Would they really need that many?
He stopped and looked at Brooke. “Who is this?”
Mari chided Gio in Italian, at least that’s what it sounded like to Brooke. “Ignore my youngest son.”
“A woman makes an effort, she wants to be noticed. Right, Brooke?”
She rolled her eyes. “Your sister told me you’re the biggest flirt in Little Italy.”
Gio placed his free hand over his heart. “I’m wounded.”
“His sister is right,” Mari scolded.
“My family is against me.” But he was smiling as he set the wine on the table.
“Not against you. Just pick one already and fill this table with grandbabies.”
Gio crossed to his mother, kissed her cheek. “In time, Mama. In time.”
Francesca burst onto the terrace at a run, her everyday pace, this time calling out, “Zio Gio! Zio Gio!”
Gio turned and swooped her up into his arms and spoke to her in Italian.
She giggled at whatever he said.
Mari turned to Brooke. “You should know that at Sunday dinners Franny is not allowed to speak in English. It is our way to ensure she is fluent.”
“That’s brilliant.”
“It’s how all of my children learned.”
“You’re a wise woman.”
Franny said something that sounded like a question.
Gio translated. “She asked if you speak Italian.”
Brooke shook her head. “No.”
Franny wiggled out of Gio’s arms. “I can teach you.”
Mari clicked her tongue and Franny instantly said the sentence again in Italian.
“I’d like that.”
“You’re very polite,” Mari said.
“No, truly. It’s a disadvantage only speaking one language.”
The matriarch of the family beamed. “Francesca will tax you, but she will learn more by helping you.”
Franny turned to the doorway and started rattling in Italian.
Brooke felt heat on her neck before she turned to see the cause.
Luca stood a few yards away, his hands laden with plates of food.
Gio moved to his side and took one from him.
Luca’s gaze swept her frame with an appreciative smile.
“Smells amazing,” Brooke said, trying to break the silence.
“There’s more . . .”
“I’ll get it, brother,” Gio said. He paused at Luca’s side, said something only the two of them could hear, and with a laugh, walked away.
“Papa, Papa . . .” Franny kept talking until he finally turned to her.
“Is that right?”
She nodded.
“My daughter is going to teach you Italian.”
Chloe showed back up with wineglasses, Gio on her heels with more food.
Soon the table was swept up with activity.
Wine was poured.
Sparkling water was poured.
Luca sat at one end of the table and Mari at the other.
Brooke was encouraged to sit to Luca’s right, and Chloe sat on her other side.
Gio and Franny sat beside each other.
Once everyone was seated, they paused.
Chloe leaned over. “We’re Catholic for one meal a week,” she whispered.
“We’re Catholic every meal, we say grace at least once a week,” Mari corrected.
For a quiet moment, Mari sent up thanks for their meal, for their family, and their new friend. When she was done, the noise commenced.
Dishes were passed around in a lively fashion.
Franny spoke to her grandmother in Italian, and Chloe announced that she and Brooke had started practicing yoga together. “You guys should join us.”
“You’ll never see me doing Happy Baby,” Gio said.
Brooke laughed. “If you went to a class, you’d see all the ladies doing Downward Dog,” she teased.
Gio stuffed a piece of bread in his mouth, spoke around it. “Too dangerous. My dog would get way too happy.”
She and Chloe laughed.
Franny said something, again in Italian, that Brooke didn’t understand, and Luca slapped the side of his brother’s arm.
“We can’t have a dog. Uncle Gio was joking,” Luca told his daughter.
Brooke caught on and tried to hold in her laugh.
“Behave,” Mari scolded her son.
Gio didn’t look at all offended as he washed the bread down with his wine.
With her plate filled, Brooke looked at the mounds of food. Salad, cheeses, pasta, some kind of chicken that smelled of lemon and was sprinkled with capers. It was all just so damn fantastic.
She felt Luca’s gaze.
Gio and Franny were talking back and forth, Chloe and Mari engaged in a conversation.
Brooke placed a hand on her wineglass and lifted it toward Luca. Thank you, she mouthed in silent acknowledgment of his effort. But more, for inviting her to be there.
He lifted his glass with a smile and they both sipped.
When they were done, he leaned close and encouraged her to lean in.
With his lips close to her ear, he said, “Can I compliment your beauty now?”
The cool night air instantly heated, and for a moment, it was just the two of them at the crowded family dinner.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Brooke walked quietly down the stairs, past the apartments of everyone else in the building, and onto the ground floor.
It was early.
The sun barely up early.
Her hair was in a ponytail, she wore shorts and a tank with a sweater tossed on to ward off the morning chill in San Diego that wouldn’t be there when she made it to Upland.
She let herself out the back door and stopped short when she looked across the parking lot.
Luca stood behind his SUV with two cups in his hands and a smile.
“Good morning, bella.”
“What are you doing?” Not only up, but awake and showered from the looks of it. His hair still a bit damp.
“Taking you to Upland.” He walked to her, grabbed the bag from her hand, and handed her what smelled like coffee.
“Excuse me?”
“Your list for today sounded as if it would take three to get through. I would only worry that you’d attempt to drive after doing it all, and since I’m not a fan of unwanted stress, I decided to help.”
“Excuse me?” Didn’t he have better things to do? And since when did a man she hardly knew volunteer to do the dirty work?
“You don’t want my help?” he asked, looking like a wounded puppy.
“I didn’t say that.”
Luca winked, moved to the passenger door of his car. “I’ll drive. My car has more room for the crap, as you called it, that you need to bring back.”
She hesitated at the door. “Are you sure, Luca? It’s going to be a filthy day. I’m tackling the garage and the oldest of the old files. Painting . . .”
“An honest day’s work.”
Brooke jumped into the passenger seat. “I’m not a fool. But I warned you.”
“You have done that.”
The streets in San Diego were quiet this early in the morning. “Make your way to the 15 and we won’t get off until we reach the 10.”
“You got it.”
She snuggled into her seat, sipped the coffee. “I can give you money for gas.”
Luca glanced over at her, then back out the windshield.
“I’ll take that as a no.”