Page 39 of Ciao, Amore

Nico shook his head. “Shit. I’m sorry. You know I tried getting seats on your flight for me and Dani, but it was sold out.”

“Sorry for what? I’ll make sure he’s good from now on, alright? You got something better to focus on.”

When Nico flushed, Angelo grinned. “Nah, seriously. You do look happy. Things are going good, then? Like, real good?” Angelo asked with searching brown eyes.

“Yeah. Yeah, real good. She’s…” Nico laughed at how easily words failed him when it came to her, even talking to the person who probably knew him better than anyone else. “She’s fun. I’m really having a good time with her.”

Anyone else would interpret that as meaning they were fucking nonstop. While that one time with her had blown him sideways, Angelo would know sex wasn’t all he meant.

Nico considered for a minute that maybe he should confide the whole story in his brother. Angelo would think how it started was crazy, sure, but he might understand the dilemma Nico was facing a bit better, how Dani was throwing a curveball into an already confusing equation. Before he could say anything, Angelo hit him in the chest, hard, like a younger, bigger version of Pop.

“That’s good, big bro. You deserve that shit if anybody does.Bravo, Nico.” He took a sip of his wine in salute. “Ready for tonight? I have a feeling it’s gonna be crazy this year.”

13

LA PROCESSIONE

NICO

When Nico had offeredDaniela the opportunity to come with him to Naples, she’d agreed to three specific activities. The first was Mass to witness the miracle of Saint Gennaro, and the last was the family dinner before going home. The event in the middle was the one everyone enjoyed the most and looked forward to with relish every year.

“The night before the big Mass, when we’re all there and settled in,” Nico had explained in a video chat, “we have a formal dinner together at the villa. Beautiful food, great wine, a chance to clean up good and dress fancy. All the couples enter the dinner one by one in something we callLa Processione. Apparently, that’s what they used to do back in the day when they’d welcome the other nobles or some rich merchants for a dinner or a ball. It’s the one tradition my great-grandfather never dropped.”

The tradition of inviting nonfamily members had also stuck. This year’s guests would be the deputy mayor of Naples and his wife, along with some government officials from Rome who were vacationing off the nearby island of Capri on a yacht. Nonno had cultivated these relationships over years for the sake of his business.

“Me and church have been iffy since I graduated from St. Stephen’s in the eighth grade, but I’ll go to Mass. My mom is going to love you forever for finally getting me to go back,” Dani had said, and he laughed. “But the procession? You’re telling me you want me to participate in a noble centuries-old tradition while wearing something cute? Oh my God, somebody pinch my ass.”

“I’ll volunteer for that. Just kidding.”

Nico had never brought a date with him toLa Processioneor the following dinner; even the one summer he and Steffi had tried dating for Nonni’s sake. They’d been chaste, strictly no fucking, only basic over-the-clothes, unsatisfying touching that had felt weird and sleazy, and not in a good way. They’d been done by late August.

Gina was usually the one he escorted to the dinner. This year, knowing it would be Daniela he’d greet at the top of the stairs and present to Nonno and Nonni, a wave of excitement coursed through him. He could hardly stand still on the tailor’s dais while the final adjustments were made to his suit. After a few more errands, the men made their way back to the villa to get ready.

She’d refused to show him what she would wear and had turned down his offer to take her shopping in New York or here if she wanted an Italian designer. Dani said her sister was a genius with design and would make her dress at the studio where she worked. The shoes, the bag, everything would be a surprise to him. He trusted her judgment implicitly, having seen how she already dressed even when casual. Rather, it was the rush of anticipation at seeing her at all after several hours without her that filled him.

You thirsty fuck, he berated himself, but he couldn’t help it. He wanted to see her, touch her, talk to her. Hopefully, she’d have something good to say about her day.

In the house, he greeted everyone he passed with a hug or hand slap while seeking her. Dani wasn’t in the living room, family room, or the kitchen, where Nonni ordered about the extra hands they hired for the dinner. Library, same; theater room, same.

When he reached the end of the second-floor hallway where their rooms were located, he knocked on her door, and finally, she cracked it open to peer at him sideways, showing him nothing but her eyes and her nose. Cute as they were, he needed to see more. Before he could push the door open, Dani wedged her foot at the bottom to stop him.

“I’m getting dressed. You’re gonna need to hustle if you want to make it on time, too,” she admonished, looking down at his clothes from the afternoon.

“Kiss?” he asked, gesturing toward the other bedrooms down the hallway.

“Don’t even try it. Nobody’s there waiting to see if you kiss me,” Dani said, twisting those lips he was dying to taste again.

Rather than whine that it had been hours and confess he needed a hit of her, he breathed deeply and backed away from the door.

“Fine. I’ll see you outside in an hour and a half. Don’t be late,” he drawled.

“Oh, snap. You know I am never late, so you can keep comments like that to yourself, sir,” Dani shot back, and he grinned. If he wasn’t going to get her sugar, he’d gladly take a little of her salt instead.

“My comments and my hands too, I guess.” He drank in her answering smile, hands thrust into his pockets to stop himself from reaching in there and grabbing her anyway.

“Whatever. Get away from my door.” She shooed him off. Then she changed her mind and said, “No, wait. Did you get a chance to mention to somebody that my bathroom is crazy? It got worse while we were out. I had to put a towel under the sink and use your shower again.”

Perturbed to hear that, he frowned. “I mentioned it to Nonno at lunch, yeah. We’ll have to see how fast we can get a plumber out here, but I doubt it’ll happen until tomorrow afternoon at the earliest.” At that last thought, he rubbed his chin, thinking of the implications. He swaggered closer again and leaned on her doorframe with his arm over his head. “Looks like you might have to get in my shower again if you get a little dirty tonight.”

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