by L. D. Davis
She walked with him to the front door and went in for the hug. I crossed my arms and watched them through eyes slanted into suspicious slits.
“Thanks for coming,” I heard her say.
“Anytime, Caroline Forbes.”
Lydia pulled back and stared at him questioningly. “Who is Caroline Forbes?”
“Vampire Diaries. She’s a little high strung and extra. Like you.”
“I’m beginning to feel very disturbed by your knowledge of so many teenage dramas.”
“Don’t be disturbed. I’m just as well versed in sports, horror, and sci-fi flicks, and classic literature. I am what one would call well-rounded.”
She seemed ready to respond with her usual snark, but I had enough of this. While I pretended to be interested in something on my phone, I loudly and obnoxiously cleared my throat. Even though I did not look directly at them, I saw them both look at me, Lydia with more exasperation and Adam with a wince.
“I better go,” Adam said quietly, and I glanced up just in time to see him silently mouth, “Sorry.”
Lydia shrugged. “Hopefully, I’ll see you in a few weeks. Have a safe trip.”
“Thanks. It’s been fun. Later, Marco.” He gave me a wave.
I didn’t smile at my friend. “Goodbye, Adam.”
Even though it was cold, and her legs were bare, Lydia stood in the open door until Adam was in his rental car. After she locked up, she turned slowly to face me. “You should have told me you were coming.”
As I stared at her, my face was stone. “Doesn’t appear I was needed.”
She made an annoyed sound and walked back to the living room. “Don’t be like that.”
“Like what? How am I being?”
She stopped a foot away from me and crossed her arms defensively. “You’re being a dick.”
The last strands of my patience were snapping one by one. “I’m being a dick? I’ve been traveling for twenty-one hours. Twenty-one hours so I could get here to be with you and the children. When I finally made it here, tired, hungry, and irritated, but so ready to surprise you and hold you again, I walked through the door and found you in another man’s arms. Not just another man, but my friend.”
Her redheaded temper flared. “I wasn’t in his arms.”
“And I guess you are going to tell me his mouth wasn’t on your face.”
“He gave me a platonic kiss on my cheek because he was grateful for something I said.”
“And what was it that you said that made him so damn grateful?”
Her hands dropped to her hips. Admittedly, she looked damn sexy all riled up, her face red, and her hair seeming to fly behind her. Her hair wasn’t really flying behind her, but that’s how she appeared, like an avenging goddess, or a pissed off super-hero.
“None of your damn business.”
I ignored my building lust for her. It was an angry lust, and I wasn’t sure what I would do to her. “What was he doing here, Lydia?”
“He was here for dinner, obviously.”
“What was the main course? You?”
She shoved me, which I deserved. I was lucky she didn’t slap me.
“Fuck. You. Manwenie.”
She started to turn away, but I grabbed her arms and forced her back in front of me.
“It’s Mangini. What was happening when I came through the door?” I demanded. “What were the two of you doing?”
Lydia suddenly looked very tired, as tired as I was. All the happiness and peace I’d seen on her face when I first arrived was gone. Vaguely, I knew that was my fault, and I felt some guilt for that.
I saw her brain working, quick thoughts flitting through her mind. When she finally answered, her voice weary, I knew it was the truth, but not the whole truth. She was leaving something out. “We were dancing. Dancing and talking. That’s it.”
My eyes moved all over her face, up and down her body. Part of me knew she was telling the truth. I knew Adam would never betray me in that way, and neither would Lydia, but the unspoken words made me distrustful.
“You don’t dance.” It was a quiet accusation.
“Maybe I just haven’t had a willing partner.”
With that, she twisted out of my hold and put space between us. I closed my tired eyes and rubbed the bridge of my nose. There had been enough space between us over the past few weeks, and not just physical space. I didn’t want my short visit to be this way, with us arguing, and me taking my crap out on her.
I opened my eyes to meet her gaze and softened my tone. “I’m sorry. I am tired, hungry, aggravated, and…there is so much on my mind. I should not have taken it out on you.”
She said nothing, and just stood there, studying me warily. I took a tentative step toward her, and then another, and another.
“I am sorry, Tesoro. So sorry.”
I reached for her, gently pulled her close, and was thankful she let me. I put my arms around her, and again whispered my apologies. After another moment, I felt her sigh, and her arms circled my waist.
“So, sorry,” I whispered as I kissed her neck. Another few kisses along her delicate jawline, and when my mouth found hers, she kissed me back, and melted into my embrace.
Chapter Eleven
Lydia
“I tried to be here much sooner,” Marco said around a large bite of turkey. “My flight out of Milan was canceled, and then the second one was canceled, and then my flight from LaGuardia was delayed. It’s been a very long day.”
He didn’t usually talk with food in his mouth, but I forgave him this time. He seemed ravenous. We were in the kitchen, seated at the table while he ate reheated Thanksgiving dinner. After our make-up slash hello kiss, he sweetly asked me to feed him. I capitulated but told him I couldn’t promise not to poison his food after his bad behavior.
Not for the first time since his arrival, I noticed how exhausted he looked, dark circles under his eyes, frown lines around his mouth. He had more facial hair than I’d ever seen on him, too, with dark and gray hairs sprouting from his face as if he hadn’t shaved in days, maybe longer. All of this made it easier to accept his explanation and apology for the way he’d acted when he arrived. Also, I could understand how he mistook an innocent dance and kiss as something more. I would have done the same. I had done the same.
“I wish I could have been here for dinner. I worried about you and the kids being alone.”
I offered a small smile. “We would’ve gotten through it. Cora made the gravy. Shockingly, there are less lumps in hers than my mom’s.”
“She did a very good job. You all did.”
He resumed eating with more gusto this time, as if to appreciate our hard work. While he ate, I told him about our day. When I told him about inviting Adam for dinner, I left out the part about my physical therapy and the doctor’s appointment. I had already told Marco about the appointment once before, but he must’ve forgotten, because he didn’t ask me about it. In fact, he hadn’t even seemed to notice that I was moving a little easier. I reminded myself that he was distracted, that he had a lot on his plate, and maybe my physical improvements weren’t really that noticeable to anyone else but my doctors who were looking at me from a completely different perspective.
Anyway, I wanted to surprise him at Lily’s wedding. I wouldn’t be a professional ballroom dancer or anything, but after my lessons with Adam, I thought I could at least be decent enough to keep up with an accomplished dancer like Marco.
When I got up to wash his dishes, he made me sit back down and took them to the sink himself. “Do you want some hot chocolate?”
My nose crinkled. He looked ready to pass out in the dishwater. “Wouldn’t you rather get some sleep?”
“Not yet. I can sleep later.”
I remained seated, my chin cupped in my palm, and silently watched him work for a few minutes. “What are you doing here anyway?”
He gave me an amused glance over his shoulder. “Do you not want me to be here?”
“You kno
w that’s not what I mean. You said you weren’t going to come.”
“I wasn’t, but you would not give me a straight answer the other day when I asked how you were doing.”
My brows arched high. “You came all the way across the ocean to ask me how I’m doing?”
“Yes, and because I miss you and the children.” He placed a steaming mug in front of me before going back to the counter.
“And how long are you back?” I asked after a hesitation.
When his back stiffened at the question, I knew I wouldn’t like his answer.
“I need to fly to New York late Monday or early Tuesday at the latest. I’ll spend the rest of the week between there and Philly catching up on some things, and then I will return to Italy.”
I felt my face fall and was glad he wasn’t looking at me to see it. “So you’ll only be here with us through the weekend. And when will you be back?”
He finally turned to meet my eyes. “I don’t know.”
“Oh.”
Suddenly, I didn’t want any hot chocolate. I broke eye contact with Marco, pushed my mug away, and stood up.
“I have to work tomorrow. I didn’t know you were coming, so Maureen will be here around eight thirty.”
His gaze was heavy on me, as if he were trying to bore into my skull to see my exact thoughts. “I can drive you to work and let Maureen go when I get back. I’ll make sure she still gets paid for the whole day.”
I shrugged. “Sure. Okay.”
He let me leave the kitchen and go upstairs alone, but he did not leave me alone for very long. Soon after I was in bed, I heard him enter the room and the rustle of material as he undressed. He got in behind me, pulled me against the front of his body, and draped a leg over both of mine. His breath was warm against the back of my neck.
“Why won’t you talk to me, Tesoro?”
“I talked to you all night,” I murmured.
His voice was harsh as he gave me a little shake. “That isn’t what I mean, and you know it. I keep asking you how you are doing, and you won’t tell me. You’re shutting me out again.”
“I’m tired. That’s how I’m doing right this moment, Marco.”
He sighed and said no more, but I knew he was only giving me a reprieve. Just like he never gave up in his pursuit of me, he wouldn’t give up on this, either.
In the morning, I woke up when I felt a tugging at my pajama bottoms. Blearily, I blinked down at the man who stood at the foot of the bed, naked in the first rays of sunlight. My mind could barely grasp the incredible sexiness of him, the pure masculinity and beauty of the man. I lifted my hips to aid him in the removal of the clothing.
“Take your shirt off,” he softly commanded.
I did as I was told for once, and got rid of the shirt, which left me as naked as he was. I watched with curiosity and anticipation as he lifted my foot. I was no stranger to toe sucking, but it was one of those things that had always disturbed me as much as it turned me on. Marco didn’t go for my toes, however. He placed a gentle kiss on the inside of my ankle. Another on my calf, and another a little further up as he got on the bed between my legs. He kissed my knee, and when he kissed my inner thigh, it was accompanied by a light nibble.
As he lay flat on his stomach, he carefully pushed my legs further apart, exposing me fully to him.
“I’ve missed this sweet pussy.”
I moaned at his words. I loved when Marco talked dirty, using dirty words he didn’t usually use in regular conversation.
“So sweet,” he murmured, as the first swipe of his tongue sent a jolt through my core. “Così fottutamente dolce.”
He devoured me. Licked, sucked, tasted, and savored me like I was his last meal. My head was thrown back, eyes closed, my hands wound securely in his hair, as I licked my lips and moaned. My hips rose and fell as I grinded onto his mouth. The newest sensation of his short beard rubbing against my thighs made the oral pleasure so much more intense.
He reached for my aching nipples just as his teeth closed over my clit. A sudden, powerful orgasm hit me, making me hold his head against me as I mewed like a kitten and my body shook. When I finally went slack, my orgasm ripping away my energy, he gave me one last lick before he lifted his head and continued his journey up my body with kisses across my torso. He sucked a nipple into his mouth and swirled his tongue around it for a few seconds, just enough to get me all riled up again, before he released it and took my mouth instead as he positioned his cock at my entrance.
He entered me slowly, making me relish every inch of him. When his full length was inside me, he angled his head and gazed down at where we were connected.
“That is so sexy,” he growled. “Look at us, Tesoro. Look at me inside you.”
I did look, and it was sexy, and it was even sexier when he began to move. With gasps of pleasure, I watched his dick slide in and out of me. Moaning, Marco took my mouth again and kissed me hard as he fucked me with slow, deep strokes. My fingers caressed his biceps and trailed down his sides. I loved to touch him like that, to feel his muscles flex as he moved, to feel the way his waist bent slightly with his thrusts.
I came again, but not as violently as I had before. It was a quiet, gentle roll of sensations instead of one that knocked my breath from me. A minute later, Marco muttered Italian words into my neck as he pulled out of me and came on my stomach. We kissed again, his body pressed against mine, heedless of the sticky warmth between us.
“I love you,” Marco whispered onto my lips.
Somehow, that was just what I needed to hear after his weeks-long absence. I’d needed this closeness and those words like a balm to my soul. It would be enough for the time being, until he was gone again.
Chapter Twelve
We had maybe an hour tops before any of the kids woke up. The girls especially liked to get up early and get a head start on parental and brotherly torture. After Marco had done the gentlemanly thing and cleaned off my stomach with a washcloth, we cuddled together in bed. Our legs were entwined as I rested my head on his chest, and his arms held me securely.
“How’s your brother?”
He sighed, making my head rise and fall with his chest. “He’s dying. The doctors have been able to prolong his life, hopefully, for another few months at best, but the disease is deadly. There is no way to know for sure. He could go in six months or eight, or in eight hours or days. I think he has accepted his fate now, but that does not make it any easier. Massimo does not want to leave Celia. He wants to see his children grow up. His oldest is almost twenty, and he and his fiancée are expecting a baby in five months. My brother doesn’t know if he will live to see his first grandchild, or if he will be in the state of mind and body to be able to understand and appreciate the baby. He has a whole list of places he’d like to see, events he’d like to witness, and things he would like to do, but even now he is too sick to do most of it.”
Marco fell silent for a couple minutes. I didn’t speak because I had the feeling he wasn’t finished yet, that he was still processing his thoughts and feelings.
“He doesn’t look the same anymore,” he whispered. “We once looked very similar, except Massimo was leaner, and he had a thicker, lighter head of hair. He’s changed so much in the past several weeks. He doesn’t have any hair now. He’s too thin, and he has this sickly color to his skin. He looks like an old man, a different man that none of us knows. Not my brother. Not my nieces’ and nephews’ father. Not my parents’ son. Not Celia’s husband. He looks like a stranger.”
Guilt flooded into my heart for the jealous thoughts and feelings I’d had over the past few weeks. Massimo was literally dying. Marco sounded helpless, which was hard for me to hear, but Celia must have felt helpless. The love of her life was slowly disappearing, and there wasn’t anything she could do about it. If she were anything like me, she was trying hard to keep her family together and as happy as can be under the circumstances. Maybe she had been spending a lot of time with Marco, but maybe that was
what she needed. He could keep her human, keep her grounded, and keep her from turning into the cold, disenchanted person I had become after Gavin’s death.
I cuddled closer into him. “I am so sorry. I don’t know what to say. I wish there was something I could do to help.”
“Every text message, every phone call, and email, and every FaceTime call helps, Tesoro. Anytime I get to talk to you and the children helps. Being here with you right now helps.”
We were quiet again for several minutes. I knew Marco was deep in his thoughts, but I just tried to enjoy his presence. I hadn’t realized how much I missed him until he walked through the door last night.
“So, talk to me, Tesoro. Tell me how you have been. How you have really been.”
I rolled my eyes because I knew he couldn’t see it. I should have known he wasn’t going to wait much longer to start up again.
“I’ve been fine. What time is it?” I twisted away to see the clock behind me on the table. It was nearly eight. “Crap. I have to get ready for work.”
I tried to get up, but Marco held me tighter. “Why do you keep avoiding the question, Lydia?”
I pushed against his chest but without results. “I didn’t avoid the question. I gave you an answer. Let me up. I have to get ready. Maureen will be here in a half hour.”
He let me go, but he got out of bed with me and stood almost where he’d stood about forty minutes ago when he had begun to relieve me of my clothes, except this time, he had on a pair of sweatpants. His hands were on his hips and his gaze was narrowed on me.
“You haven’t given me a real response in weeks, maybe since the day I left. I know you are not fine, but I wish you would tell me how you really feel. I thought we were past the bullshit and falsities.”
I gasped and widened my eyes as I struggled into a robe. “Oooh, you cursed!”
His eyes flashed with anger and frustration as he strode to me in two large steps. I backed into my dresser and stared up at him.
