Chapter Six

A multitude of mouthwatering aromas wafted around me as I sat at the enormous dining room table, watching as dishes were passed around, Dante’s family speaking animatedly amongst each other. It was mind-boggling that less than a dozen people could make this much noise. There was certainly no lack of conversation. If this was just a small family gathering, I hated to think what Christmas dinner would look like in the Luciano household. I had a feeling it would be full of laughter, warmth, affection…love. A stark contrast to the Christmas dinners I’d grown up with. I’d never known what a real tree smelled like. Never baked cookies for Santa with my mother. Never woke up and bounded down the steps to see what the fat man in a red suit had brought me.

The sound of a fork clanging on a glass pierced the room. Everyone ceased talking, looking to the head of the table where Dante’s mother, Gabriella, stood.

“Before we fill our bellies,” she began, speaking in English to make me feel comfortable. “I wanted to take a moment to thank all of you for being here, for dropping whatever you were doing tonight to spend your evening with me. We may not have always seen eye to eye on everything…” She gave her older brother sitting beside her a playful glare. “Regardless, we’ve always stuck by each other. That’s what family does. At times, we may not like each other, but that doesn’t diminish the love we share.”

“Salute!” a few voices called out. Gabriella smiled politely, exhibiting so much grace. This wasn’t the first pre-dinner speech I’d sat through. I’d been witness to quite a few of my father’s and Brock’s over the years, but those seemed forced and fake. I’d barely spent more than an hour with this group of people, yet I knew Gabriella’s words were genuine. She said them because she meant them, not simply to earn favor with someone, as seemed to always be the case with Brock and my father.

“I’m truly blessed to have the family I do,” Gabriella continued. “To always have the support of my brother and cousins, who helped me raise my son when I thought my world was falling apart.” She turned to Dante, pinching her lips together to stop them from quivering. “You’re the best part of me…although you still have a bit to learn in the kitchen.” She winked, lightening the mood in the room. A few people chuckled politely. “It makes my heart full to see you genuinely happy for the first time in what seems like years.” She offered me an appreciative nod.

“There’s no way of knowing what our future holds. Life has a funny way of taking you in a completely different direction than what you originally planned. If one thing in my life were different, I doubt I’d be standing in front of all you wonderful people, being able to share this moment with you. Fate’s funny that way, isn’t she?”

Dante reached for my hand beneath the table, squeezing it. I shot my eyes to his, noticing a sparkle in his gaze, before returning my attention to his mom.

“I guess what I’m trying to say is thank you for traveling the same path as I.” She raised her wine glass, and we all mirrored her movements. “Salute.”

“Salute,” everyone responded.

“Now, mangia. Buon appetito.”

When I felt Dante’s breath on my neck, a shiver rolled down my spine. “Thank you, Eleanor,” he murmured.

“Why are you thanking me?” I asked in earnest, meeting his eyes. “I should be the one thanking you.”

“For what?” he pushed.

I chewed on my bottom lip, searching for the right words. “If I never ran into you, I doubt I would have been able to stay here. I probably would have already gone back home, back to that life.”

“I don’t think you give yourself enough credit,” he whispered, brushing a tendril of hair behind my ear.

“Because no one in my life ever did, except Mila…and now you.”

“I’ll always support you, mia cara, even if that means supporting your decision to leave me on Tuesday. Now, let’s eat.”

I studied him for a moment longer, wanting to list all the reasons why I should go back home in a few days, but decided against it. I didn’t want to ruin the happiness I felt at being surrounded by Dante’s friends and family by reminding myself it was short-lived.

“When did you tell your mom we were coming?” I asked under my breath, surveying the dishes upon dishes filled with more food than necessary for the ten bodies sitting at the table. It was as if Gabriella were trying to feed a small army.

“When you were packing,” he responded, spooning what appeared to be chicken onto both our plates.

“The drive wasn’t that long, was it?”

He shrugged, dishing more and more food onto my plate…pasta, green beans, mushrooms, bread. “Maybe a little over two hours.”

“How did she make all this in that short of time?”

“It’s her passion. She loves cooking. She loves being able to sit back and watch people enjoy what she’s created. Speaking from experience…” He leaned toward me, his mouth close to my skin. An ache settled in my stomach, my fingers burning to reach out and feel him. I’d never been so affected by another man. I doubted I ever would be again. “There is nothing more satisfying than knowing you brought someone so much joy, so much pleasure.”

“Is that so?” I murmured, licking my lips.

He sucked in a breath, his eyes locked with mine. “Yes. Now eat.”

“Why? Do I need energy for later?” I gave him a coy smile.

“No,” he answered, then paused. “Well, yes, but if you want to stay in my mother’s good graces, you’ll eat her food.” He grinned, grabbing one of the many bottles of wine and filling our glasses. “I’ve lost count of the number of girls I’ve dated she said were no good for me, all because they barely touched their food when they came over for supper.”

“Always the ladies’ man, huh?” I remarked, taking a sip of my wine.

“I—”

“Don’t let him try to tell you otherwise,” a voice interjected. We looked across the table at one of his cousins. When Dante had introduced us earlier, I think he said her name was Beatrice. She had the same dark coloring as everyone else, except for her eyes, the blue standing out among a sea of brown. “Dante always had a way with the girls. We were in the same grade throughout school, and all my friends always had their eyes on him. He’s certainly left a trail of broken hearts.”

“Look who’s talking!” he shot back playfully, a genuine smile on his lips.

I studied him, unable to shake the feeling that I was finally seeing the real Dante. Ever since he told me the truth, I felt as if he was able to drop all pretenses and be himself. He no longer had to be this mysterious, aloof stranger who had to watch what he said for fear he’d slip and reveal his secret. He could just be Dante. And truth be told, I liked this Dante best.

“If I remember correctly, Uncle Massimo had to chase a different guy off his property every night of the week.”

She shrugged, flashing a wicked grin nearly identical to one Dante had treated me to a few times. The fact they were related was unmistakable. “A little competition never hurt anyone. I needed to keep those guys on their toes.”

“And it worked.” A ruggedly handsome man sitting next to her slung his arm around her shoulders, a twinkle in his dark eyes.

“Giuseppe and Beatrice were what you Americans refer to as high school sweethearts,” Dante explained.

“But then we both went away to different universities.” She looked at Giuseppe, a small smile building on her lips. “Ten years ago, we ran into each other again in Palermo, of all places.” She returned her attention to me, a glow washing over her when Giuseppe leaned in and placed a soft kiss on her neck. Normally, I hated listening to other people’s accounts of how they met their significant others, always thinking it was some fabricated tale. After my unusual beginnings with Dante, I realized anything was possible. “He was engaged and working in finance in Rome. I had just opened my interior design business in Florence and wasn’t looking for any distractions.”

When he stole a glance at her, I could feel their love by the way their eyes met, neither one of them wanting to break the connection. I’d never seen anything so beautiful, so inspiring. I thought love like this only existed in the movies — the devotion, the heat, the yearning. My parents never looked at each other that way. Hell, for the longest time, I thought it was completely normal for a married couple to have separate bedrooms. Now I was beginning to think I had it all wrong. Maybe that kind of love did exist in real life.

“After seeing her again, I knew I’d been a fool to let her slip through my fingers once. I wasn’t going to let it happen again.”

“So you left your fiancée?” I lifted a brow, engrossed in their story. It was captivating…a second chance at love, a random encounter between two people who were somewhere neither one should have been, as if someone else was pulling the strings. Almost like Dante and me.

“I did. I loved her, but it wasn’t the same. When I looked at her, I didn’t feel that spark, that shock straight to my heart. Not like I do when I look at Bea…even to this day, after eight years of marriage and two kids. With every day that passes, she grows even more beautiful, despite the few gray hairs I see from time to time.”

She jabbed him playfully. “They’re your fault.”

He leaned down, placing a soft kiss on the top of her head. She melted at the contact.

“How did you two reconnect?” I asked.

Beatrice returned her attention to me, taking a sip of her wine before answering. “He found where I’d set up my business. One day, when I was closing up, he was waiting outside, holding the same kind of flowers he gave me on our first date back in school.”

“What were they?”

“Scarlet poppies. And if you haven’t figured out from being with Dante, stubbornness runs in the family. So I told Giuseppe I wasn’t interested. That I didn’t have time in my life for a relationship. That his life was in Rome and mine was in Florence, so how could we possibly have a future together?”

I felt a squeeze on my hand and glanced at Dante as he gave me a knowing look, lifting a brow. I playfully rolled my eyes before returning my attention to Beatrice.

“But he was persistent. He refused to take no for an answer. He said he was going to make it his mission to prove to me we could have a future, regardless of distance or anything else. That when two people belonged together, nothing could keep them apart. Over the next few months, he did just that. Two years later, we were married. We now have two wonderful children, all because this asshole wouldn’t take no for an answer.”

The conversation around the table had grown quiet as everyone listened to Beatrice, even though they’d probably all heard the story more times than they could count. That didn’t matter. They seemed just as engrossed, as if it were the first time hearing it.

“How about you two?” Giuseppe asked as I brought a forkful of pasta to my mouth. “How did you two meet?”

I nervously shifted my gaze to Dante, unsure what story he wanted everyone to know.

“She propositioned me for a night of passionate sex, then couldn’t stay away.”

I coughed, nearly choking on my food. Dante slid my glass of water toward me, a devilish grin on his face. Bringing the glass to my lips, I glanced at all the wide, shocked eyes staring at me, my face burning. Then raucous laughter broke out.

“Good one,” Giuseppe commented. “I’ll get the real story out of you one of these days.”