“Well, if it isn’t the last single DiMartino.”
I closed my eyes as an all-too-familiar voice reached my ears at the same time that a hand circled my bicep. I didn’t need to look down to know that the nails on that hand would be long and plastic, thanks to that fake stuff some women use, and painted a vivid color of some sort.
“Hey, Donna.” Succumbing to the inevitable, I pivoted a little so that I was facing the woman, using the opportunity to break free of her grasp at the same time. “I didn’t know you were going to be here tonight.”
“Well, of course. I mean, my mother is best friends with yours, and I ...” Her voice trailed off a little. “I, uh, like Ava.”
I wanted to roll my eyes, but I knew that arguing with what she’d just said would be pointless. “Okay. Well, I should probably see if anyone needs my help.”
Before I could take a step away, Donna had grabbed my arm again. I looked down and congratulated myself on being right: the nails were bright red. Blood red, even.
“Vince, don’t you think we should stop dancing around this thing between us? I mean, what better time than your sister’s engagement party for us to finally give into what we both want?” Her voice was nasally, making my teeth clench as the sound grated against my ears.
“Donna, I’m sorry, but I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.” I tapped the empty wine glass she was holding. “How many of these have you had?”
Her brown eyes flared wide. “Only three, not that it’s any of your business! God, Vince, you used to be fun.”
When was that?I wanted to ask, but I didn’t want to prolong this conversation. “Nice seeing you, Donna. Enjoy the party.”
“Vince, you know Antonia wanted us to be together.” Donna was pulling out the big guns now, and I halted, simple annoyance morphing into anger.
Donna Varonelli was usually nothing more than a whining mosquito, the kind of niggling irritant that might make me slap at it half-heartedly—figuratively speaking—while I was busy doing something else. But I hated when she used her friendship with my dead sister to try to win my attention.
“Are you that desperate?” I wheeled around, shaking off her fingers yet again and leaning over her. “Are you that pathetic, Donna, that you’re going to try to guilt me into paying attention to you by telling me some half-truth about Antonia?”
She flushed, and her lips pressed together while her eyes darted to the floor. “I’m not pathetic. I’m just tired of you ignoring me, when you know that us being a couple makes perfect sense.”
“Maybe it does in your world, but not in mine. First of all, I’m not looking to be part of a couple. I’m not Carl, who’s been with the same woman since I hit puberty, and I’m not Ava, who’s ready to settle down. I don’t have time for one woman in my life. I like how everything works now. And even if I was ready to choose just one chick, you can be sure it wouldn’t be you.” I knew, even as the words tumbled out of my mouth, that I was being harsh, but I’d long ago realized that sometimes, harsh was the only thing that got through to some people. “Of course, if all you want is a pity fuck, I might be able to make that work. Some time. When I’m not doing anything else.”
Her arm whipped out as she tried to slap me, but I caught it in time, my fingers tight around her wrist. “Don’t, Donna. Just ... don’t. Let’s be adults now and walk away before you make a scene and interrupt my sister’s engagement party. Because if you did that, I’d have to say something to my ma and yours, and that would be ugly.”
“You son of a bitch.” She bit out the words. “You asshole.”
“Yeah, well, I never claimed to be anything different.” I let go of her arm and stepped back. “See you around, Donna. Oh, and you might want to slow down on that wine.”
She said something in response, but I ignored her, purposefully walking across the room to where Liam, my sister’s fiancé, stood with Jesse, who was married to Ava’s friend, Julia. As I approached, Jesse moved away to slide an arm around his wife’s shoulders and join her conversation with another group.
“Vince. Having a good time?” Liam extended his hand to me, and I shook it, nodding. I had to admit, I’d been wrong about Liam Bailey when we’d first met. Back then, all I knew was that this dude had been dating Ava’s roommate and best friend for the better part of a year. It had seemed a little strange that now he was with my sister. Plus, he clearly wasn’t like the rest of us, my family and all the people I’d grown up knowing. He was a rich boy, the son of a politician, which I’d figured made him soft.
But over the months and then the years, I’d seen time and again proof of how much he loved Ava and how well he took care of my baby sister. It also turned out that Liam was a regular guy who never hesitated to hang with my brother, my dad and me. He got his hands dirty when we did yard work at my parents’ house, he threw back beers with us, and he watched games on TV. And if he wasn’t quite as loud as the rest of us were, well ... he wasn’t Italian. He couldn’t help that.
We stood together in companionable silence for a few minutes. I’d been so busy making sure the pastries that I’d provided for the party had been plated that I hadn’t gotten a chance to even snag a beer yet. I was just thinking about remedying that situation when a flash of red caught my eye.
My first impression of the chick standing across the room with Liam’s friends Giff and Jeff wasbright. Her dress was the kind of red that did something to a man, the kind that made someone like me want to follow her around and pant like a dog.
And then I got a load of her legs. Damn. They went on forever, ending in a pair of high heels that I could almost feel pressed into my back. I let my eyes wander upward, sweeping over her ass, where the dress clung tantalizingly to her curves. But it was when I reached her tits that my mouth went dry.
Holy. Fucking. Shit.
Her rack was the stuff of wet dreams. The top of her dress dipped low enough so that I could see cleavage, and when she leaned forward to speak to Jeff, the slight jiggle told me that those luscious breasts weren’t being helped by any padding or bra. Those babies were all natural and unfettered. All her.
And I wanted them. I wanted to mold my hands around them and lift them up until I could press my lips into the generous mounds.
“Hey, do you know who that is with your friends over there?” I gestured with my head in the direction of the babe.
Liam glanced over. “Amanda? Yeah, I know her. We all went to school together, Giff and Amanda and me.”
“Huh.” I rubbed my jaw. “So, what’s her situation?”
