Page 74 of Lucian

His switches flipped on and off in such fast bursts it was hard to keep track of his moods. Easy laughter between him and his three sons could quickly turn into tense, uncomfortable stares and short apologies before anyone had blinked. Antony rarely ever had to say a word to earn those apologies, either.

It was also clear he adored and loved his sons.

For Jordyn, it was a complex, confusing mix of relationships she tried not to pick apart or scratch too deep into.

So, when she walked out of the bedroom she shared with Lucian after her morning shower—fully dressed and ready for the day—she might have instinctively dropped back another step or two at the sight of Antony at the kitchen table.

Intimidating, indeed.

Jordyn wouldn’t say he looked carefree in his stylish, well-fitted suit, a pair of dark sunglasses pushed up into his hair, and a cup of to-go coffee in his hand, but at the very least, he seemed relaxed.

“Good morning, Jordyn,” Antony greeted. He waved at a second cup on the table. “Lucian took his with him, but this one is all yours. Three sugar, two cream according to my son.”

“Um … Thank you?”

“That’s a decent start,” he quipped with a grin. “I’ll overlook your lack of conversational ability because it’s morning. Come, sit.”

Jordyn did as he wanted, grabbing the hot coffee up the moment she sat down and opening it to take a sip. The sweetened, bitter drink woke her up even more.

“Where’s Lucian?” Jordyn asked.

Her lover said nothing about needing to leave earlier, never mind telling her his father would be around. It seemed at least one of his family members were usually close by, or showing up unexpectedly. Jordyn had come to learn there was very little privacy or secrets in the Marcello family. The three grown sons might have been adult men, but being Italian and Cosa Nostra born meant they were all a bit closer than the norm and tighter than knots.

“My sons are all handling an issue today.”

Jordyn bit her lip. “Oh.”

“You’re sleeping with my son,” Antony said out of the blue.

Jordyn nearly choked on the coffee as she swallowed. “Excuse me?”

“My son, you’re sleeping with him. Forgive me, because I’m new at this.”

“You mean having a conversation with a woman? Because it usually doesn’t start out like that.”

“No,” Antony murmured, sighing. “I meant I’m new to talking with a woman one of my sons are intimately involved with, or even care about, for that matter. I don’t generally get to meet those girls, not that I wanted to. I don’t mean to be off-putting, but this is different for me.”

“I’m just a girl,” Jordyn said quietly.

“Sure. A girl my oldest is in love with. One who shares him in ways he hasn’t given to anyone before. To me, that means I can’t treat you as just any girl, Jordyn. It doesn’t work that way.”

Jordyn didn’t know how to respond to that, so she settled for another simple, “Oh.”

“Did you have plans today?” Antony asked.

“Lucian was going to pick me up for dinner at Cazza later.”

“He’ll be back by that time. I meant before, sweetheart. For the day, did you have anything specific you wanted to do?”

Jordyn shrugged. “If I have to stare at the mess on his desk much longer, I’m going to burn it all.”

Antony laughed deeply, the easy-going sound surprising Jordyn. “Wouldn’t he be angry with you for doing that?”

“Maybe, but I bet he’d start putting away things after he takes them out. Sometimes he’s worse than a teenage girl. Five different shirts before he picks the one he likes, and the rest get left wherever they fell.”

“It’s an inherited trait,” Antony explained. “That’ll be a losing battle for you, I’m afraid. John was the same way, but he always knew where everything was, oddly.”

Huh.