“That we’re friends, colleagues, neighbors?” I arched a brow. “My mom is old-school, sweetheart. If I tell her I’ve had my hand and mouth between your thighs, she’ll have a heart attack.”
She pulled her arm back and playfully whacked my chest, and I deserved that. But it was worth the smile on her lips and the fact she appeared to shed some of her nervousness.
Her eyes narrowed, and she surprised me by saying, “There you are.”
“Huh?”
“This you. This you is the one I know and love. The one Chiara adores. I can see you now. Lost you here and there since last night, but I . . .”
My world basically flipped off its fucking axis and I stopped hearing anything she’d said after love. She probably meant it as a friend kind of thing, but I didn’t care. It was the first time she’d tossed that word my way, and I’d latch on to it and save it for when I started to lose myself all over again and needed to find my way back to her.
But hell, she was right. Standing there with her on my parents’ driveway, the ground wet, gray skies and all, I could be whoever she needed me to be. And for a few seconds, I nearly considered letting the police handle Bianca’s case.
“Can you do me a favor?” I reached for her hand, forgetting our audience again, because maybe there was hope for me after all. Maybe she was right, and she had the power to ground me. Keep me from falling too far. Too dark.
“Anything,” she murmured.
“Remind me of who I am from time to time.” I squeezed her hand. “The man you see. The one you think I am, at least.”
Her eyes became slits, as if somehow my words nearly drew tears from her. “I’d happily remind you every hour of every day.”
“Are you two coming or what?” Izzy called out, breaking us from the moment, and she waved as if we didn’t see them waiting for us. And for whatever reason, they both seemed to sense it was better not to come to us.
“You ready?” I let go of her.
“I can do this,” Maria said under her breath.
“I got you,” I promised. “Always.”
“And here I thought I came to New York to have your back.” Only half her mouth smiled that time. An awkward but adorable one.
“Maybe it can go both ways?”
“Only a ‘maybe’？”
I grabbed our bags and tipped my head, motioning for her to walk. “I’m a work in progress,” I admitted. “I’m trying.” And I really was.
“Finally!” My mom tossed her hands in the air as we approached, and then she eagerly pulled Maria in and squeezed her.
I set down the bags inside the foyer. “Come here, you,” I said to Izzy and gave her a big bear hug, because it’d been too damn long since I saw my little sister. I swallowed. My only sister now.
Izzy squeezed me right back, holding on longer than I expected. I spied Maria doing her best to answer questions my mom was rapidly firing her way.
“Where’s everyone?” I asked, rescuing Maria from my mother’s inquisition. Giving one last squeeze, I released my sister, who immediately walked over to Maria and embraced her.
“The boys are in the study downstairs. Your father got tied up with something in the city. He promised he’d be home before dinner, though.” Mom grabbed hold of my forearm and pulled me tight to her side while patting my arm like I was five. “What’s up with the extra security Constantine hired? We expecting trouble?”
I knew my brother already gave her a reason why he had the extra security detail at the estate, but Mom was trying to entrap me. Ensuring Constantine had told her the truth. Knowing our history, I didn’t blame her.
I looked back and forth between her and Izzy, trying to remember what Constantine had told me over the phone. “Homeland Security,” I sputtered at the memory, finally jarring it loose from my brain. “DHS said there’s been an increase in threats against some of New York’s wealthiest families, and he’s overly cautious. I’m sure there’s nothing to worry about, Ma.”
Her brows slanted. Nope, she wasn’t buying our bullshit, but she wouldn’t want to worry Izzy, and with Maria in her presence, she wouldn’t press. “Well,” she said, eyes on Maria, “I’m putting you in Enzo’s old bedroom.”
“Maria and I are sharing a room, huh?” I pulled my arm free from Mom’s so she could swat me like I knew she was about to, and yup, right on the arm like my teacher used to do at Catholic school with the ruler. What could I say? I had a mouth on me back then.