Could his heart warm for her any more?
“I might not be able to make pasta from scratch, but I can chop and mix and taste . . . I’m an excellent taster.”
“You’re sure?” he asked.
She waved the apron before wrapping it around her waist.
Luca couldn’t help but wonder what she would look like with only the apron on.
He shook the fantasy from his head and walked into his kitchen. When he passed her, he placed a hand around her waist in a touch that only two people who had been intimate would know.
“I think this might also be a good time for us to talk about Franny.”
Luca opened his refrigerator. “What about her?”
Brooke lowered her voice. “If you haven’t dated much, we might be a shake-up in her life.”
He’d given that a lot of thought as well. More than once over the years his daughter had asked if she was going to get a new mama. Broke his heart every time she said it.
“I’ll go with whatever you want to do here, Luca. And regardless of how you and I play out, I want you to know that she will not be a casualty of us.”
“I’m not sure I’m following you.”
Brooke glanced across the apartment to the hallway to the bedrooms, then back at him.
“Let’s say we’re good. And Franny knows we’re dating, and she gets attached.” Brooke pointed a finger to her chest. “And then you change your mind about us. Or . . . I don’t know, something happens, and we decide this isn’t going to work.”
“You already have us breaking up.” He didn’t like the sound of this.
Brooke placed a hand on his arm. “Hear me out, okay? I’ve been on the other end of my mother’s failed relationships where I hung my heart on one of the good guys she should have held on to. When it was over, they were gone, and I was left thinking all men were assholes. I’d have been better off if she’d kept her casual flings out of our family home.”
“I already told you you’re not casual, cara.”
Brooke placed her other hand on his face, her expression softened. “I know. And I believe that’s what you feel . . . right now, today. I’m feeling the same way.”
He paused. “I feel a ‘but’ coming.”
“But . . . ,” she started. “If . . . if that changes, I need you to know, right now and from this moment on . . . that if Franny is involved and invested, I will be whatever she needs. Because she’s not asking for this . . . for us.” Brooke pointed between the two of them. “And if we don’t make it, it’s not fair that she is part of the fallout.”
Brooke’s hand on his arm had clenched into a fist. Her eyes were pinpoints and staring at his.
Her message, the one that said she’d put Franny first, punched him in the gut.
“Brooke . . .”
“I needed to get this out before dinner. Before there is any chance for us to show affection in front of your daughter. I won’t be offended if you want to hold off on that for her sake. You’re the dad here. You’re in charge. I just need you to know where I stand.”
This woman. This woman! “Do you have any idea what—”
“Franny!” Brooke said as an announcement, looking over his shoulder.
Luca dropped his arm from where he’d been holding Brooke’s hip and turned to see his daughter walking behind the kitchen island.
“Hi, Brooke. What are you doing here?”
Brooke took a step back, a little out of Luca’s reach. “I came to help your dad with dinner.”
Franny wiggled her nose. “Papa doesn’t need help.”
Brooke shrugged. “I know that.” She lowered her voice and pretended Luca couldn’t hear her. “I offered to help so I would find out what he puts in the ravioli so maybe I can make it on my own sometime.”
Franny jumped up onto one of the barstools. “I wanna help.”
Luca stopped staring at Brooke and watched his daughter. “Excuse me?”
“I wanna help. If you’re going to show Brooke, you can show me.”
Luca felt the air entering his lungs a little too fast.
Brooke glanced at him, her lower lip between her teeth.
“Okay, ladies. Put your hair back and your aprons on. Nobody wants hair in their pasta.”
“Do you have an extra hair tie?” Brooke asked his daughter.
Franny bounced off the barstool and reached out a hand. “In my room.”
The two of them walked away. . . Brooke glanced over her shoulder, a concerned smile on her face.
In the few minutes they were gone, Luca gathered his composure and made a plan.
Together his daughter and Brooke returned to the kitchen. Brooke’s hair was up in a messy bun, and Franny had a braid down her back.
“We’re ready,” Brooke announced.
He looked at the two of them.
“So am I.”
Luca brushed Brooke’s hair over the pillow and smiled down at her.
She was flushed and out of breath.
“You know, Luca . . . when you said you needed my help this morning, this isn’t exactly what I thought you had in mind.”
Their legs were still tangled from their lovemaking, their hearts still racing. He’d called her after taking Franny to school and asked her to come down.
“I needed the image of you in my bed,” he confessed.
“Do you practice saying all the right things?”
“It sounds like a line, but I assure you, it isn’t.”
Brooke stretched under him. “This beats yoga.”
“Don’t tell my sister that.”
“Chloe doesn’t want to hear any of it, trust me. After Gio’s comments at dinner last night, it’s safe to say your whole family knows what’s going on.”
“Giovanni needs to mind his own business.” His brother had joked about how relaxed they both looked. Brooke had blushed and his mother had smacked Gio’s shoulder to shush him up.
“Your brother teasing us means he approves. I’m not offended,” Brooke said.
“My family adores you.”
He felt Brooke run her foot up his leg. “Do you ever get the feeling your mother planned this?”
“Planned us?”
“Yeah. The way she was watching us last night made me wonder if she would have rented the apartment to just anyone.”
“We’ll eventually find out. I wouldn’t put it past her.”
Brooke lifted her lips to his for a brief kiss. “As much as I’d love to stay here all day, I have to get some work done.”
Luca rolled to the side and watched her climb out of his bed.
The image of her slim waist and heart-shaped butt would last in his mind for some time. “Let me know if you ever want to skip your yoga session.”
Brooke slipped into the clothes Luca had quickly rid her of once she entered his room.
“Skipping yoga is a great code name,” Brooke teased.
He put on a pair of shorts and walked her to his door.
“I pick Franny up at two thirty if you need a break.”
“You sure?” Brooke asked.
“I’m sure.” He kissed her and watched as she started up the stairs.
From below he heard a noise and saw his sister. “Well, well.”