Ten Brides for Ten Hot Guys

by Donna Fasano

  “Yeah! But you didn’t see him. He’s too pretty. And he ain’t Joe.”

  “He isn’t Joe.”

  “Like that’s what I’ve been trying to tell you.”

  Upon Sam’s arrival, after all the introductions were made, Peewee took it upon himself to voice his own opinion. He growled first, decided it wasn’t a strong-enough protest, and tried biting the intruder’s pant leg. Not impressed but nevertheless a gentleman, Sam picked up the incorrigible little devil and handed him over to Tee. She quickly squeezed him to her protectively, secretly in agreement with his antisocial performance.

  Sexy, but in a demure way, best described Angelina. Her face exuded a modest amount of makeup, while her black hair had been gathered into a bundle, piled on the top of her head and pinned there with two rhinestone barrettes. Under the lights, the ebony shine highlighted the sculpted curls and drew the eye.

  Her sultry body, dressed in the two-piece, little black number, prominently displayed her fabulous breasts and her erotically shaped backside. Naughty rhinestone-studded spiked heels seductively displayed her slim legs. And the short skirt finalized the lethal combination.

  “You look fantabulous!” Sam’s eyes glittered his approval. From what Tee could see, he all but drooled down the front of his stuffed shirt.

  Shaking her head, eyes crossed until Grandma caught her and gave her the uh-huh look, Tee made up her mind. What a moron!

  Grandma Evie moved into his space and, with a steely-eyed stare, she forced his attention her way. “You will take care of my granddaughter, and treat her appropriately. She’s been very busy of late and is deserving of this night out. But, on the other hand, she’s overworked herself to the point of exhaustion, and would be well-advised for an early night.”

  Looking shocked at the tone of the older woman, Angelina swept her into a hug and spoke soothingly, “I won’t be late, Abuelita. But don’t wait up.” After she shared hugs with Tee and Rosario and a pat for Peewee, she and Sam left behind three displeased females and one short-toothed, disgusted puppy.

  Speaking for them all, Tee said despairingly, “He’s too smooth and too full of himself. And… he’s not Joe!”

  “My sentiments exactly,” said Grandma Evie, wrapping her arm around the teenager. “Let’s go and have a big mug of hot chocolate and a double hit of marshmallows to cheer us up.”

  “Goodie! I’m your girl.”

  “Awesome!”

  ~*~

  As she sat across from Sam in one of Victoria’s exclusive dining rooms, Angelina admitted she was enjoying the indulgence. The restaurant, swanky and very expensive, had dark paneling, huge green plants to give patrons some privacy and a large mirrored bar as the main focus. The décor screamed exclusivity, with no expense spared for customer service. Right from the many windows overlooking the Marina, to the snowy linens showing off the gourmet food and modern squared white plates decorated by a master chef, Angelina felt pampered.

  Sam ordered a bottle of expensive wine with a suave pretentiousness that left her cold. After all, she came from a land where ordering wine was a daily occurrence. Aside from that, Sam proved to be a courteous and talkative charmer.

  Angelina’s biggest defense against her lifetime of shyness was to ask a lot of questions and put the spotlight on the other person. Except for the hours she’d spent with Joe at the beach, her normal course was to sit back, listen and hide. Only her fantasy lover, with eyes the color of lush green velvet, had rendered her weak with enough lust and hope that she’d opened up to him.

  “How is your father?” Angelina asked during his first lull. “I was worried about him when you left the office today. He looked terribly defeated somehow.”

  “I believe he’s broken-hearted more than anything. He didn’t tell you himself because he was too ashamed, but the person who created this whole disaster, stealing from the company and lying to him, was my young half-sister, Bree.”

  “Oh, no! I am very, very sorry. No wonder he looked so devastated. Disillusionment is hard to bear, but when your own child is responsible, it must be simply unbearable.”

  “A couple of years after my mother died, my father re-married and Bree was born. Both he and his new wife were ecstatic. By then, I was in my pre-teens, lived most of the year in a private school and was pretty much self-sufficient. Being their only child, they doted on her—to her detriment.”

  “How sad!”

  “It is sad. I must admit that I’ve always found her to be pampered and willfully selfish. We’ve never gotten along, and now with this betrayal, we never will.”

  “I’m so glad you’ve come home to help Nathan through this terrible time.”

  “Yes, I’ve promised him I would look after the business until he’s ready to return. What makes matters worse, he’s alone again. My stepmother passed away last year.”

  “Oh no!” Angelina felt blessed when she thought of how her own life held no comparison.

  “My father believes that Bree lost control with her gambling and bad behavior about that time. Before then, she was Momma’s little girl, and had more restraint.”

  “The poor girl needs help.”

  “You mean, the spoiled brat. One of the conditions of us not calling in the police was that she had to agree to visits with a counselor who my father has been in touch with. As disillusioned as he is, he told me that no matter what she’s done, she’ll always be his daughter, and he’ll always try and help her. I only hope it isn’t too little too late.”

  “I don’t believe it’s ever too late when it’s a person you love who’s in need.”

  “I wouldn’t put my money on it. However, he’s adamant and wouldn’t listen to reason.”

  “Your father mentioned earlier you had returned from overseas?”

  “Yes I was in London, working for a large law firm. It was an interesting job, one I enjoyed. When they offered me a full partnership, it was about the same time that a family friend called about Father’s failing health. After this fiasco, I’m glad I turned them down and came home instead. What about you? Have you always lived in Victoria?”

  “No, I was born here, but raised in Chile. I moved back not quite three years ago to live with my grandmother, and eventually I opened my own business.”

  “I’m very glad you’re here. Sorry it was under such unpleasant circumstances that we met.” Ruefully he shook his head. “But I’m exceedingly grateful we did.”

  His penetrating gaze tried to capture her darting eyes but discomfort left her flinching and not able to sustain his probing. His hands reached for hers to still their fretful fidgeting.

  “I can’t believe how lucky I am,” he said. “Meeting you seems like Fate is working in my favor. I hope we can spend many hours together, learning more about each other.”

  Lulled by the charismatic character and good looks of the guy, Angelina smiled and was charmed.

  ~*~

  That wasn’t the case for Joe, who, at that moment, entered the restaurant with Lee. He stayed long enough to see the cozy couple holding hands in the seductive, low-lit atmosphere of the opulent venue. Long enough to feel the gut-wrenching rush of adrenaline that made a man want to kick ass. Long enough to clench his teeth, his hands, his temper, wheel around and storm out. “You want to eat there, buddy, you’ll eat alone. I don’t like this joint.”

  Lee responded, “I couldn’t agree more.”

  Joe stopped his head-long rush and pointed his finger at Lee. “Not one word.” His tone grated, raspy and full of malice. None was directed toward Lee who stood nodding, his eyes full of contrition and his overly-large ears reddening in commiseration.

  Chapter 56

  Knowing one is an ass takes a certain amount of self-examination, but changing your ass-like ways took skills Joe didn’t want to use or acknowledge. Honesty, clear thinking and of course principles were a few of them. He knew Angelina had to come first. She wasn’t a slutty girl with loose morals, a one or two-night smorgasbord of lust. She was a
classy woman, and not to be tampered with, not by anybody

  In his brain he knew he had no right to her and he should be happy that she’d found someone to treat her properly. But his body had other ideas. He ached for her something terrible, and as much as he’d tried, he couldn’t turn it off.

  Tied up in knots of sexual visions and fantasies, which in turn had him spending hours each day constantly shifting his groin, trying to find a more comfortable position, he fought to keep his distance. If he came anywhere near the Angel, he knew, without a doubt, he’d be unable to control his hunger.

  Except, every time he thought of their day on the beach, the times she’d treated him like he walked on water, her eyes lighting up when she’d thought he didn’t see, he wanted to be with her more and more.

  His life was in ruins, and not sleeping was adding to his turmoil. He had to do something soon, or go crazy.

  Even his favorite niece, Diana, innocently conspired against him. At last Sunday’s family gathering she’d climbed onto his lap, snuggled in his tentative arms and said, “Uncle Joe, how come you don’t have no little kids for me to play with? You like kids, don’t you?”

  “Of course, sweet thing. I like you so much I think I’ll eat you.” Nibbling at the four-year-old’s tummy provoked peals of laughter, and that had everyone smiling. Diana grabbed his face between her tiny hands and switched on her serious expression. “Uncle Joe, if you like kids, why don’t you get some? Don’t you like mommies? Cause you need a mommy to have childrens, you know?”

  Out of the mouth of a babe came the words of a wise woman. Words no one else in his family would dare to speak, and on a subject no one else would broach. Miraculously, there was a ten-second silence while smothered grins and comically embarrassed grimaces produced nervous laughter.

  The other kids, not sensing the tension, ran through the room breaking the spell. The little inquisitor, having a very short attention span, forgot the question upon seeing the fun the others were having. She launched herself into the melee, and left her poor Uncle Joe shattered.

  A reprieve, he thought, nervously. That was before his imagination betrayed him and formed an image of a tiny, fairy-like creature with her mama’s long black curls and his family’s impressive green eyes.

  Later, at the door before leaving the house, Joe hugged his father. “Dad, thanks for dinner. It was great as usual.”

  “Son, don’t thank me. This is your home. It might not be the house you live in, but it is and always will be your home.”

  “Man, don’t you get tired of having us kids around every weekend? I would think you and Mom must crave downtime from all this hullabaloo of families, children and all our problems and worries.”

  “Every once in a while we feel the need to get away, and so we do. More often than not, we thank the good Lord for our blessings: all six of you and your additions… and your noise.” The patriarch chuckled, his hair almost as dark as Joe’s, his build similar and his greyish-green eyes twinkling.

  Joe had always thought that his family had a unique way of getting along with each other and it stemmed back to his parents and their love for their kids. At times, he’d felt like the odd man out, but then had decided it was because he was the youngest and the only one still single.

  His dad interrupted his thoughts with more insightfulness. “That’s what’s so special about families, son. We’re always there for you and in all ways. If you need someone to talk with, your mother and I are both available. In fact, we can see you’re dealing with a load right now. If we can help—just ask.”

  His father’s final words plagued his thoughts all the way back to his apartment and through the night. Were his bachelor opinions wacky? Did he need to talk with someone, get his mind unfixated on this negativity about relationships and marriage?

  Realistically, he accepted that his disenchantment was a cross to bear. His ornery beliefs, that most women were bottomfeeders, stopped him from having the same happy smile on his face that he’d seen on others. Take Lee, for example. The guy was loopy all the time, glowing, whistling—ridiculously smug.

  Joe thought about his own past. Was he so negative because his first go-around at the marriage game with Sara had turned sour? Nah! What had upset him more was that after she’d married his brother, his sore heart had healed so fast, he’d lost faith in his ability to even recognize the real thing.

  Hours of castigation led him to make a decision. He knew only one reliable source, one person who had the forbearance to put up with his dithering obtuseness, and who would be straight with him, no touchy-feely answers. He dragged his sorry butt out of bed, put on the coffee, and called his mother to make a date.

  “Hey, gorgeous, feel like letting your favorite son take you for lunch?”

  “Who’s speaking please?”

  “Not funny! Don’t be a pain, Mom. I need to talk.”

  “Hey, babe, I’ll make you a deal. You talk and I’ll listen, and then it’ll be my turn to talk but only if you promise to listen with an open mind?”

  “You’re on. So who pays?” He teased her, as was their usual way.

  “You ask, you pay.”

  “Okay, then. The Sticky Wicket at noon. Don’t be late. Wear a pink rose so I’ll recognize you.” He hung up chuckling, feeling lighter than he had in weeks.

  Chapter 57

  Vera, Joe’s mom, swung around to hug her husband who had been listening in on the conversation. They were working together setting the kitchen to rights after the night before when the whole family had been present.

  The morning was their special time of the day. They’d have a leisurely breakfast and read their weekly magazines and newspapers over numerous cups of coffee while spending time in their favorite room of the house. Since he did most of the cooking and she the baking and salads, it was a comfy place for them both.

  “I think your little speech in the hallway last night did the trick. He wants to talk,” said Vera.

  “I’m guessing our little Diana got him thinking also. The gods must be watching. It was perfect timing and the best thing she could have said.”

  “I’ve never been called a god before, but sometimes Grammas can put ideas into little minds, and voilá...!” Vera laughed uproariously at her husband’s flummoxed look.

  ~*~

  Joe, poking at his lasagna, had been nattering on about absolutely nothing.

  “Joe, could you stop with all this big-word malarkey and get to the point of why you asked me here?”

  “I think I’m in LOVE,” he yelled, frustration echoing loud and clear. As soon as he heard the words, acceptance slammed into him like a wrecker’s ball demolishing an old building.

  “Somebody call 911. We have an emergency.” Vera’s eyes twinkled and he saw her actually bite her lip.

  “Take me seriously, Mom. I’m in trouble here.”

  “Joe, love isn’t a disease you can heal with a pill or an infection that antibiotics will miraculously clear way. It’s a miracle. A privilege and a blessing only the most fortunate of us experience. To find someone to love, and, hopefully, who loves you too, should bring you joy.”

  “Then why am I so miserable?”

  “Because you’re a wuss who doesn’t have the sense Mother Nature gave a bird or a bee. Joe, what if you’d met the only woman you ever wanted, only to find out she was already married, or sick with a horrible disease, or someone who doesn’t like men? Than you’d have the right to feel sad.”

  He shook his head despondently. “How could it happen? I don’t want that whole love and marriage thing. ”

  “Joe, to love one another is the way men and women are supposed to feel. Do you remember what I’ve always told you about living your life? The lessons are the cracks and bumps in the road, but how you pass over them and rebuild them is the learning. Son, Angelina’s a beautiful, warm and lovely girl, and if you wait too long someone else might just appear and snatch her right out from under your pinched-up nose.”

  “How
did you know it was Angelina?”

  “You’re kidding, right?”

  Grudgingly, he shrugged, than added, “That’s why I’m here. She was out with some stud the other night, and thinking about it makes me crazy. How can I be so selfish? Not wanting to commit to her myself, but unable to bear the thought of her being with someone else? I’m a self-centered scumbag, Mom, a scared—”

  Cutting in, Vera said, “I know just who can help you straighten out your thinking. I’m calling a crisis meeting tonight with your brothers. Don’t shake your head like that, I’m setting it up right now and all you need to do is tell me what pub you want to meet them at. It’ll be the boys’ night out.”

  Joe smirked. “The question is, how many can get permission from their little women?”

  “Don’t be an ass, Joe. They’ll be there. As long as you don’t chicken out, I have a feeling tonight will be your reckoning, son, and it’s way overdue. I also want you to keep in mind, the only one of my sons who isn’t tremendously, glowingly, ridiculously happy at this moment is you.”

  Chapter 58

  It was a good thing taxis were on the menu tonight, along with a huge platter of red-hot buffalo wings, tacos dripping in salsa with mounds of beef mixed into melted cheese and large platters of fries and gravy.

  The most important items served were the pitchers of beer in weird jugs. Designed to accommodate the liquid on one side and the ice on the other, ensuring cold beer for as long as the ice lasted, the containers were emptied quickly and replenished just as fast. Drops of condensation glistened on the outside of the glass and ran in little rivulets, pooling on the table.

  The blissful waitress kept her eye on the group of handsome men, and straight away spotted any need for refills. Wiping the collected moisture off the table gave her a perfect excuse for getting as close to her male customers as she possibly could.