Page 12 of Sicilian Savior

“How— how did you?”

“Long arms,” he said, this time not making any sudden movements.

I glanced at his arms, which were long, but even still, he’d never have been able to reach from where he stood without some quick movement to go with it.

“I’m really sorry I startled you,” he said as he stepped back, giving me a little space. “I was just joking around.”

Shaking my head, I closed my eyes and exhaled a long breath through my nose.

He’s not here to hurt you.

“I’m sorry. I’m just a little jumpy still, I guess.”

“You don’t have to be scared of me, Lucia. Ever.”

His eyes locked with mine, and I felt the weight of his words. The truth of them. And I believed them.

Pressing my lips together into a tight smile, I nodded my head softly. “I promise I’ll stop being so jumpy soon. I guess I’ve just been alone for a while, and I’m not used to having people in my home. I’m sorry. Please don’t be offended.”

“I’m not offended.” He stepped a little closer to me. “I’m just sorry that something happened to you to make you feel so scared all the time. If you ever want to tell me about it, I’ll listen.”

Part of me was horrified that he’d come to such an accurate conclusion, and the other part of me wanted to open my mouth and tell him everything. Tell someone what had happened to me and share the weight I carried alone. But I couldn’t. It was too dangerous.

Instead of telling him the truth like I wanted, I just shook my head. “Damn true crime shows. No more. Now, let’s eat.”

Glad he let me change the subject without pushing it, but realizing he still watched me with a new intensity in his eyes, I grabbed the plates and walked them over to the small dining room table in the other room. Knox followed along, but before he sat down, he jiggled the chair a little bit.

“Can’t be too careful,” he joked as he slowly lowered himself into the seat.

The overly nervous face he made while he pretended to shake the chair caused me to laugh, and he soon joined me.

“I can’t believe my chair broke on you,” I said between laughs.

“I’m a big dude. It isn’t the first time I’ve obliterated a chair. But these chairs? They’ve certainly seen better days. They’re practically sawdust held together by—”

The chair made a familiar creaking noise. His eyes went big just before he disappeared under the table.

“Knox!” I shouted, ducking down to see him lying on the orange, shaggy carpet, his body shaking from laughter. “Are you okay?”

His answer was just more laughter. Deep and bellowing. It filled every corner of my house, and soon it filled me too. A smile started on my shocked face and spread into a huge grin. I closed my eyes as laughter poured out of me... laughter that I’d forgotten I even was capable of. It felt good to laugh again, and the more I did it, the harder I laughed. Soon, tears streamed down my face as my whole body shook the way Knox’s still was.

“I fucking broke another chair,” he choked out the words from his hysterical fit on the floor. “Two. Two fucking chairs.”

I laughed harder, now struggling to take another breath. After laughing for what felt like minutes, Knox finally peeled himself out of the wreckage of my wooden chair and sat upright.

“I guess my cat-like reflexes burned out for the night. So, I think I’ll just take my dinner on the floor if that’s okay with you. I mean, it’s not often one gets to dine in a sea of shaggy, orange carpet from the seventies. This is some vintage shit here. I feel like I need some bell bottoms or something.” He ran a hand over the ugly carpet.

Laughing harder, I nodded my head and stood up. I got to his side of the table and handed him his plate and fork.

“Gracias,” he said as he lifted the plate in cheers. “I’ll be down here if you need anything. And I’ll bring over some chairs tomorrow too. Chairs that aren’t trying to kill me.”

Still laughing, I grabbed my plate and sat down on the carpet across from him. “I’m really sorry my chairs are trying to kill you.”

“Luckily, I’m hard to kill.” He waggled his eyebrows and shoveled a forkful of pasta into his mouth. The moment it closed, he slammed his eyes shut and moaned. “Oh my God. Oh. My. God.” He mumbled around his bite of food. “I will happily fall on my ass every time I come here just to eat this. Hell, I’ll fall on my ass a dozen times a night for food this good.”

“You like?” I asked, then took a bite myself. Nonna. It reminded me of Nonna and made me smile, followed by a sadness over how much I missed my family.

“Like?” he snorted. “Love. This is authentic Italian Bolognese. The best I’ve ever had. You’re an amazing cook, Lucia.”