by Gina LaManna
“You think it’s just a regular black car,” Anthony said.
I gave a sheepish smile and a shrug.
“Maybe if I take you on a test drive in it, you’ll change your mind.”
“I’m open to changing my opinion,” I said, pretending to loftily turn up my nose at what I’m sure was an incredibly expensive car.
“Get in,” he said, shaking his head despite the smile on his lips.
“So, did you write this off as a business expense?” I asked, once inside the car.
Anthony eased it slowly out of the driveway, and I had to admit the car felt great. The engine ran smooth and soft, the interior felt luxurious and the man in the driver’s seat was something else entirely.
“I don’t do the taxes,” Anthony hedged.
“Relax,” I said with a light laugh. “I’m joking. I’ve handed in a business expense with a salt scrub on it before.”
Anthony’s eyes crinkled with amusement, and his face relaxed until I was almost convinced he was having a good time. Whether or not he’d ever be able to let his guard down completely, I’d never know, but this was close.
He moved his hand from the steering wheel to the place of honor next to my knee. Swirling his thumb in small circles over my thin leggings, I leaned my head back against the car seat and let myself enjoy a moment in paradise.
When I opened my eyes, he glanced my way and his thumb paused on my leg, as if waiting for a signal that it was okay to continue. Instead of speaking, I reached out and laid my hand over his. We rode the rest of the way to Stillwater with my hand over his and his hand on my knee. Simple, but peaceful.
“Why are you bringing me back here?” I asked a bit belatedly, as we trundled down the small town’s main street. Neither of us had spoken until now. To make conversation would’ve been to belittle the peaceful moment; we were both capable of sitting in an easy silence, which was sometimes more powerful than words.
“I’d like to show you something,” he said, making a few swirls with his thumb on my inner thigh, just above the knee. Then he moved his hand back to the steering wheel and focused on the road as we neared the oh-so-familiar road that led to Dave’s fake Special Sauce.
I shuddered.
“Flashbacks that bad?” Anthony asked. “If it’s too much, we can leave.”
“Nah,” I said, glancing up at him and holding his gaze until he broke eye contact to look at the road. “I’m okay now. Just remembering the long drive up and down with Meg and her bike on this road. My legs are still wobbly.”
Anthony turned left on the exact same spot where we’d found the service road to the mystical Dave’s shack.
“Here?” I asked. “Did you know about this place?”
Anthony parked the car and came around to the other side. By the time I could figure out how to unlock his space machine, he was opening my car door and helping me out.
“Handle was stuck,” I said.
“Mmm,” Anthony halfheartedly agreed. “This way.”
He led me down the narrow, overgrown driveway. The entrance was a small blip of darkness in a field of openness, and the grasses swayed tonight as they had when Meg and I were last here. Except under the moonlight’s glow, they glistened softly, not feeling like the sharp strands of grass that’d torn at my clothes as I’d hiked back here with Meg. Though it could also be Anthony’s arm holding me close that’d given me rose colored glasses.
A few last fireworks exploded far in the distance, the rumbles like very distant thunderclaps. Tiny bursts of light popped up here and there on the horizon, but other than the muted glow from the stars and the singing chorus of crickets, we were wildly alone.
“We’re going inside?” I asked, as Anthony pushed open the door to the little shack. I certainly wasn’t picky with romantic gestures, but I was still missing an important piece of this puzzle. Why here?
“Give it a chance,” Anthony said, his eyes imploring me to trust him.
I took a deep breath of fresh, crisp night air and ducked my head as I entered the shack.
“Anthony, what is this?” I gasped.
“Do you like it?” he asked.
“It’s...it’s adorable.” I glanced around at the setup. The shack had been tidied up a bit, the un-usable pot and dangerously rusted s’mores skewer tucked back in the corner. A few extra wooden pillars had been added to hold up the roof – roughly manufactured, but sturdy enough that I didn’t feel as if the shack would come crumbling down at any moment.
I sank to my knees on a plush black blanket, which Anthony had spread across the floor. In the center of it was an ice chest that acted as a table; on it chilled a bottle of champagne and two flutes. I spotted another bottle of wine in the corner with extra glasses.
“What is this place?” I asked, my voice hushed. Anthony made mountains of money working for Carlos. He could’ve taken me out to dinner at any of the gorgeous restaurants in the Twin Cities area. It would have been easier, more convenient, and less of a drive – but Anthony didn’t make choices willy nilly. He had a reason for bringing me here.
Anthony sat next to me. “I wanted to tell you a little more about my past.”
“Anthony, you don’t have to—” I said, reaching out and running the outside of my hand gently over his chin. “I trust you. You have a past and I have a past. If you don’t want to talk about it...”
“I do,” he said. “It’s not always sunshine and butterflies – or whatever the saying is – but I want you to know. I want you to know all about me before we take this any further. You deserve—”
“Anthony,” I said, “nothing will change how you make me feel today. We both have a history. It might not be shiny and always beautiful, but if it didn’t exist we wouldn’t be where we are today. And I’m very happy with where we are today.”
I sat back on my heels and smiled as Anthony expelled a sigh. He nodded. “I can’t tell you everything – safety measures, of course. And I won’t tell it to you all tonight. But I brought you here because it’s the first place I lived when I came to America.”
“Here?” I looked around. “Meg and I thought this was a shack some high school brats put together for drinking beer.”
“That’s what it eventually became,” Anthony said. “I was born in Italy. I came over here after a series of events that were more or less unfortunate. I was a little bit of a trouble-maker, but more so a survivalist. I ran away from my childhood,” Anthony said, his eyes drifting away as he paused mid-sentence. “And I found this place. It’s peaceful, isn’t it?”
“It is,” I said, glancing around. Anthony withdrew a lighter from his pocket and lit a few of the candles around the blanket.
My mind raced with questions galore. What happened in Italy? Who brought him here? Why did he feel the need to run away? But something told me that he had a difficult story to tell, and it would come out in bits and pieces over time. If I wanted to move forward, it had to be on trust.
“Tell me more about your story later,” I said, sitting on my knees and leaning in. I gave him the lightest peck on the lips and sat back on my haunches. “Let’s take the blanket outside and go look at some stars. It’s a beautiful night.”
Anthony’s relief was evident on his normally emotionless face. “I’m sure you have questions—”
“Time for that later,” I said, stopping his sentence with a light laugh and another kiss. “Now, let’s relax. I’m the birthday girl. It’s my decision.”
“Speaking of birthday girl,” Anthony said. “I have one last surprise for you.”
“Oh no,” I groaned and rolled my eyes, but there was no weight behind it. My stomach tingled with the now familiar thrill.
“I’m sure you have many questions for me, which I’ll be happy to answer in time,” Anthony said. “But I have just one question for you.”
I gave him a searching glance. He didn’t react, except to shift the champagne’s ice bucket and glasses from the lid of the plastic cooler, the name Luzzi
scrawled in bold letters on the side. When he removed the lid, I paused a moment before looking in.
“Go ahead,” he urged. “It’s not a birthday without this.”
I looked inside, and my delight bubbled over in a squeal of excitement I couldn’t quite contain. Ice cream cake! I clasped my hands in front of my body and looked up, my eyes the slightest bit misty.
“Take off the cover,” Anthony instructed.
The Dairy Queen treat had a normal plastic covering over it, the red and yellow logo covering the frosted design on top of the cake.
“Actually, one second,” Anthony said, catching my wrist as I reached to peel the plastic back. “Let me explain why this moment is so special. In all the time I’ve known you, I’ve never seen your own name on a Dairy Queen cake. I’ve seen you eat Michael’s Retirement cake and Nicole’s Anniversary dilly bars. I’ve seen you eat Michelle’s birthday donuts and Danny’s bar mitzvah cupcakes. But this one, this is just for you.”
I sighed. “You know how to make me swoon.”
“I thought it’d be more special than taking you to a restaurant everyone else in the Cities has eaten at,” Anthony said, offering a shy smile. “But who else can say they’ve dined at the first home of Casa Anthony?”
“This is utterly, completely unique. And the most special night of my life,” I said. This time, when my lips met his, they stayed pressed together longer than I’d intended. I wanted more, but also...
The cake was calling my name.
“Open it,” Anthony said, pulling back first. “Go on.”
I peeled back the frosting to reveal thin, blue-gelled lines scrawling a question on the surface.
I sucked in a breath.
Lacey Luzzi,
Date me?
I didn’t dare look up, for fear my misty eyes would turn into waterfalls.
Instead, my eyes traveled further down the cake to the three boxes outlined in red icing.
Yes – No – Maybe
I reached over and ever so gently swiped away two of the words with the tip of my finger. When I looked up at Anthony, all that was left was a Yes.
Anthony grabbed my hand in his and pulled it towards his mouth. He licked half of the frosting from my finger and then gave me the rest. By the time my finger was clean, I was wracked with a fit of sweet, happy laughter and Anthony’s face had burst into a genuine grin.
“Of course,” I said. “Of course, Anthony.”
I fell into him and his arms caught me. As he held me tight, one last, gigantic display of fireworks burst from the horizon in a perfect display through the open doorway. The neighboring county fair had a carnival running all weekend, with fireworks every night leading up to the Fourth.
Feeling that all was right in the world, I welcomed his sugary kiss with my own frosted lips. All of my Sugary Senses went haywire, as my mind turned blank and my heart grew far more than three times its size with joy.
My last thought, as we lay next to each other on the blanket, my head nestled snugly in his shoulder, was that despite facing murderers and kidnappers, chasing drugs and felling prostitution rings, nothing had prepared me for this moment.
I ran my hand through my new boyfriend’s thick, wavy hair and inhaled his deliciously unique scent, and felt another flutter of anticipation. The thrill that made life worth living.
This was just the beginning of a whole new adventure with Anthony.
THE END
Lacey Luzzi: S’mored
LACEY LUZZI JUST WANTS a s’more.
After her grandfather gifts her a relaxing weekend at his luxury cabin, Lacey packs her best friend Meg into the Lumina and together they take off, dreaming of a girls’ weekend filled with bonfires, boat rides, and work-free days. However, when three unexpected visitors show up on the doorstep of the Luzzi cabin, her plans of peace and quiet are foiled. It only gets worse after Lacey finds a dead body in her trunk – with no explanation as to how, or why, he’d landed face down in her leftover Taco Bell!
Suddenly, Lacey’s trip is no longer a weekend getaway, but a top secret assignment full of kidnappings, karaoke bars, and a suspiciously meddlesome grandmother. She recruits the help of new boyfriend Anthony, as well as computer-whiz cousin Clay, and together they must find the murderer, or else they will be planning a very different kind of getaway.
Chapter 1
“DO YOU THINK THIS OUTFIT shows off my curves?” Meg, a former cop and my best friend since forever, turned towards me in the itsy bitsy, teensy weensy-est bikini known to man.
“You look great, Meg.” I ignored the fact that she’d chosen a swimsuit three sizes too small, and I instead focused on the positive. “I really like your earrings.”
Meg grinned, preening in front of the mirror. “This thing was made for me.”
She selected a comb from my dresser, proceeding to brush her mane of shaggy hair. I winced as one or two leftover donut sprinkles fell to the carpet.
“Lacey!” Meg snapped her fingers. “Pay attention, chickadee. I’m reconsidering now. Do I need a size smaller? Be honest.”
I tried to dodge the question with a shrug, but Meg turned back, a hand on her hip, and fixed me with a calculating stare.
I took a deep breath. If I ignored the fact that her suit failed to cover a polite amount of skin, then she looked great. However, I wasn’t in the mood to argue at the moment. My stomach growled with alarming frequency, and we were already late getting on the road. Our vacation wouldn’t wait forever.
“I think you look like a rock star,” I said. “I just have one little concern.”
Meg frowned. “If you’re worried I’m going to outshine you with my new outfit, you have nothing to fear. You’re my best bud, and I’d never try to show you up. Some guys are into skinny buns like yours. It’s why we make a great team; we complement each other.”
“That’s why you’re a great friend!” I shifted from one foot to another. “But I’m more worried about what happens if you jump. Or move too quickly. Or, you know, walk anywhere.” I made a little walking motion with my fingers. “For example, at the cabin we might jump off the dock or dive from the boat. We have games and activities we can do to relax, and I just don’t want you to feel restricted.”
“Games?” Meg asked. “Like strip poker and spin the bottle? Roulette with real bullets?”
“I meant more like hopscotch, but I’m always open to ideas.”
Meg eyeballed me for a second. “Don’t worry. I’m not jumping anywhere. I plan on being a full-on, sunbathing beauty this whole vacation. I’m gonna be that girl from Babe Watch.”
I gestured to the suit. “You’d need a red one-piece if you wanted to be in Baywatch.”
“Nah, I’m bringing that show into the twenty-first century, girl. Two-piece bathing suits, these days.”
“You’re the woman for the job,” I said. “Now can we please get a move on? Carlos is waiting to give us the keys. We have to swing by his place before we hit the road.”
Carlos, my grandfather and the Don of the Italian Mafia – St. Paul extension – was an intimidating man. He owned a fortress in the Cities that could blow up Cuba, make the Bermuda Triangle entirely disappear, and protect the Family against most terrorist attacks.
Fortunately, I was on his good side for now.
Meg and I had sort of successfully completed a few projects for Carlos. I say sort of because there’d been a shocking number of explosions along the way, in addition to a few grizzled criminals, some dealings with our rival Russian mob, and a handful of steamy kisses with my former gym-trainer-slash-undercover-bodyguard.
For some reason, Carlos had still decided to reward us with a relaxing weekend away. My recent birthday party had been a bittersweet disaster, so after the chaos had died down, Carlos announced he’d be sending me and a friend away for the weekend. To my surprise and excitement, he’d given us the all-access pass to his luxury cabin.
I’d considered asking my new boyfriend to join me, but I knew it wou
ld hurt Meg’s feelings, so I refrained. Plus, it’d been awhile since we’d had a real girl’s weekend alone, and I was looking forward to some sun, spritzers, and s’mores.
Anthony and I had only recently become an official couple. As it so happened, Meg was the only person privy to the “official” relationship news thus far, mostly because Anthony and I weren’t ready to be pestered about a wedding date yet.
On top of that, Anthony and I had barely spent any time alone together. After asking me to become his girlfriend a few nights before, we’d hardly done more than kiss and hold hands. I wanted some time alone with him before the family intruded on our new relationship. Unfortunately, Anthony had been called away to deal with an issue for Carlos the morning after my birthday, and I hadn’t seen him since.
Though I was itching to get some alone time with him, I vowed that I wouldn’t let my friendship with Meg fall to the wayside in the whirlwind of a new man in my life. She’d been there for me for years, and I couldn’t, wouldn’t, ever let that change.
Which was why we’d ended up planning a weekend away – just the two of us – at a remote, zero wi-fi sort of place, complete with a real live bonfire pit in the backyard. The getaway promised relaxation by the lake and balmy Midwestern summer temperatures, ideal for pontoon rides and sunbathing. Not to mention beautiful, golden s’mores roasted over a smoky fire.
“You think I should wear this suit to your grandparents’ mansion? I mean, no offense, but Carlos is kind of a...” She looked around as if someone might be listening behind my closet door. “Tight-ass.”
I also glanced around suspiciously, because there was a small chance someone might actually be listening. Clay, my roommate and favorite cousin, was a tech genius who could rearrange the NSA’s database in minutes, hack Obama’s Facebook with his hands tied between his legs, and retrieve just about anybody’s address, phone, and social security numbers with the slightest hint of a name.
“Yeah, you might want to slip into a cover-up or something,” I suggested. “Just in case you get cold.”
