Page 5 of Her Italian Wedding (Sweet Treats 9)

“The hotel is really deserted from the coronavirus pandemic,” I say ruefully. “I think we’ll have the hotel’s public spaces to ourselves.”

“All the better,” says Matteo with a knowing glance. “We’ll be able to enjoy our time together to the maximum.”

I stare at him as my cheeks flame. He didn’t say anything untoward, and yet there’s a subtle double entendre in his words. What did Matteo mean exactly?

But the two gorgeous men merely smile at me again, their blue eyes enigmatic. I try to make conversation once more, feeling a bit unsure.

“So you’re from the Milan Lodge?” I ask.

Matteo and Domenico share a glance and then chuckle.

“Well, I think “Lodge” is a little too generous at this point,” laughs Matteo. “We hardly have a structure yet, much less a full-fledged lodge.”

“We’re the only two members of the group in Italy right now,” adds Domenico. “We’re in the initial stages of start-up, which is why we don’t have a physical home, nor any other members.”

I stare at them.

“So it’s just the two of you? Really?”

They nod.

“Yes, at least for right now,” answers Matteo. “Of course, we’re recruiting at the moment. We’ve sent out feelers to potential truckers who could be good fits for Papà e Figlia, or Dads and Daughters, as you say in English.”

I nod.

“Oh wow. I had no idea that the club was in such an early stage. I thought that there was a Lodge somewhere, and that there would be members already living inside. I was under the impression that I was just the newest addition to a going-concern.”

Matteo grins.

“Well, we are a going-concern,” he says. “It’s just that there are only two of us right now. But we’re definitely running quite voluptuously,” he says.

I stare at him. Running quite ‘voluptuously’? What does that even mean? Domenico interrupts with a chuckle.

“Forgive my friend’s imperfect English, cara. What Matteo means is that the Milan Lodge is doing fine. Maybe we don’t have many members, but we’re getting there. Plus, we’re in the process of building a new lodge, like they do in the States. Right now, it’s nothing but a construction site, but we want to take you to see it tomorrow,” he says smoothly. “I think you’ll like the looks.”

I smile at them when we reach my room.

“Well, I know nothing about construction, but I’d be happy to go and see it, of course. It must be so exciting to design and build from scratch.”

I open the door with my room key, and it swings open to reveal a gorgeous suite with a living room, kitchen, and doorways leading to the bedrooms.

“Ah, I see they’ve upgraded you to a suite,” comments Matteo. “There’s no one else staying at the Hotel Continental right now, so why not? This is all yours,” he says, indicating the sweeping view and luxurious furniture.

I look around, stunned. I’m from humble beginnings. My parents raised me in a trailer, and our double-wide was home for many years. Both of my parents wanted to buy a real house, but we were never able to afford it. Instead, we shared the small space, and were as happy as two peas in a pod.

This hotel suite is nothing like a trailer, however. The living room is spacious and done in neutral creams and beiges. Low-slung couches are scattered about, with two flat screen TVs hung on the walls. Plus, the doors to the bedrooms are shiny, solid oak, and the kitchen looks to have marble countertops and a full range.

“Goodness!” I exclaim. “You could cook a feast in here!”

Matteo and Domenico grin.

“Do you cook?”

I blush.

“A little, but not well. I’m still learning the basics, like cacio e pepe.”

The two men nod solemnly.

“Cacio e pepe is much more difficult than it looks. Although it’s pasta with butter and pepper, it’s very difficult to get the right consistency of pasta, and the right mix of flavorings.”

I nod, eyes wide.

“Of course,” I breathe. “I would never presume to know pasta better than real Italians.”

The two men grin, their charming smiles making me go hot inside.

“It’s okay, cara,” says Matteo. “We cook too. Maybe we’ll cook for you while you’re here.”

I immediately blush because I can’t imagine these two men laboring over a stove, although there is something incredibly sexy about the visual. To hide my embarrassment, I turn and quickly stride to the floor-to-ceiling windows.

“The view!” I gasp, crossing my arms over my chest as my mouth opens with wonder. “Oh my goodness!”

The two alpha males put my luggage down and stand beside me, taking in the sumptuous city of Milan. To the one side, is the famous La Scala Opera House, and on the other, I can see the Duomo. In the distance, there’s even the faint shadow of the hulking Sforza Castle.

“Beautiful,” whispers Matteo.

“Absolutely gorgeous,” adds Domenico. I know they mean the view, but I can’t help but think they mean me, as well. I turn to the two men and lose myself in the depths of two pairs of sapphire eyes.

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