The Tempesta brothers also surprised me during dinner. I was assigned a seat between Julian and Tye. Rather than a chaotic, testosterone-fueled fight club event, the hour was calm and the brothers were impeccably well mannered. I observed them as discreetly as possible, trying to guess if they’re just playing along with their father’s courtship charade or if any one of them will really step up to the altar when called.
When the dinner dishes were cleared away and a cake was delivered to the table, I was initially mystified. I had no idea that anyone in the family was celebrating a birthday.
“I know we’re a day late,” said Cassio, his gleaming black eyes fixated on my reaction. “Happy Birthday, Cecilia.”
For a moment, I was speechless. The cassata cake piped with pink icing roses was forme.
But how did they know?
I suppose I should have been prepared for the fact that the Tempestas have done their homework.
Julian lit the candles and slid the cake over. “Make a wish,” he said in his velvety, deep voice that has already ravaged my composure more than once. His breath feathered over my neck and his knee briefly pressed against mine.
It’s not my imagination that every move Julian makes feels deliberate. Calculated. Intentional. He has a talent for jumpstarting my ovaries and I’m convinced he knows it.
I blew out the candle immediately but was too flustered to make a real wish. Maybe I should make one now. Can’t hurt.
I wish Gabriel would call. Or at least answer my texts. After dinner, Angelo texted to confirm my arrival at the ranch and then ignored all my follow up questions.
A rustling noise outside the bedroom door gets my attention. Uneasiness spikes. I’m unprepared for a visitor. The first thing I did after shutting the door last night was flip the lock and I haven’t been disturbed since then.
The room itself is very comfortable. Spacious, with the walls painted a calming light blue and featuring a king-sized bed, along with the same type of rustic dark wood furniture found throughout the house. I had assumed that the bright pink hydrangeas stuffed into vases sitting atop the dresser and the desk were fake until I watched a vibrant petal fall off.
A light rap on the door is followed by a gentle female voice. “Cecilia?”
I exhale with relief and unlock the door. Carmela has encouraged me to call her ‘Mel’. From what I gather, she’s lived here for ages and is treated like a member of the family.
She’s waiting with a smile when I open the door. “Good morning,” she chirps. There’s a large wooden tray balanced in her hands and I back up to give her room.
“I figured you’ve gotta be hungry.” She has a thick east coast accent and shakes her head when I try to take the tray from her. She sets it down on the small desk. “Breakfast is served in the dining room at seven but you deserved to sleep in on your first day. If you have any requests, just let me know. Our chef used to run a five star restaurant in Philly and can whip up anything under the sun.”
“Thank you.” I tighten the belt on my robe and feel like a slacker. “I’m sorry you had to bring all this up here.”
Mel flips a white ceramic mug over and fills it with hot water from a kettle. She plucks a tea bag from a small bowl and carefully dips it in the water. “I don’t mind at all.”
She straightens up and peers into my eyes. Her short black hair shows grey roots. The number of lines etched into her face imply she’s spent a lifetime smiling. I’m very glad she’s here.
“How long has everyone else been up?” I ask.
“Sweetie, days on a ranch always start early. But don’t you worry. You just got here so you take all the time you need. You’ll have plenty of chances to get to know the boys better.”
From the way she says ‘the boys’, it’s clear she adores them. Mel must have been told the reason why I’m here. I have to wonder what she thinks of this arrangement.
I lift the mug to my lips. English Breakfast tea, my favorite. “You’ve lived at the ranch for a long time?”
Her smile dims and her eyes drift to the window. “Since the boys lost their mother.”
I know very little about Teresa Tempesta. Only that she was murdered by one of her husband’s many enemies. The youngest of her sons was just a baby when she was killed.
Remembering this tragic fact unleashes fresh compassion for the men of Storm’s Eye Ranch. Whatever else I might think of Cassio Tempesta and his sons, they’ve suffered a terrible loss.
Most people can’t relate to a tragedy of that magnitude. How it haunts you and steals your happiness. How it makes you dread the calendar and ransacks your dreams.
Unfortunately, I understand all of this far too well.
“I’m supposed to marry one of them,” I blurt out. “I’ve been told to choose which one. Did you know that? Did they tell you why?”
Mel’s expression shifts in an instant. Her eyes go flat and her mouth freezes.
