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With Valentina’s arm still around my shoulders, we step into the kitchen to find Nonna cooking away. There’s a knowing smile on her face as she glances at us out of the corner of her eye.
“Sit,” Valentina says, releasing her hold on me to flick her long hair over her shoulder. Since she’s hovering over my spot, I sit in the next chair along as she shakes her head in disbelief. “What the fucking hell were my brothers thinking? Don’t you worry though, I’m going to take care of all this bullshit. You’re coming home with me.”
My eyebrows pinch in confusion as I glance at her. “I’m good where I am, Valentina. I—”
“Call me V,” she interrupts, and it takes me a second to process what the fuck she’s saying. We go from one subject to another in a split second and it makes my head spin. No wonder I fucking like her.
“Okay,V, but if we’re being real with each other, I live for this shit. If anything, today was a good bit of exercise,” I admit as she gives me a pointed glare, one that I match with my own, and after a moment, her face relaxes and she sighs with a soft smile.
“You really are meant to be here, Wren. Only a fucking De Luca would say something as crazy as that. Am I right, Nonna?” Nonna chuckles and nods.
These two are a force to be reckoned with. I would deem them more of a handful than the damn brothers themselves.
“I agree, but let's get the girl some coffee before you start going on a tirade.”
Valentina tosses her head back with a laugh as her hand falls to my shoulder. “Nonna, please, she needs something far stronger than coffee.”
Nonna rears her head back, gaping at Valentina like she just stole her last piece of chocolate from under her nose. “Nothing takes the edge off quite like my coffee, Valentina, don’t try me,” she grumbles, before turning her back to us and starting up the coffee machine.
Valentina doesn’t utter a word in response as she smirks at me before taking the seat to my left. The peace that settles over the room has me relaxing back in my seat, my head lulling slightly as I take my time to regulate my breathing.
Fuck, that was fun.
I don’t know what I enjoyed more though, proving the spectators wrong, making the asshole in the weapons circle bleed, or having the brothers be somewhat protective over me. The latter is definitely making my heart beat a little faster, and I like it.
“Did you see what she did out there, Nonna? From the aftermath of a man bleeding out in the grass and another looking red and swollen in the face, I would say she had fun putting those grown-ass men in their place.” Valentina eyes me as she recounts what she saw, and I can’t wipe the smile from my face.
“I was watching. It was a lot more fun than the aftermath even gives her credit for,” Nonna responds, and when I tilt my head further back to look at her upside down, she winks at me.
“Was this one of my brother's tests?” Valentina asks, turning her attention to me as I sit upright once more, but before I can offer a single word in response, the De Luca brothers step into the room.
I don’t turn to look, but holy fuck, I know it’s them without a shadow of a doubt. I have their footsteps mastered, their presence is palpable around me in a way I’ve never felt or understood before. I just know it’s them.
Matteo appears in my line of sight first, his hair swept back off his face as he takes his usual spot at the head of the table. My tongue peeks out, running slowly over my bottom lip as I look him over from head to toe.
There’s a lightness to him today, a sense I haven’t felt coming from him before, not even on that night at the club, and it’s like he’s a different person. Gone are his dark and serious eyes and the tension that radiates from his body when he assumes his role as head of the family, and in his place stands a brother, a man, a son.
My attention is drawn to the right when Enzo takes his seat to the left of Matteo, wearing nothing but his shorts and abs. My mouth dries up with need as my gaze meets his. The smirk on his lips tells me he’s well aware of the impact he has on me. An impact he fucking loves, craves, needs.
Shit, I’m so screwed.
My heart races in my chest at the sound of a third chair dragging along the floor. Partly because I know it’s Vito, the man laying claim to me even though he’s barely uttered a word to me since we arrived here, but more so because he’s not pulling out the chair beside Enzo that he usually takes. No. It’s the one next to me.
A weird tingling swirls in my stomach, possibly like butterflies fluttering their wings against my insides, or maybe it’s hundreds of bees assaulting me with their stings all at once. Either way, it’s worth enduring for this moment of peace that settles over me.
I don’t look to Matteo or Enzo to see their responses to Vito’s move as I draw my attention to the man himself. His eyes are already aimed my way, his left hand resting on the back of my seat as he relaxes in his. My gaze is pulled to the bobbing of his Adam’s apple, and my fingers plead to reach out and run over the scarred skin at his neck to feel the motion for myself.
I’m so engrossed in checking him out that I miss the smile that spreads across his face before he opens his mouth. “Your eyes are feasting on me so hard you’re practically panting, Wren.”
I almost gasp at the sound of my real name on his tongue, my body buzzing with excitement as I scramble to think of a response, but I don’t have a single one.
He’s right, and I don’t even care to try to deny it.
My eyes are locked on his, my voice frozen in my throat as Nonna’s arm cuts between the two of us and breaks the moment. She places a mug of coffee down in front of me, the smell reaching my nose as my eyes remain locked on Vito’s.
“Oh. My. God. All four of you are menaces. That’s you three assholes and you, Wren, just to clarify. Total. Fucking. Menaces. I told you years ago you better find one woman who can cope with the three of you because there is never going to be three of them in this world,” Valentina declares, amusement clear in her tone as I rub my lips together and opt to grab my mug before I say something stupid. If only I could get my tongue to work.
“Shut up, Valentina,” Matteo grumbles, no real bite behind his tone as his sister chuckles at him.
