AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I decide it’s time to find Medici.
Medici
"Aaaaaand," I growl, sweat pouring down my forehead. "There you go, Nonno."
Nonno hacks up a lung as he wipes his greasy hand on his thigh. "Took you long enough."
I thrust the wrench down. "I don’t need the attitude."
"I’ve been asking you to fix my brakes for four days straight," Nonno grumbles. "I wasn’t able to get to the grocery store yesterday. I overheard your conversation with your boys, you know—they want pancakes. How am I supposed to get Nonna the correct ingredients without a car?"
"This is Italy. Head to the corner store down the street."
"They don't sell Aunt Jemima mix," Nonno snaps. "Your boys want the real American stuff."
I palm my forehead. "They’ll survive with Italian ingredients."
"I can already picture them whining my ear off," Nonno growls, so grouchy—geez, someone pissed in his cereal. "Wahhh, these aren’t authentic. Boo hoo, make new ones."
A smirk tugs at my lips. "You’re not wrong."
"That’s why I needed you to fix my damn brakes—so Nonna could make their much-anticipated breakfast right the first time around."
That’s when someone knocks on the door. "Daddy?"
I turn around and spot Mattie standing in the doorway. My heart pitter-patters in my chest.
He wears a blue T-shirt with a pair of sunglasses hanging from the collar. His thick hair flops lazily across his forehead, a few strands sticking up due to the wind. A sun-kissed tan swoops across his nose and cheeks.
He wears khakis that hug his ass—he looks like a dream. Thick. Lucious.Goddamn.
My sunflower reminds me of a donut.
"Come in, boy." The warmth bubbling up inside me is overwhelming. "Daddy’s fixing Nonno’s car."
He rushes to my side. "Oooh. I get to watch Daddy get his hands dirty."
Nonno tousles Mattie’s hair. "You’re a keeper. I’m not sure where Medici picked you up, but he’s lucky he stumbled across you."
Mattie’s cheeks flush pink. "Thank you, Nonno."
I pinch Mattie’s chin. "Want to help Daddy?"
Mattie’s eyes tilt up. He blinks hard, searching my face for any sign of deceit. I remember he didn’t have a present father growing up.
No one ever offered to show him around a garage. I picked this skill up in prison—fixing cars. I’m honored to include him.
"Uh huh." Mattie nods.
Wiping my dirty hand on my handkerchief, I hand him the wrench. "There you go, boy. Do as I tell you."
His hand sinks due to the wrench’s weight. "That’s heavy!"
"Gotta watch yourself." Walking behind him, I cup his hips. "I’ve got you, boy. Daddy’s here."
There’s a mirror across from us hanging on Nonno’s garage wall—that’s how I spot the intense expression of determination that flashes across his face.
I massage his waist, showing him that I’m here for him, that I won’t let him go.
