Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 97371 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 487(@200wpm)___ 389(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97371 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 487(@200wpm)___ 389(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
“You don’t have to be involved if you don’t want. I can do the event. You can help at the restaurant, but you don’t have to attend the service.”
“We’ll be closed that night. It will look odd if I’m not there. Don’t worry about it.”
He opens the back door to his X4 truck and takes the flowers to place them in the car and then opens the door for me. Before I can climb in, he grasps the back of my neck and kisses me so passionately, my toes curl in my Crocs.
He places his forehead to mine. The air seems to shift as he takes on the serious air from a few nights ago. “Trust me, Carleen. I need you to trust me.”
I lift on my toes and kiss his lips as he tries to back away. “I’ve trusted you all my life, Rio.”
He pecks my lips, then nods to himself. I get into the car and settle into the seat. Again, I note that something is changing. I know my best friend. However, I don’t want to push. If he wants me to know, he’ll tell me.
Chapter 10
Remember When
Dario
This bathwater is roasting my nuts, but I grin and bear it. The things I’m willing to do for this woman. I sit back against the tub, waiting for the water to cool with my eyes closed.
Carleen sits between my legs with her back to my front and her head back against my chest. She’s so relaxed. I felt the moment she released the stress of the day.
I pray with all that I am that the answers I find in Italy won’t take this away from me. Whatever I find, I’m coming back to my woman. I furrow my brows as something dawns on me.
“What’s on your mind, Dario? You’ve grunted like three times already,” Carleen’s sweet voice cuts through my thoughts.
“Papa Riccardo is racist,” I reply absently.
She snorts. “No shit. You’re just figuring that out? That man is the embodiment of all the bigot Italian stereotypes I’ve seen in the movies and on TV. If I didn’t know the rest of your family, I’d think everything on the TV was true.”
I shift a bit behind her to look into her face. Anger seizes me as I wonder if he’s ever done some shit to her behind my back. She turns to face me and places a hand on my chest.
“Calm down, killer. He’s never stepped out of line with me. It’s just the way he says things and how he looks at me. I’ve heard him call others names and make remarks, but never to me.”
“You know we don’t think like that and Nonno has never shown that type of behavior. Yeah, I know it happens in our culture, but never in my home. Not even from my dad.”
“Relax, Rio, I’ve never felt unsafe around you or your brothers. Nonno is a sweetheart. I…I never saw you interested in a Black woman, but I thought that was preference.”
“You’re the only Black woman I’ve ever wanted. If I couldn’t have you, I didn’t want any, not because I’m not attracted.
“To be honest, I already know our children together could never follow in my footsteps, but that doesn’t matter to me. That might be a good thing.”
She knits her brows. “How so?”
I thin my lips and think about my next words. I don’t know how much I want to tell her about my family’s real life. For years, I’ve had to think twice when having her over if Nonno was in town.
My father was never brought into the life. Not on the level my brothers and I have. His places of business and our home have always been safe and as close to civilian as you can get. However, Nonno’s presence always changes things.
“It’s a blood thing. Our children wouldn’t be considered for a lot because you’re not Italian. Your family can’t be traced back to the other side.”
“You mean, they could never be made? Dario, are you telling me you’re a made man?”
I kiss her forehead and remind myself I’ve fallen in love with a brilliant woman and keeping her out of my world will be harder than I thought. She’s smart and observant. Carleen could never be oblivious.
She’s called out her own family members for dealings not so above the board. While I know the truth, I’ve never confirmed or denied her suspicions.
“I’m not telling you anything. I’m a chef and I run a restaurant with my future wife,” I murmur against her skin.
“Your what?”
“You heard me. Remember our wedding?”
She bursts into laughter. I remember it like it was yesterday. I was so proud and happy. I even bought her candy as a wedding gift.
“Oh, my God. I had a tummy ache from all that candy,” she groans.
“I told you not to eat it all in one day.”