her smile grows larger as her eyes sweep over me, soaking me in, studying my every physical feature. “Always knew you’d settle down with a blonde.”

  I choke on my own spit, going into a major coughing fit.

  Nick shakes his head, but there’s a smile on his face. “Nana, behave. Jo and I are…”

  “Don’t lie to me, Nicholas. You’ve never lied to me, so don’t start now.” She steps out onto the walkway, and he moves farther to the side, leaving me totally exposed.

  I don’t know what to do. I stand there, frozen, scared, wondering if I should run. Nick said they’re all nice, but maybe it was a lie. Maybe his version of nice is different from mine. And how would he know how they’d treat me since I am the first woman he’s ever brought to his family’s Sunday dinner.

  “I’m Nana,” she offers, her face bright and cheery. “You can call me Nana too, or Grandma, but nothing else.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” I reply.

  She raises an eyebrow, and her smile disappears.

  “Nana,” I correct myself quickly, never wanting to disappoint her for some reason, even though we’ve only just met.

  “Good girl,” she says, touching my arms, still studying me. “You’re more beautiful than your photographs, my sweet dear.”

  I smile nervously. “Thank you,” I say, but the tone sounds more like a question.

  “I can see why Nicky’s so smitten with you. A classic beauty. He’s not into these done-up floozies around here. He needs a good girl like you.”

  “Well, I…” I swing my gaze toward him, hoping for a rescue, but he doesn’t give me one. “I don’t know if I’m—”

  “Nonsense. My grandson has always had a wild side. Since the day he was born, he had a wild hair up his ass. He needs himself a good woman to ground him.”

  Nick tips his head back, staring up at the sky. “I’ll never live shit down.”

  “Come. Everyone’s waiting to meet you,” she pleads, pulling me toward the house.

  I narrow my eyes at Nick as I pass by. “I thought you said they wouldn’t notice me.”

  “I lied,” he laughs. “But don’t worry, they’re harmless.”

  “Traitor,” I mutter before putting on my brightest smile and following his grandmother into the house.

  There are so many people, I’m almost in shock. Can
he really be related to everyone here? And do they really come here every Sunday to sit down to eat and catch up? My mother has thrown smaller cocktail parties in LA, intimate affairs for friends and coworkers, but never anything for our family. The fact that they wouldn’t speak to her was the issue. No one wanted to be around us unless there was a financial reason for being in one another’s lives.

  Nick’s mom is the first person who steps forward with a dark-haired and olive-skinned man who is an older version of Nick. “Jo, I’m so happy you’re feeling better today. This is Thomas, Nick’s father and my husband.” She says these words while hugging me, taking me away from Nick’s nana.

  “It’s so nice to meet you, sir,” I say, trying to speak as Angel gives me such a big hug, she almost makes it impossible to breathe.

  Thomas’s eyes move over my face, studying me like he can see into my soul with a simple glance. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Carmichael.”

  Nick is the spitting image of his father. Same serious and cocky attitude, along with an appraising look that can make a fully clothed person feel completely naked.

  “Jo, please,” I tell him, noticing the fine lines near his eyes and the smattering of gray hair near his temples.

  “Jo,” he corrects himself. “I’m glad Nicky was able to find you yesterday before—”

  Angel smacks him in the chest and moves in front of him. “Don’t get overwhelmed. It’s easy with so many people, but remember, they’re all pulling for you.”

  “Pulling for me?” I repeat to her as Nick and his father talk quietly behind her.

  “They’re excited to meet Nick’s first girlfriend.”

  I swallow, knowing the magnitude of today, but girlfriend… Am I? Are we more than casual acquaintances who had sex? Feelings are there and are undeniable. The spark was instant, and the promise of something more smolders underneath the surface.

  “Breathe, and if you feel overwhelmed, come find me,” she says, touching my shoulder when I don’t reply. “Breathe, Jo.”

  I inhale deeply, trying to right myself as I see more people coming my way. Behind them is the crew from the bar the other night. Tamara, Gigi, Lily, Mammoth, Pike, and Jett. They’re sitting around a table with two empty seats, hopefully saved for us.

  Angel takes my hand, moving me toward a large group of people. “I don’t expect you to remember anyone, so smile and nod your head.”

  “Okay,” I say, glancing back toward Nick as he gives me a chin lift, letting me go.

  The men in the family are all beautiful, wide chests, broad shoulders, muscled up for their age, and the ink is even more impressive. They don’t look like anyone I know in Hollywood, but their handsomeness would make them fit right in. “These are Nick’s uncles. This is Joe,” she says, pointing to a man who could make any woman weak in the knees. “Mike, Anthony, and Nick’s aunt Izzy.”

  Izzy is the first to move forward and grab me, pulling me in for a hug. “Finally, another woman around here, and a beautiful one at that.”

  “Thank you,” I offer, not sure what else to say. “You’re pretty damn gorgeous too.”

  I feel awkward, and I’m used to people looking at me all the time, living under a microscope in California or in the shadow of my mother’s beauty and success.

  Izzy’s long brown hair is pulled back in a tight pony, slick on the sides without a strand out of place. “This is my husband, James, and those—” she points to two boys and a teenager across the room “—are my sons Carmello, Rocco, and the youngest is Trace.”

  Her husband is freaking sexy with an air of danger, and her two oldest sons no doubt inherited the traits from their father.

  Everywhere I look, I see handsome men and beautiful women, but that shouldn’t be surprising, given Nick’s good looks. If these people are anything to go off of, Nick’s going to get better looking with age and not require the same plastic surgery regimen many older people in my life in California seem to follow on a regular basis.

  “Is there something in the water here?” I ask myself, but Izzy overhears, smiling at me.

  “Good genes and happiness, Jo. Stress and unease will age a person quicker than years. Life’s to be enjoyed. Savored, even. It doesn’t hurt when you have someone you love who’s hot as hell too. You know?”

  I laugh softly, nodding. “If your family is anything to go by, I’d say you’re the happiest people on the planet.”

  “With good genes,” she adds, giving me a wink. “But yes, I’m happy, even if my husband tries my every nerve and he’s now taught our sons to do the same. Do you see my gray hair?” She leans in, turning her head to show me the side of her head, pointing to the silver streaks. “These are because of the four males in my household. They’re trying to age me, and so far, they’re winning.”

  “Don’t listen to her,” James, her husband, insists, coming to stand next to her and sliding his arm around her waist in a sexy, possessive way. “She does it to herself. Our boys are exactly who they were meant to be, and they love their mother more than anything in the world.”

  She peers up at him as he glances down, their looks smoldering and hot. “They can love me and age me at the same time.”

  “We’re getting older, baby. Can’t stop that, but I gotta say, you’re getting sexier with age.”

  She wrinkles her nose. “I refuse to get old.”

  He laughs, brushing his lips against her temple. “We’re getting older together, and there’s no one else I’d rather have at my side than you.”

  I swoon a little for this man I barely know. The way he looks at his longtime wife makes my heart sing and part of me a little jealous. I want a shared history, years in the making with another person. I want someone who’s going to look at me with nothing but love after decades together.

  Nick’s suddenly next to me, his arm snaking around me in the same possessive way James has done with Izzy. “Hey, Uncle.” He gives James a quick chin lift. “How’s work?”

  “Your father is keeping us busy as always.”

  “You two need to retire someday.” Izzy rests her head against her husband’s chest.

  “When are you going to retire, my love?” he replies, tangling his fingers in her hair.

  “My work isn’t dangerous.”

  James laughs. “Your answer is a non-answer. You’ve perfected deflection.”

  “I perfected it long before you entered my life, sweetie,” she replies, smiling.

  “Make way,” a small woman proclaims, carrying her phone. “Old lady coming through.”

  James moves Izzy to the side, his arm still around her waist and a hand resting on her hip as the woman gets closer.

  Nick leans over, bringing his mouth next to my ear. “She’s Fran. She’s a wild old lady, but harmless. Be happy you’re not a guy.”

  “Why?” I watch as the woman who’s dressed like she’s ready for a starring role in a classic rock video gets closer.

  “Because she has a thing for younger, muscular men, and she loves to make her husband jealous.”

  “And her husband is?” I ask.

  Nick points across the room to an extra burly man covered in tattoos with a long gray beard and hawkish eyes. “She does whatever she can to get a rise out of him. It’s their foreplay.”

  When the woman, Fran, stops in front of me, she grabs my hands, and her gaze moves up and down my body. “Damn, she’s a looker,” she says sweetly. “You did good, Nicky.”

  Nick laughs, squeezing my side. “Thanks, Aunt Fran.”

  “Bear, baby, come meet Jo!” she yells over her shoulder to her husband, whose eyes haven’t left her body since the moment she walked away from him.

  He grumbles, mumbling to himself, and makes his way through the crowd and across the room.

  “He’s mine,” she spouts as if I’m going to do something to try to steal him.

  “You’re a lucky woman,” I tell her, but I’m being honest. He’s a little rough around the edges, but he’s still handsome. Th
e man is big, and I’m thinking the size carries everywhere on his body too.

  “Hey, Jo,” the man says, his voice sweet, smooth, and low. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet Nick’s girl.”

  “I’m not…”

  “Bear, behave. Jo and I are only friends.”

  Bear stares at him, not blinking, no smile. “Keep lying to yourself, Nicky boy.”

  “He’s not wrong,” I agree. “We’re friends.”

  “You two do the horizontal mambo yet?” Fran asks point-blank.

  “Um, we…” I bite down on my lip and stop myself from answering. Sex isn’t something we talk about openly in my family, not that I’ve ever wanted to with my mother or father anyway.

  “Fran,” Bear chides her. “Class, baby.”

  “Fine,” Fran says, looking from him to me. “Bear and I started out as friends too, but the way Nick’s holding you doesn’t say buddies.”

  I don’t move away, liking the way he’s holding me. And what she says is true. No friend of mine, not even my closest, has ever held me in the same possessive way he does…but I like it.

  “We’re exploring our options,” I say, figuring it is an answer that will satisfy all parties involved.

  “Exploring is half the fun.” Fran winks. “Am I right?”

  “Aunt Fran, you’re incorrigible.”

  She reaches out, tapping Nick’s cheek lightly with her hand. “I may be old, sweetie, but I’m not dead. Live life to the fullest. Live it hard and fast, because someday, you’ll be old and hurt yourself sleeping.”

  “What?” he asks as she pulls her hand back.

  “You’ll understand when you’re older.”

  “Fran, leave the kids alone. Let them live in oblivion.”

  “Here’s the man of the hour,” Fran says, her eyes moving over my shoulder at the sound of footsteps.

  “My grandpa,” Nick whispers in my ear. “But don’t make a mistake. He’s not in charge. This family is not a patriarchy. My grandma holds all the cards and is one hundred percent the boss.”

  “All the women are the bosses,” Fran tells him, shaking her head. “The men need the illusion of control just like they enjoy a pair of fake breasts, but there’s reality and fiction.”