Love Around the Corner

by Amanda Weaver

  “No, a warehouse fire a few months before that.” He glanced at Gemma again. Nope, she wasn’t going to step in to derail them. She wasn’t kidding about an inquisition. The Romanos were relentless, in their kind, gentle way. Alex and Nick were utterly silent, keeping their eyes fixed on their food, seemingly relieved not to be in the hot seat.

  “Have you ever been married?” Livie asked.

  “Livie—” Jessica interjected.

  “What? At his age, it’s a valid question.”

  “Okay, I’m getting Jess another drink,” Alex said, pushing to his feet.

  She looked up at him. “But I don’t need—”

  “I’ll join you,” Nick said, standing too.

  Brendan finally sensed an escape. “Me, too. Gem, another champagne?”

  She finally looked up at him, the corner of her mouth twitching with a smile. “Sure. Thanks.”

  He squeezed her shoulder briefly before following Alex and Nick to the bar.

  “Sorry about that, man,” Nick said. “We’ve been there.”

  “At least you didn’t have to declare your favorite sports team in front of a room full of Romano men,” Alex said, shaking his head. “I didn’t think I was getting out of there alive when I said I didn’t like football. At least I like the right baseball team.”

  “Who’s your team?” Brendan asked cautiously.

  Alex scoffed. “The Mets. Are you kidding?”

  Brendan let out a breath. “Well, that’s one hurdle passed.”

  Nick laughed and clapped him on the shoulder. “See? You’ll be fine. Welcome to the Romanos.”

  Chapter Thirty

  “So he’s cute,” Jess said when the men had departed and Teresa had dragged Dad off to look at the spectacular floral display at the front of the ballroom.

  “Glad you think so.”

  “You’ve known him since high school, huh?”

  “That’s what we said.” She should have known they’d jump all over Brendan. Well, she had known, she just hadn’t quite imagined how relentless her sisters would be with their inquisition.

  “And you guys just ran into each other again after all these years?” Livie asked.

  “He came into the bar.”

  “Is it serious?” she pressed.

  “Oh my God! Listen to the two of you!”

  “Hey, you grilled me about Alex.”

  “And you lectured me about Nick.”

  “That’s because I’m the big sister. It’s my job.” She was used to looking out for her sisters, sizing up anyone they got close to. It felt strange when they did the same. Strange, but also kind of nice, if she was being honest.

  “When we’re all adults, you don’t get to pull the big sister card anymore,” Jess said. “We’re just sisters.”

  “So is it serious?” Livie asked again.

  “It just started. I don’t know yet.” But she hoped. Oh, how she was hoping.

  “He seems pretty serious about you,” Livie commented.

  Jess turned away from Gemma. “I know. Did you see the way he looks at her? Hot.”

  “Very. Do you think they’ve—”

  Gemma pushed to her feet. “That’s enough speculation from the two of you.” No way was she sticking around to get grilled about her sex life, and that seemed like where this was headed. “I’m going to the ladies’ room.”

  As she walked away from the table, Jess and Livie erupted in laughter. “Fine, laugh it up, you two!” she called back over her shoulder.

  Gemma visited the ladies’ room long enough to touch up her makeup, but decided she needed a break from being the center of attention at the Romano table. A towering floral arrangement in one corner of the ballroom provided cover where she could check out the glittering guests eating the two-hundred-dollar-a-plate dinner she’d chosen for Mariel. She’d checked in with Tara early on, and she knew it was all in good hands, but she still wanted to see people’s faces as they tasted the food.

  Everybody seemed to be enjoying it, remarking over one dish or another. At a smaller table at the head of the room, Dan and Mariel sat with their heads together, talking and laughing, dinner forgotten, as it should be.

  “Here you are.”

  Gemma startled as her father leaned on the other side of the giant urn full of flowers, hands in his pockets.

  “Just looking around. It’s beautiful, huh?”

  “It’s quite a party, that’s for sure. Food’s delicious.”

  “These guys are in another class altogether than those outfits Kendra sent me to. They’re real chefs. This food is like art.”

  Dad smiled at her. “You sound excited.”

  She shrugged. “It was kind of fun, seeing how they put it together. It doesn’t come cheap, though. You wouldn’t believe what this is costing.”

  “Dan can afford it.”

  “Ten times over.”

  They fell into a comfortable silence, just watching the elegant, well-dressed guests laughing and mingling as dinner wrapped up and people got to their feet.

  Dad drew in a deep breath. “Was it him?”

  “Was what who?”

  “The summer after your mom died. Something happened to you. Was it Brendan leaving?”

  Gemma turned to him in shock, feeling her blood turn cold. “What are you talking about, Dad?”

  “Come on, Gem. I know I was a mess back then, but I didn’t miss everything. That spring, you’d been doing okay. Better than the rest of us. You seemed...alive again. I figured you were just better at coping, maybe you’d bounced back faster than your sisters. Then school ended and you just weren’t yourself. It was like the light had gone out in you.”

  She opened her mouth to respond but nothing would come. Her throat felt too tight for words. She’d tried so hard to hide her devastation when Brendan left. She was so sure she had. But Dad had seen right through her.

  “I asked you if you were okay a few times, and you always insisted you were fine. I could see that you weren’t, but I didn’t know what to do for you.” He shrugged helplessly. “I figured you were just dealing with your mom in your own way. But it was Brendan, wasn’t it?”

  “Dad, I...”

  “Why didn’t you tell me about him?”

  She sighed and dropped her head. “How could I? We’d just lost Mom. Jess and Livie were still crying themselves to sleep at night.” You were, too, she silently amended. “You were half dead but still working your ass off to keep the bar going. And I was going to drag Brendan home and tell you all I was in love? That I’d met the guy I was going to marry? How could I do that? It would have been so selfish.”

  Dad’s eyes widened. “You were gonna marry him?”

  She closed her eyes and shook her head. “We were kids. We didn’t know what the hell we were talking about. Things got complicated. And then he had to leave.”

  Dad inhaled deeply, rubbing a hand over his face. “There’s nothing selfish about being happy, Gemma.”

  “But not then. Not when everybody needed—”

  “Dammit, for once in your life, quit worrying about what everybody else in this family needs and think about what you want.”

  Her mouth snapped shut. She wasn’t sure she’d ever heard Dad speak with such heat, especially not directed at her. He pushed off the side of the urn and took a step closer, reaching for her and gripping her by the shoulders. “You deserve to be happy, sweetheart. I don’t ever want to stand between you and your happiness again.”

  “You didn’t, Dad.”

  He didn’t reply, but his expression said he didn’t fully believe her. He leaned in, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “I won’t,” he said quietly, almost to himself. Then he released her and backed away. “Go find Brendan and enjoy yourself tonight. You deserve it, kid.”

  “You deserve it, to
o, Dad. Go show Teresa a good time.”

  He smiled awkwardly and waved over his shoulder as he walked away. Her heart ached with love for him. He tried so hard. He’d been trying all his life, and most of the time, barely managing. She wanted him to be happy, more than she even wanted happiness for herself. If anyone deserved it, Dad did.

  “Found you.”

  Brendan stepped around the urn and held out a glass of champagne. “Nobody at the table knew where you’d gotten off to.”

  “Just seeing how the dinner is going.” She left out that unsettling conversation with her dad. She wasn’t sure yet what to make of it. Taking the glass Brendan offered, she took a sip.

  Brendan looked back over his shoulder across the ballroom. “Looks like dinner’s over. The dancing’s started. You ready?”

  “What, to dance?”

  “You’re acting like I just asked if you’re ready for dental surgery.”

  “I’m not much of a dancer.” Another one of those phases of her youth that seemed to have passed her by.

  “Don’t worry, it’s a big band at a wedding, not a rave. Just follow my lead.”

  He ditched their champagne flutes on the tray of a passing server and took her by the hand, leading her down the length of the lavishly decorated ballroom to where the parquet dance floor began. Several couples were already there, swaying as the band played something slow and jazzy and old-fashioned.

  Brendan turned and pulled her into his arms in another smooth-as-silk James Bond move.

  “Okay, smart guy, I’m here. Now show me what to do.”

  “One hand here,” he said, settling her hand on his shoulder. “The other here.” He curled his palm around hers.

  “Now what?”

  “Now we dance.”

  He was right; it wasn’t so hard gently swaying in his arms as he moved them easily in a small circle. The only problem she was having was keeping her head on straight when Brendan was holding her so close, staring down at her with those sexy brown eyes, smiling at her like they shared some intimate secret—it was almost enough to make her swoon. And add to it the lush music, the low golden lights, the glittering couples swaying all around them, and she felt like she’d fallen into a dream.

  “We never got to do this,” Brendan said.

  “What, dance together?”

  “I was going to take you to senior prom.”

  “You were?”

  “Of course. But then...” He shrugged. “I wasn’t even here for it.”

  For a moment, all those old feelings surged again—the hurt, the anger, the betrayal. But letting herself succumb to them was just going to sabotage whatever she and Brendan were trying to do here. It was hard, but she had to push away those knee-jerk emotions.

  She let herself imagine it, for once free of her bitterness, and the image was lovely. Brendan in a tux, her in some terrible prom dress, questionable hairstyles and corsages, all of it preserved for posterity forever by their families.

  “Yeah,” she finally replied. “That would have been nice. Going to prom with you.” She hadn’t gone to hers, either. After Brendan left, there hadn’t seemed much point to any of that stuff.

  He pulled her closer, until his cheek rested against hers, just like in the old song. “Tonight’s pretty good, too,” he murmured, right next to her ear. His breath tickled her earlobe, and her fingers clutched at his shoulders.

  The ballroom, the band, the other couples, seemed to fade away. There was just the two of them, pressed together, caught up between the past and the present.

  Finally, she drew back and looked at him. “Tonight is better than any prom could have been.”

  One of Brendan’s dimples made an appearance as the corner of his mouth tugged up in a smile. “Why’s that?”

  “After prom, you’d have had to bring me home by midnight.”

  Brendan’s eyes lit up with sexy mischief. “Are you saying tonight I get you for the whole night?”

  She hadn’t spent an entire night with him yet. It felt too intimate, too big. But now there was nothing else she’d rather do. Sex, yes, absolutely. Lots of sex. But also, everything that might come after sex. She wanted to lose herself in Brendan’s tenderness, she wanted to fall asleep in his arms, let him hold her all night, and she wanted to wake up to his face in the morning.

  “You get me for as long as you want me,” she whispered.

  The look he gave her left her weak in the knees. “Are you really in the mood for cake and coffee?”

  She shook her head, then fished her phone out of her little sparkly purse and typed out a message to Jess and Livie.

  Leaving early.

  Jess texted back right away.

  Enjoy it.

  Livie texted back, too.

  Nick and I are going to see Jess’s new place after the reception. Won’t be home tonight. Dad’s going to Teresa’s tonight. Just so you know.

  So Livie was now her sexual wingman. That was new.

  “Everything okay?”

  “Everything’s great.”

  A slow grin curled his lips and he slid a hand down her arm until he could grasp her hand. “Good. Let’s go.”

  * * *

  They were mostly silent on the drive back to Brooklyn. The air in the car absolutely hummed with sexual awareness. All Gemma wanted to do was to climb over the gearshift, straddle Brendan’s lap, take him by that pretty silver tie, and kiss him senseless. The look he shot her as he shifted gears told her he was imagining the same thing. He finally tore his gaze away, staring straight ahead through the windshield and exhaling heavily.

  As he navigated the streets of Lower Manhattan, shifting gears as he made his way toward the Battery Tunnel, the muscles of his thighs shifted in the most distracting way underneath those thin black wool pants. And watching his hand wrap around the gearshift was nearly an erotic experience.

  “Nice car,” she murmured. Jesus, where did that whiskey-rasp sex voice come from?

  “That’s what you said the other times you were in it.”

  Ugh. Her brain had gone to absolute mush, decimated by lust.

  Brendan angled a smile at her, reaching out and resting a hand on her knee, his fingertips brushing lightly against the inside of her thigh. A shudder of longing raced through her, and she swallowed hard to control it.

  As Brendan crossed into Brooklyn, he looked over at her. “Your place or mine?”

  She could take him home, if she wanted. Nobody was there. And even if someone were, for the first time, they all knew about Brendan. He was officially her boyfriend. She could bring him home, take him upstairs, and make love to him in her own bed. They’d never done that, not even in high school.

  But while that felt symbolic and significant and all, her bed was just a double with a saggy spot in the middle, and Brendan’s was a gloriously comfortable king size. She’d bring him home and christen her bed with him some other time.

  “Yours.”

  * * *

  Her nerves flared bright when Brendan shut the apartment door behind her. Ridiculous. How many times had they had sex since he’d come back? Even since that night in the park when they started toeing tentatively into a relationship? Lots. So why did tonight feel different?

  Because they were real. No matter what they’d done behind closed doors, bringing him into her family made it real in a way nothing else would. Which made this, oddly, feel like the first time.

  “Is it weird that I’m nervous?” Brendan said, breaking the silence.

  She let out a huff of laughter, turning to face him. “Me too.”

  He reached up to rub a hand across the back of his neck. “Maybe we should have a glass of wine? We could watch a movie?”

  His suggestion was adorable, but unnecessary. She might be nervous, but she knew what she wanted, and that was Brendan. Crossing
to him, she laid her hands on his chest. “I think we can figure it out as we go.”

  Then she leaned up and kissed him, sliding one hand up around the back of his neck to bring his face to hers. Brendan’s hands found her hips, tugging her closer. They kissed until her knees felt wobbly and her nipples felt tender. Then she gently pushed away and turned her back to him. Dragging her hair over her shoulder, she looked back over her shoulder at him. “I think you’d better help me with this zipper.”

  The air thrummed between them as he reached for the top of her zipper. She held her breath, fighting back a tremor as he eased it down and the cool air hit her skin. When he’d lowered it all the way, she turned around to face him again.

  She reached for the shoulders, but Brendan stopped her hands. “Let me.” There was a low, ragged hint of command in his voice that went straight to her sex. She dropped her hands and held still.

  Slowly, he reached out and grasped the shoulders of her dress, and just as slowly, he dragged them down her arms, over the edge of her black lace bra, down over her hips, and down her thighs. When it lay in a pool around her feet, he reached a hand up for hers, steadying her as she stepped out of it.

  He took his time straightening back up, running his palms up the outsides of her calves and thighs, over her hips, and up her torso as he rose. By the time he was standing in front of her again, she was wet. And practically shaking. How did he do that to her?

  “Turn around.” Another gruff command. She did as she was told.

  His fingertips brushed against her back as he undid the hooks of her bra and tossed it away. Before she could turn back, his hands slid around to the front, cupping her breasts, rolling her nipples. She moaned and fell back against his chest. He toyed with her until she was squirming, and then he slid his palm down her stomach and slipped a hand between her thighs, cupping her over her panties.

  All she wanted to do was grind herself against his hand until she came, but he was still fully dressed in a suit and tie behind her and that seemed criminal.

  “My turn,” she murmured, turning in his arms.

  Brendan smiled, holding his arms out to the sides. “I’m entirely yours. Do what you want.”