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I wasn’t sure I’d heard her right. It had been our ritual, one I’d cherished and missed whenever I came home too late—a thing of the past. I moved to Giulia then peered past her toward the bed. Daniele was already in his PJs and sitting atop his comforter, stroking Loulou. Dogs didn’t belong in bed. It was an opinion I stood by, but I didn’t have it in me to throw her out. “You want me to read your bedtime story?”
Daniele nodded. It looked hesitant, but it was there. I met Giulia’s gaze, wondering what she’d done. She gave me a hopeful smile. Warmth crowded in my chest. I’d never felt this kind of… tenderness toward a woman. I leaned down and kissed her briefly before I moved toward the bed.
Daniele’s brows puckered. I sank down beside him and grabbed the picture book from the nightstand. I didn’t get the chance to open it.
“You kissed Giulia.”
I put down the book as I tried to pull myself together. I’d missed Daniele’s voice, even if he asked difficult questions. I’d avoided physical closeness with Giulia in front of him so far, worried it might upset him. “Yes.”
“Why?” He looked curious, not sad or angry. I moved a bit closer and stroked his head.
“Because I really like Giulia.”
“You liked Mom too.”
Looking into his brown eyes, Gaia’s eyes, I couldn’t do anything but lie. “I did.” There had been a time when this statement would have held true. I liked her in the beginning until eventually only resentment remained.
“I miss Mom.” His admittance turned my mouth dry. Of course I knew he missed her, even if she hadn’t taken care of him and Simona in the last few months of her life.
“I know.” I pulled him against my chest, hoping he wouldn’t draw back. He didn’t. He allowed me to hold him, and this small gesture alone was already the greatest Christmas gift I could imagine. I was glad he didn’t ask if I missed her too. One lie was enough.
“I like Giulia too,” he said quietly.
My hand on his head froze. “Good.” My voice sounded strange to my own ears. That never happened. I always kept my cool no matter if we were under attack, if I killed or tortured someone, but this…
“Will she stay?”
“Yes,” I said immediately. I wouldn’t let anything happen to her.
“Okay.” Daniele’s voice sounded drowsier now. These last few months I had missed the feel of his small body becoming soft against me. I tucked him in and hadn’t even read the first page before he was already asleep.
Loulou peeked up at me through half-closed eyes. When she wasn’t pooing everywhere or snapping, she was tolerable. I stood and returned to the bedroom, surprised to find Giulia waiting for me. I pulled her against me, needing her close. “And? How did it go?”
“Good.”
She narrowed her eyes thoughtfully. There was more I wanted to say. Something I’d never said to anyone but my children. I’d formed the exact same words before, but they stuck to my tongue like glue.
“I thought we could exchange our gifts tonight. Tomorrow morning should be about the kids and Loulou opening their presents.”
I chuckled. “Don’t tell me you got the dog a present.”
Giulia pursed her lips. “Of course. She’s part of this family. And I got presents for Elia, Domenico, and Sybil as well.”
“How did your parents manage to create someone like you?”
“Christian turned out well too.”
I didn’t want to talk about him. Our interactions had been tense. He didn’t trust me, and I didn’t trust him. That wasn’t a good foundation for a work relationship. “Let me get my present. It’s in my office.”
“I’ll come with you. My present for you is downstairs as well.”
Giulia took my hand and pulled me toward her hobby room. I’d never set foot inside of it. “Close your eyes.”
I gave her a scolding look. “I’m not twelve.”
“You’re a killjoy, old man. Now close your eyes.”
I squeezed her ass cheek hard in warning, making her jump, but then I closed my eyes. She had me wrapped around her finger, and I wasn’t even trying to free myself. Her fingers tightened around my hand as she led me into the room. “Stop right here.” I did. The smell of fresh paint hung heavily in the air. “Now open your eyes.”
At first, I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to see and was confused why Giulia had taken the picture down from the wall in our bedroom. Then I realized it wasn’t the photo. It was a detailed painting of the beach in front of the house. “Did you paint it?”
“Yes,” she said, straightening her bangs and biting her lip.
I moved closer, amazed by the detail, by the liveliness of the ocean. I wasn’t an art lover and had only visited a couple of museums because business required it.
