Page 53 of Winter
“Um?”
“Thing is, Nancy invited us for dinner tonight. Can we put this—and by the way, thanks for picking it up—but can we save this for tomorrow?” Her apologetic smile faded as she took in the expression on his face. Irritation.
“Tommaso, I …”
He picked up the take-out boxes and started dumping them in the trash. She darted forward to stop him, placing a hand on his arm.
“Hey, hey … we can put it in the refrigerator.”
He pulled his arm away without looking at her. “It won’t be fresh. I don’t like to eat food that’s gone bad.” His tone was clipped and remonstrative.
Inca was taken aback at the petulance in his tone. She watched helplessly as he emptied the still-steaming food into the trash can. His movements were jerky and annoyed, his shoulders stiff with anger. “Tommaso?”
“I don’t want to talk about it, Inca. Not yet. Not now. We have a dinner party to go to.”
“Look at me.”
Tommaso hesitated, then met her gaze. Inca felt desolate at the pain in his eyes. “Oh, Tommaso. I’m so sorry.”
He held up his hands. “Please, Inca … not now.”
Inca moved silently out of the kitchen and went upstairs to dress. She could still hear him banging around downstairs. She sat on the edge of the bed, realizing that she was shaking with shock at Tommaso’s overreaction to the dinner and sadness at his obvious pain. Finally, the banging around stopped and she heard him on the stairs.
She got up and pulled the closet door open, pretending to look for something. She felt him watching her as he leaned against the doorframe.
“You should wear the pink dress. The one you wore on our first date.”
His voice was softer now, seductive. He was so changeable from one moment to the next. Inca stayed silent for a while, irritated herself now. She pulled out some fresh blue jeans and a T-shirt. She glanced at him then, her expression cool.
“I have to change.”
A small smile. “Of course.”
She closed the door behind her and stripped off, pulling on the fresh jeans, then pulling her long hair through the top of the T-shirt. There was a soft knock on the door. She sighed.
“I’m coming, Tommaso.”
She glancedover at him as he drove them across the peninsula. His expression was normal and friendly. It was as if his little temper tantrum hadn’t happened. He reached for her hand and she let him take it, feeling his large fingers squeeze hers gently.
Tyler opened the door to them with a warm smile.
“Welcome, welcome.” He hugged Inca and shook Tommaso’s hand. “I hope our invitation wasn’t too last minute.”
“Not at all. It was our pleasure. In fact, I insisted, didn’t I, Inca?” Tommaso clapped the older man on the back.
Inca gaped at him as the two men moved through to the living room, chatting. Nancy poked her head out of the kitchen.
“Hey, small fry. Come give an old lady a hand, huh?”
Inca could feelNancy watching her. She avoided the older woman’s eye, but knew what she was thinking. She could feel the question hanging in the air.
Tommaso’s hand was on her thigh. Openly. Possessively. It was an overtly sexual move that was completely inappropriate in front of her parents. She tried to shift her leg away from him, but as they sat around the dining table, any movement would have been an obvious slight.
Tyler and Tommaso were talking about … whatwerethey talking about? Inca realized she had tuned them out a while back. Her irritation at Tommaso hadn’t subsided. What was he up to? He’d been all charm, none of his early mood on display, talking to Tyler about his police career and about the property market. She, meanwhile, had been distracted, answering Nancy’s questions in monosyllables.
“That’s a beautiful ruby.” Nancy was talking to her now. Inca touched the jewel at her throat and tried to smile. It had been a gift from Tommaso a few weeks ago—back when she hadn’t slept with his twin brother.
God.
