Brooke opened the door, promptly at seven, to a threshold filled with flowers. Behind them stood Luca, a smile as broad as the sky. One look at her and that smile turned sultry, and the flowers dipped low. “Bella!”
“Are those for me?”
A combination of peonies and roses screamed that Luca had taken Hyun up on his offer.
“Beautiful flowers that don’t come close to how stunning you are.”
Brooke had spent the afternoon pampering herself. A blowout and a mani-pedi put her in the right frame of mind for a date. She wore a cap sleeve dress in dark blue and had a sweater to go over it as the night progressed.
From the look in Luca’s eyes, it worked.
He wore a button-up shirt, slacks, nice shoes. He’d groomed some of the roughness off his face and left enough to keep the sexy edge she’d grown to like. “You clean up well yourself.”
She reached out for the flowers. “Should I put those in water before we go?”
“Right.” He handed them to her and followed her inside.
“You really didn’t have to take Hyun up on his flower offer.”
“Would you have been disappointed if I didn’t?”
Brooke’s immediate reaction was to shake her head, but “Yes” came out of her mouth.
“Your honesty is refreshing.”
She did not have an empty vase but did find a glass pitcher that made a good substitute.
Once she was satisfied the flowers wouldn’t die while they were out, she dried her hands on a kitchen towel and turned to Luca. “Ready?”
He reached for her hand.
They walked down the stairs side by side. Instead of heading out the back, where the cars were parked, Luca directed her through the door to the restaurant.
It was packed. Typical for a Saturday night. “Do you need to check on something?”
He shook his head but moved toward the bar. “No, mia cara, this is to help those tongues stop wagging.”
“How exactly—”
“Luca?”
Giovanni stood a few yards away and waved him over.
Luca raised a hand, turned to her, and leaned close to her ear. “Give me a moment?”
She smiled, noticed a server, a hostess, and the bartender watching them. “Okay.”
Luca winked as he walked away.
The eyes that were on her darted in other directions when she glanced up.
“Can I get you something, Brooke?” Sergio asked.
She shook her head. “I don’t think so. We’re headed out.”
“Oh.”
Luca was already walking back her way. He stopped in front of her, smiling. “Ready?”
“Yes.”
He leaned down, kissed her briefly for all to see. “That should do it,” he whispered.
“You’re crazy.”
Luca reached for her hand and walked her out of the restaurant.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Coasterra was an upscale Mexican-style restaurant on Harbor Island that overlooked the San Diego Bay and had magnificent views of the city.
Luca had managed a table on the water’s edge without anyone sitting in front of them.
The food was reminiscent of the time Brooke had gone on a girls’ trip to Tulum. Fresh fish and a variety of vegetables cooked with Mexican spices. They had jalape?o margaritas and were finishing their meal off with a shared sorbet and coffee.
“Did you always want to be a chef?”
“I was destined to be a chef. I learned to cook before most learned to read. My father would bring me into the kitchen every week. When I started school, my math lessons were in the kitchen, then eventually in the office.”
“You were groomed to take over the restaurant.”
He shrugged. “I’m the oldest.”
“You could have said no.”
“Don’t look so glum. I didn’t want to. I like tradition and family. Having a foundation for my daughter. How many people have that these days? In this country? How many family businesses die in one generation? My grandfather built this, passed it to my parents, and it will be passed on to me and my brother and sister.”
“Do you see Giovanni and Chloe being an active part of D’Angelo’s forever?”
“Forever is a long time. Gio thrives in wine. His place is on a vineyard. Maybe he returns to Tuscany . . . perhaps he finds land an hour north and builds his name in Temecula. But he always has a place here. And Chloe . . .”
“Chloe has other ideas.”
Luca reached out and grasped Brooke’s hand. “My sister is wise to know she wants something different.”
Brooke squeezed his fingers in hers, felt the safety of his touch. “Do you bring Francesca into the kitchen with you?”
His smile wavered. “No.”
That surprised her. “Why not?”
“I’m waiting for her to ask.” Luca looked out over the bay.
“To give her a choice.” Brooke’s heart melted just a little bit more for the man sitting across from her.
Luca gave a single nod.
“I may not feel a burden for what I’ve taken on. There is no guarantee my daughter won’t.”
“You’re a good man, Luca.”
He brought their joined hands to his lips, kissed her fingers. “Are you finished?”
She looked at her empty coffee cup with a nod.
They walked along the outside of the restaurant with other couples enjoying the bright lights of the city reflecting off the water and the romantic aura in the air.
“I really do love this city,” Brooke told him. “Where else can you walk around in a sweater in late spring and not feel cold?”
“Do you miss Seattle?”
“Not at all,” she said without hesitation. “I miss Carmen. But we talk all the time. There’s a couple of other friends I used to hang out with. But their families keep them busy, and when you don’t have kids of your own, they tend to fade off. Carmen is the only one that didn’t change our friendship after she had Ben.”
They stopped to look at the lights of the city.
Luca placed an arm around her shoulders. “Do you want children?” he asked.
Brooke knew he’d ask the question at some point. “I do.”
He pulled her close and kissed the side of her head.
She hated that she felt the need to ruin a beautiful night with reality, but it wasn’t fair to him if she didn’t start with the honesty he deserved.
“I think I should tell you something.” She felt her body stiffen.
“Okay.”
She took a deep breath.
Couldn’t find the words.
“Whatever it is, bella, it’s all right.”
Deep breath in.
Slow breath out.
“I don’t know if I can have kids.”
Luca was silent.
“Two months before my father had his stroke, I had a miscarriage.”
Luca tightened his hold on her. “Oh, cara.”
“The hurt was so deep in my soul.” She pressed her fist to her heart. “I can’t describe it. And then . . .” The next part was worse . . . somehow.
He turned her toward him, placed both hands on the sides of her face. “It doesn’t matter.”
“But it does. Marshall proved in those moments that he didn’t want to be a father. I’ve stayed on birth control just in case. And once I realized things were never going to work with him, I was thankful.” She lowered her eyes. “I feel like such an awful person for even thinking that.”