Page 10 of Sicilian Savior

With a shake of my head, I stepped aside to allow him room. “Honestly, a little company might be nice. Please, join me.” Even though that familiar anxiety twisted up inside my stomach, I pushed it aside. It’d been ages since I’d socialized with anyone, and I’d used to love to entertain in my old life.

His face brightened. “Well, I’m not going to turn down fresh Italian straight from the kitchen. Thank you, Lucia. I’d love to join you.”

He stepped inside, and as he walked past me, I noted this was the closest I’d let myself get to him... and how much safer I felt just having him in such close proximity. The opposite of what I should feel having a strange man in my house.

As Knox walked in, his eyes drifted to the back of my door, taking notice of the extra deadbolts. “How, uh, how are you?” he asked as his eyes narrowed a bit while he appraised them.

“Good. And you?”

“Good, thanks,” he answered, but his eyes were still fixed on the back of my door.

Knowing now I needed to explain myself, I pushed the door shut and said, “I put on the extra locks because the landlord said the old tenants got kicked out and never gave up their key.”

His dark eyebrows pushed together. “And he didn’t change the lock for you?”

I shook my head.

“I’ll do that tomorrow. He should have done that. Always change the locks when you move into a new place. You never know how many keys are out there.”

I nodded. “Yeah. Thanks. I didn’t know how to replace the knob, so I just added these.”

“Smart girl,” he said, now relaxing that I’d given him an answer... albeit a false one.

Knox walked into my house, his eyes roving over everything in his path. “Your landlord really sounds like a slum lord based on the condition this place is in.”

“I got it for a steal, and I can’t afford anything more, so I don’t want to complain and get kicked out. It’s liveable.”

He snorted. “It’s as bad as my uncle’s, and that’s saying something.”

“Your uncle’s?” I asked as I walked back into the kitchen to check the pasta.

Knox followed me in and leaned over the stove, inhaling a big breath of the fragrant air above the pot. “Damn. I just want to shove my whole face in that pot.”

He turned his head and smiled at me, and the softness of it made my stupid heart flutter again. We were just a foot apart now, and I didn’t feel threatened.

It was nice.

“My nonna’s recipe. Learned from her mother and her mother before her. My mom taught me.”

“I can’t wait to try it.”

He stood up tall and being so close to him really made it apparent just how much height he had on me. My five-foot-three frame was at least a foot shorter than his towering stature.

“And yeah, I’m staying at my uncle’s place,” he said as he moved across my kitchen and pulled up a chair. “That’s why I’m here in B.F.E.”

“B.F.E?” I glanced over my shoulder while I snagged a noodle with my slotted spoon.

He chuckled. “I mean Mountain Springs.”

I shook the spoon until all the water drained out and then popped the pasta in my mouth. Perfect.

Grabbing the pot, I carried it to the sink and tipped it into the strainer.

“Do you need any help? I feel like a schmuck. I didn’t even bring wine or anything. I wasn’t expecting to join you.”

“No, thank you. You don’t ever need to bring anything. This is payment for helping around here, remember?”

“Fair enough,” he said.