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Had he ever. He didn’t know if he’d ever smelled anything as good as all that messy, sugary stuff combined with the brunette’s earthy essence. “Yeah. So?”
“You’re not usually this dense.”
“You’re not usually this close to death.”
“Think…the bakery…”
“Natale’s? Gloria’s folks?” And suddenly it hit him. “No.”
“Oh, yes.”
No. Impossible. It was out of the question. “Not Gloria’s baby sister. Tell me that wasn’t chubby little Cookie.”
“She ain’t chubby and I think if you called her Cookie to her face she’d slug you.” Mark threw a consoling arm across Nick’s shoulders, his chest shaking with laughter. “To answer your question, yes, my brother, that was Isabella Natale.”
Nick couldn’t speak. He was too stunned, thinking of how she’d changed. It had been at least nine-ten years, perhaps-since he’d seen her. She’d still been in high school and he’d run into her at a Christmas party at Gloria and Tony’s when he was home on leave. She’d still blushed and stammered around him. And she’d still been girlishly round-pretty but with such a baby-face he’d never taken her crush on him seriously.
Oh, he knew about the crush. Everybody knew about the crush. His brother Tony had threatened to break his legs if he so much as looked at her the wrong way at the wedding.
Huh. He hadn’t looked at her the wrong way. He’d just landed on top of her in a pile of cookies. And had been unable to get up because she’d wrapped her limbs around him like she was drowning and he was a lifeguard trying to save her.
He started to smile. “Izzie.”
“Izzie. Formerly chubby sister of our sister-in-law, turned sexy-as-hell woman, now back in town working at the bakery.”
“Her parents’ bakery up the block?”
“That’s the one.”
“Is she here for good?” he asked, already wondering how things could have turned out this perfectly.
“I don’t know. She’s been home for a couple of months, since Gloria’s father had a stroke. With the new baby, Gloria couldn’t help much, and the middle sister’s a lawyer.”
“So the youngest one came home to take over.” Not surprising. The Natales were much like the Santoris-family meant everything.
It almost seemed too good to be true. He’d finally come across someone who not only made his nerves spark and his jeans grow a size too tight, but who also came with a pre-made stamp of approval from the neighborhood. She was gorgeous. She was feisty. Her smile nearly stopped his heart. She’d had a crush on him forever-and was obviously still affected by him, judging by the way she’d taken off in a huff.
And she was not a faceless stripper behind a mask.
Enough of that. The Crimson Rose was every other man’s fantasy. At this point in his life, Nick wanted reality. He was ready for what his brothers and sister had. And he had just stumbled across a real woman who he sensed could both drive him absolutely wild with want and be someone he could truly like.
“I think I’m feeling a need for some fresh cannoli,” he murmured, smiling as he looked out the window at the sky, streaked orange by the setting sun. Izzie was no longer in sight…she obviously wasn’t too desperate for pizza.
Maybe he’d deliver it to her.
“Judging by the way she bolted, you’d better think again.”
Nick shrugged. He wasn’t worried. After all, Izzie had had a thing for him once upon a time…she had practically chased him down. He just needed to remind her of that.
And to let her know he was ready to let her catch him.
“I SWEAR, BRIDGET, you should have seen his expression. It was as if it was the first time in his life a woman has ever turned him down,” Izzie didn’t even look at her cousin as she spoke. She was too busy punching into a huge ball of dough, picturing Nick Santori’s face while she did it.
Though it had been nearly twenty-four hours since she’d run into him, she hadn’t stopped thinking about him. Drat the man for invading her brain again, when she’d managed to forget him over the past several years. Ever since she skipped out of Chicago to follow her dancing dreams, she’d been convincing herself her crush on him had been a silly, girlish thing.
Seeing him had reminded her of the truth: she’d wanted Nick before she’d even understood what it was she wanted. Now that she knew what the tingle between her legs and the heaviness in her breasts meant, the want was almost painful.
“Didn’t Nana always say the secret to a flaky crust was not to overwork it?” her cousin said, sounding quietly amused.
