Page 2 of Sweet Temptation
Of course he is.
“When’s she moving in?” We walk out of the locker room, and I thank fucking God we didn’t ride in together today.
“Tomorrow...” He looks at a message on his phone before he climbs into his Jeep. “Mom wants to know if you want to come to their house for dinner.”
Do I want to see Lexie tonight after her being gone for close to a year?
Like I said . . . Spectacularly. Screwed.
“Nah, man. Tell Momma C I said hi though.” I wink and duck when he swings. “Dude, it’s not my fault your mom’s a smoke show.” I’ve always busted Linc’s balls about how hot his mom is. Mainly because it was easier than admitting his sister is even hotter.
“Luciano,” Nonna smacks my hand with her wooden spoon and smiles. My grandmother might hate when we taste her sauce before it’s done, but she loves me enough to let me do it anyway. “It’s almost ready. Go wash up for dinner.”
I suck the sauce off my finger and grin. “Needs a little garlic, Nonna.”
Nonna’s eyes widen before she shakes her head. She knows I love to tease her. But as I walk away, I catch her tasting the delicious fresh tomato sauce she makes this time of year, every year, to make sure I’m wrong. I am, of course. Nonna’s sauce is always perfect. But that makes it even more fun to tease her.
I wash my hands because I don’t feel like getting yelled at by a woman who’s lived through the Great Depression. Not really, but we all like to tease her about her age. No one actually knows how old Nonna is. Maybe she’s lived through both world wars. No one knows, but I’m not stupid enough to ask.
“Did you come to raid the fridge, or do you have laundry you need done?” My brother Rome walks into the kitchen, a beer in his hand, then grabs a piece of homemade garlic bread from the counter.
The scent of the garlic and warm fresh bread invades my brain, and my nose follows it like that cartoon skunk following his favorite scent.
“Dinner,” I admit and rip off my own piece of bread. Still piping hot. God, I love my grandmother’s cooking. “You?”
“Laundry,” Mom announces as she walks into the kitchen and moves between my brother and me. She kisses my cheek before glaring at Rome. Amelia Beneventi is a force of nature. She’d have to be, to be married to Dad. Seriously, he might rule the city, but she rules our family. Lucky for us, she does it with a little less violence and a lot more cooking. “Roman Beneventi, do you need me to give you the number for a laundry service again?”
“What... and deprive you of the joy you get from doing my laundry?” Rome asks as he kisses the top of Ma’s head and smirks at me above her so she can’t see.
For a short woman, she gave birth to tall sons.
“I don’t do your laundry, Rome. The cleaning service does.” She smacks his hand when he tries to grab another piece of bread and shoves a stack of plates into his hands instead. “Now go set the table.”
“I wasn’t staying for dinner—” he starts but is at least smart enough to stop when she nails him to the wall with her stare. “Sure, Ma. Is it just us?”
She cups my cheek in her hand. “Are you staying for dinner or taking it home with you, Lucky?”
“He is if I am,” Rome argues.
I ham it up for Ma’s sake with a shit-eating grin. “Course I am. Now put me to work.”
“You want to come to the gym tomorrow?” Rome asks from across the table as we carb load on fresh pasta and marinara. “I could use a sparring partner. No one is around for the next few weeks.”
“Because they’re all at the beach enjoying the end of the summer,” Mom lectures. “Why don’t you try it, Roman? It might be good for you to take a break from fighting for a weekend or two.”
“Leave him alone, Snow,” Dad chides softly. “He’s a professional. He can’t just take off for the beach.”
The two of them go back and forth while I tune them out and shake my head at my brother. “Can’t. Gotta help Linc move Lexie in.”
His brows shoot all the way up to his hairline. “Lexie? Like little Sinclair, Lexie?”
“Yup.” I twirl the strands of capellini around my fork and shove it into my mouth before I say anything else.
“Damn...” he murmurs low enough not to draw any unwanted attention to our conversation. “And where is she moving? I didn’t even know she was back.”
“That makes two of us. I guess she came back today, and she’s moving in with us.” Fuck me. Rome looks like an owl, his eyes get so big. My brother, the welterweight MMA fighter, likes to gossip more than any girl I’ve ever met. I swear he gets off on it. “Linc let me know today.”
“You’re fucking screwed, man.”
