His plate is still untouched.
“Eat,bella,” he says, his mouth curving. “Rosa’s food is real authentic Italian. The best you will ever have.”
“Aren’t you going to eat?” I ask, nodding toward his plate.
“Once I see that everyone is eating, then I’ll enjoy mine.”
My chest squeezes.
“Maverick.”
“Don’t fight him,” someone says across the table. “The man does not play when it comes to family.”
“Or food,” Stefano adds.
Rosa, standing near the wall, lifts her chin. “Especially food.”
Livy gasps around a bite of pasta. “Mama, I love your spaghetti, but this is another world of delicious.”
“Good for one’s ego, that girl,” I mutter.
Laughter moves around the table.
Livy points her fork toward Rosa. “Can my mama have this recipe?”
“I’m afraid it’s a Moretti family secret,” Rosa tells her.
Livy considers that for half a second.
“What if we become part of the family?”
Every conversation at the table dies.
Slowly, every face turns toward me.
Then toward Maverick.
Who knew a person could blush this much without bursting into flames?
Maverick, the traitor, looks deeply pleased.
“Well then,” Rosa says, laughter in her voice, “that would be a completely different story. I would be obligated to share the secret.”
Livy nods like this is a business negotiation. “Good. I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Olivia Marie,” I whisper.
“What? I’m planning for the future.”
Stefano lifts his glass. “A wiseDonalways does.”
“Don’t encourage her,” I say, turning to Livy. “You’re supposed to be on my team, daughter.”
Maverick leans closer, his voice low near my ear. “Too late,bella.”
I glance at him.
His eyes are warm.
