Page 86 of Replay
“Bourton-on-the-Water is the Venice of Cotswolds.” Nonno points at a bridge where someone is rowing beneath. “It will never come close to our beautiful Italy, but it’s home now.”
I notice Santino stiffen in front of me, so I reach forward to touch his shoulder. He turns his head to look at me, forcing a smile that doesn’t seem all that natural.
Moments later, we park in an alley beside a large brick building, and Santino holds my hand as we follow Nonno towards the street entrance of the deli. When Nonno rounds the corner out of sight, I pull Santino back and force him to look at me. “Are you alright?” I give his hand a hard squeeze.
“Of course,” he responds, frowning. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
I peer up at him, trying to see through those dark, masked eyes of his. “You seem off.”
“Don’t be silly.” He pulls me close, wrapping his hands around my waist, offering me an easy smile. “I’m fine.”
My head tilts. “Are you nervous for me to meet your family?”
He huffs out a laugh. “You’ve already met my family.”
“I know, but not as your girlfriend.” Insecurity niggles in my belly. “Do they know we’re together now?”
“Yes, they know. Nonno washed the bloody car for you.” His brows furrow with confusion. “Where’s this coming from?”
My shoulders lift as I try to figure out why I’m losing my mind right now. “Just feeling nervous, I suppose.”
“Don’t be nervous.” His hands tighten around my waist as his eyes fall to my lips. “You know I love you, right?”
A flutter of warmth runs through my entire body because those words from his lips still have not lost any impact. “You’ve mentioned that once or twice.”
He goes quiet for a moment and then says, “And you’re happy with me?” His face is full of uncertainty.
“Yes,” I answer with a laugh because this is all so bizarre that we’re both just messes of insecurity despite the fact that we’ve spent every spare minute together for the past few weeks. How could I not be happy with a man as perfect and wonderful as Santino? I splay my palms out on his chest, my fingers teasing the fabric of his dress shirt. “I’m so happy that I’m annoying myself.”
“Good,” he replies, hitting me with a smirk that sends flutters through my belly. “Because you’re not annoying me one bit.”
“My God, you’re a charmer, aren’t you?”
I lift my hand to run my fingers through his hair, and he sags into my caress with a smile. His jaw muscle jumps as he leans in and nudges my temple with his nose, inhaling deeply, which causes me to lift my lips to his. When our mouths connect, it’s a soft, supple touch. His tongue strokes mine but not in the possessive, all-consuming way he’s been kissing me all week. This kiss is more of a gentle awakening that still manages to make my nipples pebble beneath my lace bra.
“Santino!” We jerk apart like two teenagers who just got caught snogging…which…is pretty much exactly what’s happening. It’s his nonna standing at the front of the building, watching us with a very angry look on her face. “Vieni dentro velocemente!”
She turns and storms off, leaving Santino’s mother behind as we make our way towards her, tails tucked firmly between our legs. His mother’s eyes lock on me with a knowing smile. “It’s really nice to see you again, Tilly.”
“It’s nice to be here,” I reply, tucking my hair behind my ear.
Carlotta turns towards Santino. “Figlio mio.” She pulls him down into a hug. “I’m so glad you’re both here.”
She stands between us and hooks her arms in ours, leading us around the corner towards the deli entrance. Just as we breach the threshold, several voices shout, “Happy Birthday!”
My jaw drops in confusion as I see Nonno, Bart, Angela, and a man and woman I haven’t met standing there singing. Nonna appears again, now carrying a white-frosted cake covered in candles towards Santino.
“It’s your birthday?” I ask, my eyes wide with horror as I glance at Santino, who does not look pleased.
“I told them I didn’t want to celebrate.” Santino shoots daggers at his mother, who’s standing between us.
“He never wants to celebrate.” Carlotta laughs, singing even louder, clearly not the least bit concerned by the mood radiating off her son. “But he is never home for his birthday so we shut down the whole shop in his honour.”
Santino looks stunned as he glances around and confirms there are no customers in sight.
“Buon compleanno, Santino,” Nonna says, holding the cake in front of him. “Esprimi un desiderio.”
“You didn’t have to do this.” Santino sighs, his jaw taut as he begrudgingly leans forward and blows out the candles. “It’s too much.”
