“Looks that way.”
His father looked at him speculatively. “I like Gwen. She seems very savvy about her profession. I imagine she’s closer to your ideal than one of the girls from home.”
Chris sighed inwardly as he settled back with the toddler sound asleep in his arms. His father had suggested on numerous occasions that it was time to settle down and that maybe he should consider rejoining the family business, visiting back east, and finding a nice Italian girl. It was like something out of a Lifetime made-for-television movie.
“Dad, Texas is my home. I was born here. And yes, she’s pretty close to my ideal.”
“You think she’ll hang around? That you might fit into her world?” The doubt was in his tone. He thought Gwen was out of Chris’s league. Additionally, Gwen wasn’t a quiet, meek girl. His father didn’t think she would stay for the long haul. Chris really didn’t know if she would or not but he didn’t need his father matchmaking for him.
“Dad, I don’t know if she’ll hang around. Or if what we have will last. I can’t read the future. But I know I like her and she likes me. We enjoy spending time with each other.”
His father frowned. “We just want you to be happy. I can’t picture someone like her fitting in with this family. If you found a girl back east, one who was…”
“What?”
“Accepting?”
“Just say it, Dad. You mean more accepting of my appearance, because I don’t have the family good looks in my favor?”
“I wouldn’t put it that harshly. I just think that women like your girlfriend are really big on appearances.”
“That’s a pretty broad brush you’re painting with, Dad. Gwen sees past that.”
“You think so now.”
“I know so,” he replied, raising his voice enough that the baby shifted in his arms.
His father held up a hand in surrender. “I just don’t want to see you get hurt, son. That’s all.”
“At thirty-six years old, I can look out for myself, but thanks, Dad.”
They didn’t speak further and after a few, stilted minutes, Maria claimed Angelina from him and he went in search of his woman. He was feeling just about ready to leave.
He found Julián who told him that Gwen had gone off to talk privately with his mother and grandmother.
“I wonder what they wanted to say.”
“They didn’t look ready to rake her over the coals or anything like that. I heard one of them giggle as they left the room and they seemed almost conspiratorial. I wouldn’t worry, Chris. Here, I just got this from the fridge. I’ll get another,” he said as he handed Chris another beer and exited the room.
Paolo picked that moment to sidle up and level Chris with a doubtful, assessing stare. “What does that broad see in you?” Unsaid was his belief that Chris couldn’t attract a beautiful woman like Gwen.
Not surprised that it was Paolo, because he and Roberto had always conspired together, Chris said, “Oh, I don’t know, asshole. For starters, I think she sees a man who wouldn’t cheat on his woman the way you do. Or maybe she sees a man who will be there for her when she’s in trouble instead of being drunk in a bar while she rushes her baby to the emergency room alone. Or maybe she sees a man who doesn’t mind if she works but won’t force her to work outside the home either. Or”—he shrugged—“she could just see that I’m not an asshole and she likes that about me.” He stepped into Paolo’s space and growled, “And she’s not a broad.”
Paolo bared his teeth and Angelo and Carlo picked that moment to show up and clap hands on their brothers’ shoulders to keep them from going at it. Angelo murmured, “You two fight and Ma is gonna be pissed. Paolo, shut your fucking trap and stop baiting him. Chris, stop letting him get to you.”
Angelo held Chris in such a way that he couldn’t lash out at Paolo very effectively, but he found that he really didn’t have the desire to and relaxed. Angelo was right. Paolo just wanted a scapegoat to distract him from his unhappy life.
His brother released him once Chris relaxed a little more and then Angelo chuckled. “But seriously, what does she see in you?” He asked it in a joking way and Chris took it as intended, as he planted his fist not so gently in Angelo’s gut.
Angelo grunted. “Still got fists like anvils, I swear.”
Chris surveyed the room, inventorying the chaos of children running through, grown-ups talking, pets chasing each other occasionally, and he still didn’t see Gwen.
“Any idea where Ma and Grannie took Gwen off to?”
Angelo shook his head. “I saw Ma and Grannie in the kitchen right before I came in here. They sent me to check on you.”
Julián met his eyes across the living room and he shrugged and walked to the back door to check out there.
Just then, there was a loud yelp and a scuffle in the hallway and then a male exclamation. “Motherfucker!” The living room went as silent as a tomb in time for everyone to hear a thud. “Ow! Ow!”
“Who is cursing in my damned house?” his mother asked as she came scurrying from the kitchen with a big wooden spoon in her hand, followed closely by Grannie.
Everyone raised their hands, smart-asses that they were, and they all moved en masse to crowd the hallway, even the kids. Chris had a sinking feeling as he waded through the sea of chattering, wildly gesticulating family members.
Gwen was squarely at the center of the tumult, looking incredibly pissed and embarrassed. Her eyes searched the crowd until they landed on Chris and then relief filled her gaze. She knelt by Roberto, who was curled into a ball, whining in pain.
“What happened?” he asked softly as he squatted down beside her, although he already knew.
“I stopped in the bathroom for a minute after visiting with your mom and grandmother. When I came out he snuck up behind me in the dark hallway and tickled me hard.”
Disgusted, Chris stood and looked down at his brother and then turned to the men in the crowd “What’d I tell you guys about tickling Gwen? What’d I tell you?”
One of his younger nephews helpfully piped up. “You tol’ ’em that she’d hand ’em their nuts!”
Several people in the group snickered and word filtered through the crowd that Gwen had incapacitated Roberto.
Caterina piped up happily, “Oh, I like her even more now!”
“I told you she could defend herself and that she hates to be tickled.” He turned to Roberto who was now sitting up with blood streaming out of his nose. “What? Did you think you were gonna cure her of her aversion to being tickled, dickhead?”
A little voice whispered, “Ummm! Chris said dickhead.”
His mother indignantly waved the large wooden spoon in her hand. “What have I always told you boys?” Angelo ducked as she gestured with the wooden spoon. “You don’t know your own strength. A tickle should be an embrace, not an attack! Let me through.” She made a fist at Roberto as he sat there, eyes swelling shut, nose puffy, his shirt stained with blood. “You are the worst, Roberto! When you do that it hurts, damn it! Now you got exactly what you deserve. Bah! No wonder you’re still single! You apologize before I lay this across your ass!”
It didn’t matter that Roberto was thirty-seven. Chris knew she’d do it.
More childish murmurings. “Grandma just said ass!” More snickers.
“Ma’s right,” Simone said loudly. “I’m taking self-defense classes like Gwen and the next time one of you jackasses dig your stubby fingers between my ribs I’m kicking your ass!”
Several of the women agreed and Chris sensed an impending mutiny as his father came forward and gently slipped the wooden spoon from his wife’s hand. He looked down at Roberto. “You’ve been gunning for your brother all night. Hell, your whole life. Get up.”
Whimpering in pain and clutching his nuts with one hand and his chest with the other, Roberto complied, barely able to make eye contact.
Chris’s dad continued. “Gwen was our guest and you’ve embarrassed us. If you can’t be gentle
with a woman, you don’t deserve one. You apologize to Gwen and then you apologize to your brother. That’s his girlfriend and you have no business putting your hands on her in any way.” Turning to Gwen, he said, “Gwen, I’m sorry. I’ve been wrong about a few things lately and you’ve helped set me straight.” He glanced at Chris and then peered at her like he was hoping for forgiveness which she gladly gave, hugging him, even though her face was still red from embarrassment.
His dad knocked Roberto in the back of the head and he turned to Gwen. Through his swollen lips he whispered, “I’m sorry, Gwen. It’ll never happen again. I promise.”
His mother started speaking in a rapid stream of Sicilian. Older family members looked shocked and some of them giggled but they all cleared a path for her.
“Is Grandma cussing in Italian?”
“Shush! I’m trying to listen!”
His mother returned to her kitchen where she promptly broke a plate.
Auntie Rosa wisely said, “There, that’ll make her feel better.”
Gwen rubbed her hand as the crowd dispersed and Chris lifted it to inspect her reddened knuckles. After kissing them he shook his head and said, “I warned them all.” He gestured with his thumb at Roberto who was stumbling back to the bathroom to inspect the damage. “Somehow I knew he would be the one who would disregard my warning.”
“I feel terrible but he scared the ever-living shit out of me.”
“I can imagine,” he murmured as he wrapped his arms around her comfortingly. “Don’t you dare feel bad for this. He had it coming for not listening.”
Angelo came up to them and grinned at Gwen. “Good going, little Rocky. I’m gonna check his nose. Dad said he was pretty sure it was broken.”
Gwen got a pained look in her eyes and nodded. “It’s definitely broken.”
Grannie came down the hallway and reached for Gwen so Chris released her and let her hug her. Gwen was average height for a woman and she towered over Grannie. “Angelina told me what that”—She went off into a nice long stream of indignant Sicilian that was intended for the asshole inspecting the damage done to his pretty face before she continued in English—“what he did to you. He got what he deserved. When my husband and I were newlyweds, he was a little overzealous in that way. Sometimes I was even sore from his tickling. He persisted no matter what I said.”
“What did you do?”
“I cooked calf liver, which I knew he didn’t care for, every day for a week. On the second night he complained, and each night after that. At the end of the week he begged me, ‘Why do you keep serving me liver every night when you know I don’t like it?’ and I said, ‘Ah-hah!’ He understood and he never tickled me hard like that ever again. He said he loved me and he just didn’t realize he was hurting me. That’s not to say he didn’t goose my bottom occasionally.” She shared a conspiratorial giggle with Gwen and they hugged once more. She continued down the hall where she had a few more choice words for Roberto and then she called him a “brute.”
Julián joined them as Chris grinned down at his woman and said, “Ready for ginger ale yet?”
“Well, the ‘ginger ale’ I don’t really need, but I am up for a little dancing at The Pony if you’re both still in the mood.”
“Hmm,” Julián said softly. “In the mood to have you pressed against us, dancing the night away—we’ll never not be in the mood for that, love.”
It took about an hour to kiss and hug and say good-bye to everyone. His sisters wanted to know what kind of self-defense technique Gwen had used and his mother wanted to make sure that Gwen was all right and not scared off by Roberto’s bad behavior.
Paolo got in a snide remark to Chris about him needing women to fight his battles for him and somehow wound up with his forehead smacked against one of the kitchen cabinets. He’d kept his mouth closed after that.
Grannie wanted Chris to bring Gwen back for Easter. Gwen smiled and nodded but didn’t give her an answer. Easter fell that year at the end of March.
When Chris left the family gathering it was with a decidedly lighter heart than he usually had. It’d felt good to express himself to his family members, and he knew that for far too long he’d let their comments and ribbing go because he didn’t want to upset his mother.
His father had also apologized to him privately for possibly misjudging Gwen. There was no doubt she could hold her own with his family as far as he was concerned. The rest he said was none of his business.
After helping Gwen into the truck they got on the road headed back to Divine.
Curiosity finally got the better of Chris. “Where did you, Ma, and Grannie get off to this evening?”
“I think that was the highlight of the whole visit, for me, at least,” she replied as she sat in the front passenger seat. “I think your mother and grandmother wanted to have mercy on me. They must’ve seen that I was feeling overwhelmed and they said they wanted to show me something. I found out what your full first name is.”
“It’s Christiaan, with two A’s.”
“I know, and now I know why, too.”
Now he was really curious.
“Angelina took me back to their bedroom and she and her mother got out what I thought at first was an old photo album. It turned out to be just one picture in an old leather easel-back portfolio that you could open up to put the picture on display.”
“Who was the picture of?”
“It was a picture of your Grannie’s grandfather, taken when he was about your age, in 1908.”
“Really? I don’t think I’ve ever seen it, or if I have I’ve forgotten about it. Was it cool?”
“Cool? Yeah. And surreal. If I’d ignored the dated apparel and setting, and the fact that the picture is obviously very old, I would’ve sworn I was looking at a picture of you. Your Grannie said she was right there when you were born and she recognized his features in you. I about died when she told me that rumor had it her grandfather was hung like a horse. We all had a good laugh about how in the world she could possibly know something like that. Your mother remembers him when he was an older man and verified that you were a chip off the old block, if the rumors were correct, in the anatomical sense. He was very much beloved in your family. She and your Grannie were both so happy that at least one of the children had taken after her side of the family that they both cried.”
Chris frowned. “She told me she cried when I was born.”
Gwen sniffled and replied, “Yes, she did.”
“She never showed me that picture that I can recall. I knew I was named after him but not that I looked all that much like him. I must not have been listening.”
He glanced over and caught Gwen wiping a tear from her eye. “Both she and Angelina also told me that they could recall hanging on him and crawling up in his lap just the same way the kids in the family do with you now.”
“Don’t cry, darlin’.”
Gwen sniffled and let out a sob, then fanned her face. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I’m so emotional about it all of a sudden.” She hiccupped and wiped her nose as Julián leaned forward and caressed her arm. “It just all felt so…intimate. To have details like that shared with me. It made me…”
Chris got worried. “Uncomfortable?”
“No! What they shared with me was precious. It made me sad.”
Chris rubbed her thigh, wishing he knew what to do or say. “I’m sorry.”
She gave him a watery smile. “I’m not. It just made me sad that I’m leaving. I won’t be there at Easter.” The soft cry that tore from her with the last word just about broke his heart. She thanked Julián for his handkerchief when he handed it to her and blotted her tearstained cheeks.
“My family is a lot to take in all at once. It’s been overwhelming even for me. Do you want to go straight home?”
Gwen smiled at him as she blotted and said, “Not on your life, Captain Caveman. You and Julián promised me a dance.”
Chapter Fifteen
Julián tipped th
e tall glass of draft beer to his lips and then murmured, “Well, this is awkward, isn’t it?”
He made eye contact with Chris, who looked way too fucking amused. Gwen looked like she wanted to hide under the table.
The Dancing Pony’s New Year’s Eve Bash was in high gear. The club was packed nearly to capacity, the music was pounding as partygoers filled the dance floor, and their waitress had just delivered their drinks to the table they were sitting at along with several of their friends.
Hatch Dunlap had sauntered in the front door on his bowlegs just a few moments earlier. The bull riding cowboy had made it clear to Julián several years before in Laramie, Wyoming, on the day Julián met her that he’d already staked a claim on Gwen. He’d made it obnoxiously clear that she was “his woman,” which had been embarrassing for both of them.
When Gwen had recognized him, she’d groaned like she was in pain and leaned back so that Chris body-blocked her, as though hoping Hatch wouldn’t see her.
As if that wasn’t enough of a blast from their pasts, Gwen’s eyes had bulged as she’d noticed the bleached blonde who had strutted in with Hatch, dressed in a fashionable western minidress and tall cowgirl boots, followed by two other cowboys who looked to be with them. “Is that—”
Julián had squinted at the blonde and then wished that he could hide behind Chris too. “Holy crap. We just can’t catch a break here. I thought she was a redhead.”
“I thought she was a brunette. Who knows,” Gwen snorted. “She changes hair color like she changes men.” Julián felt his innards shrivel a little. Crap. Crap. Crap.
Chris grinned crookedly and a slow, hearty chuckle rumbled from him as he sipped his beer. “I take it that it’s our night to play ‘This Is Your Sorry Life.’ I’m so fucking ready for this year to get it over with and move on.”
Julián agreed with the sentiment wholeheartedly. “What’s Judith Bowers doing all the way down here? I thought she was from North Dakota.”
“Maybe she got tired of the snow?” Chris suggested as Gwen rose from her seat.
Tangled in Divine [Divine Creek Ranch 14] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) Page 22
