Awaken My Heart

by Maria K. Alexander

  “Yup, homemade pizzelles. It’s the one thing I can make while sitting on my widening ass,” Kate said.

  “I love your bum,” Nick’s brother-in-law, Edward, murmured as he pressed into the kitchen with Lucas trailing behind them.

  Nick dropped his arm from Ashley’s shoulders but not before Kate noticed and gave him an eyebrows-up look. Yeah, she’d be asking him lots of questions later.

  Introductions were exchanged.

  “Where’s my new cousin, Uncle Nick? Does he like video games? I brought my chess set in case he wants to play.”

  In his usual fashion, Lucas strung three thoughts in one long breath. Nick hugged his nephew, realizing he missed Sean’s elementary-school years where kids said whatever was on their mind.

  “Sean’s in the family room. Why don’t you see if he wants to play? Ashley says he’s competed in chess tournaments in school,” Nick said.

  Lucas’s eyes widened. “Wow, you can do that?”

  “When you get older, sport.” Edward ruffled his hair and led him out of the room.

  “Where’s Mama?” Kate asked.

  “She’s upstairs getting changed,” Vicky said.

  “Changed for what?” Kate’s eyes widened. “Don’t tell me she’s getting dressed up.”

  “She’s getting changed because I accidentally spilled water on her,” Ashley said.

  “Oh good, you’ll fit right in here. It’s not a DiFrancesco Sunday afternoon dinner if someone doesn’t drop food or knock a glass over,” Kate said.

  “Last week, it was Lucas, and it happened as soon as we sat down to eat. Ma insisted on changing the table cloth so the pad underneath didn’t get wet,” Vicky added.

  “If it wasn’t for Edward’s quick hands, the stuffed shells would have been covered in apple juice,” Nick said.

  “That’s my man.” Kate rubbed her belly. “Speaking of food, what’s Mama making today? Is it her lasagna? Her grandchildren are craving it.”

  Nick tugged Kate’s hair. “A fetus can’t crave food, runt.” Moving across the room, Nick opened the oven door. “You called it. Lasagna it is.”

  “You didn’t tell Ma about Sean’s milk allergy?” Vicky asked.

  Hell. In all the chaos of the past couple days, he hadn’t remembered to mention it.

  Nick wiped a hand down his face. “It slipped my mind.” Again.

  “Milk allergy?” Kate inquired.

  “Sean’s allergic to milk,” Ashley explained.

  “That’s going to put a kink in Mama’s dinner plans.” Kate elbowed Nick. “Way to go, champ. Let’s get a pot out to boil water for macaroni.”

  “What about Ma’s gravy? If she has meatballs in it, they’ll have cheese,” Vicky said.

  Nick walked to the stove top, where a huge pot of his mother’s gravy simmered. Even when he had a chance for a fresh start, he managed to screw it up. He lifted the lid and saw the tops of the meatballs bobbing along the surface. Nope, luck was not on his side today.

  For the second time in a week, Nick was pressed to improvise. “I’ll make a marinara. Vick, can you see if there’s any sausage in the freezer?”

  “Please don’t go through any extra effort. Sean and I don’t need to eat,” Ashley said.

  “Are you kidding? Not eating is not an option in the DiFrancesco house.” Kate waddled across the room and grabbed a cutting board and knife.

  “Who isn’t eating?” his mother said as she walked into the kitchen.

  Nick cast a glance at his sisters. He needed to do something to gain traction on the afternoon.

  “A slight addition to today’s menu, Ma. I’ll explain. Come into the family room and visit with Sean while the ladies finish up.” Nick nodded to Ashley to stay with his sisters.

  Nick steered his mother from the room. He had damage control to do.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Ashley rested her head against the headrest of Nick’s SUV and closed her eyes. The afternoon went into the record book for the longest ever. She hadn’t thought she’d make it through dinner, but between Nick and his sisters, they’d managed to salvage the meal.

  Who knew explaining to an Italian mother her grandson had a milk allergy could be so traumatic?

  Did it matter how Sean had gotten the allergy or from which gene pool it came from?

  No, Ashley wasn’t aware of any allergy on her side of the family because Carmen was certain it hadn’t come from the DiFrancesco side.

  Yet another mark against Ashley.

  It didn’t seem to be an issue that Sean had the allergy as much as Carmen hadn’t known and almost everything she prepared had cheese on or in it.

  Really, who ate that much cheese? Even the vegetables had cheese on them.

  “Are you okay?” Nick asked.

  Ashley opened her eyes and looked at his razor-stubbled profile. How did the man manage to look drop-dead sexy after an afternoon like they’d just had?

  “I’m exhausted. How do you keep up with all the simultaneous conversations? I don’t think I heard all of any one story,” Ashley said.

  Nick laughed. “You get used to it. What did you think, Sean?”

  “It was great,” Sean said. “I can’t wait until next time.”

  Ashley stifled a groan and rested her head against the seat once again. Sean’s endorsement of the family managed to make Ashley feel more like the odd woman out.

  “It was nice of Vicky to make a milk-free cake for Sean. It tasted better than any of the cakes I’ve made,” Ashley said.

  “Your cakes are good, too, Mom.”

  Her ability to bake was marginally better than cooking, which wasn’t saying a lot. Still, Vicky’s cake beat Ashley’s, hands-down.

  “My mother had all of us baking at early ages. At Christmas, we’d each pick a cookie we wanted her to make and we’d help her. Of course, Vicky always wanted to one-up all of us. Wait until you see her homemade gingerbread houses.”

  “Everyone was nice and welcoming,” Ashley said.

  “I’m sorry I forgot to prepare Ma about the milk allergy. We’ll have it covered next time,” Nick said.

  “The sauce Aunt Vicky and Aunt Kate made was good.”

  “I tried to pay attention to what they were doing, but they don’t measure any ingredients and move fast,” Ashley said.

  “Our recipes are up here.” Nick tapped the side of his head. “At best you get a list of ingredients and you judge how much to use. A lot of times we improvise to change things up a bit,” Nick said.

  “Grandpa Joe said he’d give me a tour of the kitchen at the restaurant. Is that where Uncle Vinnie was?” Sean asked.

  Nick pulled into her driveway and put the car in park. “Uncle Vinnie worked an early shift at the restaurant. Hopefully, he’ll be there next time.”

  The words were spoken calmly, but Ashley noticed the way Nick’s hands tightened on the steering wheel and his jaw tensed.

  What was that about?

  “Can you show me how to break in my new glove?” Sean clutched the bag from the sporting goods store where Nick had insisted on stopping to outfit him for softball.

  “I can if it’s okay with your mom,” Nick said.

  “Sure,” Ashley said.

  With a cheer, Sean opened the door and bolted for the house.

  Nick’s hand reached for hers when she started to open the door. “Is your dad home? There’s something work-related I need to talk with him about.”

  Ashley furrowed her brow. “Yes, he should be home. I’ll see if he’s available.”

  “Thanks.”

  Nick continued to clasp her fingers, causing tingles to spread along her arm and embarrassingly enough, to her breasts.

  “I’m glad Sean’s excited about softball,” Nick said.

  Ashley bit her lower lip. She barely had a moment to absorb the idea of Sean playing softball. Now he had equipment, and the reality of it hit her.

  “What’s wrong?” Nick asked.

  “What makes you thin
k anything’s wrong?”

  “You bite your lower lip when you’re nervous.”

  Damn his observant cop eye. Ashley looked out the window of the car, aware Sean had disappeared into the house, leaving her and Nick alone.

  “Are you certain he’s ready to play? What if he gets hit by the ball or hits someone when he throws it?”

  Nick squeezed her hand. “I can’t promise it won’t ever happen, but I’ll teach him so he’s prepared. If it’s okay with you, I thought we could practice during the week.”

  “Fine, but schoolwork needs to come first.” She tried to remove her hand, but it was firmly entrapped in his. She stared at his olive-colored skin, several shades deeper than hers. A light sprinkling of dark brown hair covered his knuckles, making his skin look even darker.

  “Let me know which days work, and I’ll check my schedule.” He leaned forward, and she was aware of how close he was to her.

  Too close.

  Yet not close enough.

  “Thanks for coming to my parents’ today with Sean. I know it wasn’t easy.”

  The front seat suddenly seemed crowded, Nick’s large body seeming to take up the entire space. His musky scent filled her nostrils, a flashback to the past.

  She swallowed hard. “It was awkward at first, but we managed. What’s the real reason your brother wasn’t there?”

  The hand covering hers tensed. “I’m not sure what Vin’s deal is. His girlfriend broke up with him earlier this year. I think he was about to propose.”

  “That must have been rough.”

  “Vin likes to brood in general, and it’s worse since the breakup. Then I show up with another kid.”

  “Everyone mourns differently and at a different pace. It’s a process, and it may take Vinnie a little longer to get over this girl and to adjust to him being an uncle again.”

  “True, which is why I’m letting him be.”

  A knock at the window startled her. Sean had returned in full softball attire and motioned for them to get out of the car.

  Ashley laughed. “I’ve never seen him so excited.”

  “I’m glad.” With another squeeze of her hand and smile, Nick opened his door. She heard the lift gate open and close.

  She stepped out of the car and saw Nick had grabbed his own glove. Walking alongside Sean, with their dark heads and long, lean physique, it was easy to tell they were father and son.

  Sean laughed, and Ashley realized there were going to be things he shared with Nick that she couldn’t relate to. She pushed back the prick of jealousy. What did she expect? She couldn’t keep Sean in a bubble. Hadn’t she done so his entire life?

  Because of the secret, she had to be ready to explain why Sean’s dad wasn’t in the picture. Whether at a school function or while trying to socialize with other parents in the neighborhood, the question of Sean’s father always managed to come up. Each time Ashley retold the lie, she submerged herself deeper in the web of deception she’d fabricated.

  Unraveling herself from the deceit—and the guilt—was more difficult than she’d imagined. How did she do so and not lose her son to the man and family he’d always dreamed of?

  And even more worrisome…how did she not lose her heart to the same man?

  ****

  “Hey, you two. Want something to drink?” Ashley called out the back door an hour later.

  Nick jogged behind Sean and reached for the water bottle Ashley held out. “Thanks. You must have been reading my mind.” He opened the cap and chugged half the contents.

  “Thanks, Mom. Can I have a snack?” Sean asked.

  At Ashley’s nod, Sean ran inside.

  “I think he must be getting ready for another growth spurt because I swear he eats every half hour,” Ashley said.

  “He’s at the age. I remember eating my parents out of the house. At least that’s what my Mom always told me,” Nick said.

  She nodded at the glove and ball. “How’s he doing?”

  “Not bad for a rookie. He’s got good eye-hand coordination for throwing. It’s the batting where he’s struggling.”

  “Practice will help,” Ashley said.

  “I have a special net to help kids practice their batting in small spaces. We use it during warm-ups. I’ll bring it next time.”

  Nick figured he could also bring Sean to the batting cages. Maybe bring Joey, too. But he’d take things in small steps for now.

  “My dad’s free if you want to talk to him,” Ashley said.

  She’d changed from her skirt into jeans and a dark blue long-sleeved T-shirt. The denim molded to her frame, showcasing long legs and the gentle curve of her hips. Although she wore the shirt out, it hugged her waist and cupped the swells of her breasts. She’d taken her hair down, and it hung around her shoulders in a long panel of blonde.

  The urge to touch it and see if it was as silky smooth as he remembered propelled him forward, but before he had the chance, Ashley turned and headed to the house.

  “Follow me,” she said.

  He watched the rounded curve of her ass and swing of her hips disappear inside the house and wondered how he’d make it through the conversation with her father with Ashley in the room. Nick downed the rest of the water, hoping the coolness would help bank the desire.

  Inside, he trailed behind Ashley as she headed to a small room off the living room set-up as an office. Ashley’s dad sat behind a desk that held a computer.

  “Hi, Mr. O’Neil. Thanks for taking the time,” Nick began and reached out his hand.

  “I saw you and Sean out back. He’s talked so much about yesterday’s game, I feel as though I was there,” Mr. O’Neil said.

  “We play every other Saturday at St. Vincent’s Orphanage if you want to swing by,” Nick said.

  “I may take you up on that.” Mr. O’Neil gestured to one of the chairs in front of the desk. “Have a seat, and tell me how I can help you.”

  When Ashley sat next to him, he considered asking her to leave but figured she had a right to know.

  “I’ve been working a drug-trafficking case the past eight months. We ID’d a main pusher and were able to convince him to help us. Unfortunately, our guy screwed up and got himself killed,” Nick supplied.

  “What’s that have to do with my dad?” Ashley asked.

  “Before our mole kicked it, he gave us a lead we’ve connected to one of the area high schools.” Nick pulled up an image on his smartphone. “An undercover detective took this photo with our snitch.” He pointed to the blurry image of a kid. “The face isn’t fully visible, but we had the mark on his jacket enhanced and enlarged.”

  He slid to the next image and held it out to Ashley’s father. His brow furrowed as he studied the picture.

  Mr. O’Neil passed the phone to Ashley. “You think this emblem is the one from my school.”

  “I do. Before our snitch died he told us something that leads us to believe a school that has a ram as mascot is involved,” Nick said.

  “Chartwell Academy can’t be the only school in the area with a ram for a mascot,” Ashley said.

  “It’s not. But that in combination with the emblem on the jacket puts Chartwell Academy at the top of the list,” Nick said.

  From the tightness of Ashley’s lips, Nick suspected she wasn’t pleased with this conclusion.

  “I wouldn’t be telling you this if I didn’t think Chartwell is somehow connected,” Nick said.

  “What do you need?” Mr. O’Neil asked.

  “We want to place two undercover detectives in the school. Preferably as a student and a member of the staff,” Nick said.

  “You think one of the staff could be involved?” Mr. O’Neil asked.

  “It’s possible. We’d like a list of all the staff and students so we can look closer at each one,” Nick said. “It would also help if you could share anything you’re aware of students who’ve complained about issues in the home or financial issues.”

  “Don’t all the kids come from wealthy fa
milies, Daddy?” Ashley said.

  “That doesn’t mean the kids have money. Maybe one of them is looking for a new sports car and Mommy or Daddy won’t buy it. It may also have nothing to do with money but be more of a power thing,” Nick said.

  “Won’t it seem strange since the school year has just started and we’re now bringing in another teacher? We’ve already had our open house and would have introduced new staff there,” Mr. O’Neil said.

  “Daddy, what about the Teen Life workshops?” Ashley asked.

  “What’s that?” Nick said.

  “There’s a series of workshops planned during the last week of October. Expert speakers will come in to discuss family, peer pressure, social media, alcohol, drugs, and sex,” Mr. O’Neil began. “The kids will be learning self-defense all week, and one day there will be a wellness fair with demonstrations on yoga and meditation.”

  “I’m part of the planning committee,” Ashley said. “We want the kids to engage in conversation, so we’ve arranged with a company to have a private chat room for each workshop. Each student will get a unique user-id and password. During the workshops, they’ll be able to use their smart phone or tablet to log into the app and anonymously post questions and get answers,” Ashley said.

  “Ashley’s idea,” Mr. O’Neil said.

  “It’s a good one,” Nick said. “Can we leverage these workshops as a way to bring someone on board? Maybe someone who can set up the logistics or work technical support?” Nick asked.

  “Perhaps,” Mr. O’Neil said.

  “Actually, we need a speaker for the drug and alcohol workshop,” Ashley said.

  “That may work. Let me talk with the team,” Nick said.

  “What’s going to be done to ensure the safety of the students and staff?” Ashley said. “You mentioned your informant was killed during your last undercover operation. How can you be sure this isn’t going to cause harm to anyone at this school?”

  ****

  Ashley sat straight in her chair, forcing herself not to look away from Nick’s intense brown eyes. How could he not see the school had to put the safety of the children and staff first? Especially since two of his kids went there, three if you counted Joey attending the middle school.