AllFreeNovel
Share Us
If I hadn’t already been in love with him, this would be the exact moment I would have fallen.
“I know the feeling,” I admitted. “I feel like my whole life so far has been a lot of uncertainty and struggle and stress. I swear it all fell away when I walked in this house with you. And it’s just been getting better ever since then.”
“I think we can plan on having many years of happy ahead of us,” he said, his hands moving to my hips, then hiking me up onto the counter, and moving between my thighs. “Think maybe we should… pursue some happiness right now?” he asked, a playful glint in his eye.
“The answer to that will always be yes,” I told him, wrapping my arms around his neck, then pulling him in for a kiss.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Avery - 1 week
One week.
That was the peace period we were granted by Emilio’s family.
And, I guess, that was actually probably pretty generous, given the situation. It must have been difficult for Emilio to keep them all away as long as he had.
“Stop fussing,” Emilio said, snagging me around the waist, and pulling me away from the mantle where I’d been trying to line up the little decor accents just a little bit better.
“I want it to be perfect,” I insisted. Maybe a part of that had to do with my shaky introduction to the Costa crew. I couldn’t present them a picture-perfect first impression of me, but I could give them a flawless home makeover.
“Baby, listen to me,” Emilio said, pulling me back against his chest. The feel of him, the scent of him, it always made the stress just melt away. “The last time my mom was here, there was no furniture, everything was still in boxes, and she needed to bring me two of her mugs from her house just so we could share a cup of coffee together.”
“Oh, I remember how it was when I first came,” I agreed. Beautiful. Perfect bones. But not homey.
I’d like to think I did a pretty good job pulling the place together. Especially given that I had absolutely no experience doing so before.
I think the home itself just inspired me to care about things that I’d never been able to spend time on before. Because, well, decor cost money. And I had always been woefully low on that.
“Mom is going to fucking love that you made this a home. And Isabella is going to be impressed with the style.”
“And Mirabella?” I asked.
“Mira… Mira is barely going to notice. She’s not interested in decor and shit like that.”
“I’m not gonna lie, I’m really curious to see Primo and Isabella together,” I told him. Especially after learning about their unconventional relationship. His other sister had a bit of a hate-to-love story herself, but I actually didn’t know as much about that situation. I guess I had the chance to ask her about it at dinner.
“And the hoard of kids?” Emilio asked.
“Oh, yes,” I agreed, even more excited about that part than I was letting on.
We’d talked about both wanting kids already, of course, but I didn’t want to come off as that crazy chick by telling him how much I wanted to see little bodies crawling up and down the halls, to hear belly laughs echoing through the rooms, to read bedtime stories and color with chalk in the garden.
Primo and Isabella were on their third child so far. The eldest, a son, was five, I think? And then there was another son, around three. And a baby of only, like, six months or so.
They wanted a bunch more.
So I was excited to spend some time with those three to get a feel for maybe how many I would like to have.
I’d been raised in the average American family, I guess. Two kids. Small, very small, by the Costa standards. And Frank wasn’t the type of man to hang out in a family sort of way with other members of the Lombardis. I actually don’t think I met more than two Lombardi offspring my entire childhood. Those were chance encounters at the grocery store.
I was curious to see what it was like to have a big, crazy, lawless, loud family all in one place, enjoying one anothers’ company.
Dinners, holidays, and special occasions weren’t big to-dos in my life. It was usually just the four of us and a dinner my mom made with a little help from me. Frank and Cage would dominate the conversation. Then my mom and I would have to do all the put-away and clean-up while the guys relaxed. You know, because it took a lot out of them to watch us cook and serve.
I knew that Emilio’s mom was traditional, that she showed her love with food and taking care of everyone. But I also knew that Isabella’s husband Primo was, apparently, a really good cook. And Mira’s man, Vissi, washed the dishes because Mira couldn’t stand that chore.
