With a few weeks of bliss between me and Mauro, fall has rolled into Chicago, bringing the changing colors of the leaves, cooler weather, and stores full of items in preparation for Halloween and Thanksgiving.

The house is ready for the interiors to be installed and I’m practically giddy. This is my favorite part of any flip—when things start to look pretty.

“This house needs some color,” Mauro comments, grabbing my ass on his way to the kitchen.

I pull the paint roller away from the wall. “It’s neutral. Neutral sells.”

“How about red? Red hot just like you babe.”

“Spare us, please,” Luca groans walking into the house with a sub in his hand.

“You don’t see enough heart attacks that you decide to witness your own after eating all that processed meat?” I bring the roller back to the wall, running the cool gray color on the surface.

“Yeah, Ma’s not gonna like you. This is the Italian.” He holds up his sub. “You keep lecturing people about deli meat and you’ll drive them out of business. Then Mauro will be on the black list. Actually.” He pauses to think. “Go ahead and put up a sign in the front window saying how bad deli meat is for your health.”

Mauro comes back into the room, pushing him with his shoulder and then wrapping his arms around my waist, lifting my feet from the ground. I let the roller drop in the paint tray and his lips find mine as they often do these days.

“Get a room.” Luca disappears and Mauro quickly carries me to the half of bath that’s yet to be finished.

He cradles me in the corner where the sink and cabinet will go, his hands making quick work of my overalls, letting them fall to my waist.

“Hold up cowboy, we’ve got a house full of people,” I say with a smile.

This isn’t to say we haven’t already made quick work of most of the rooms in this house. The dining room table has been our favorite spot this week.

“So what? Like none of them have sex.” His lips are exploring my neck, his hands halfway up my chest, prepped and ready to cup me.

“Ew! Come on guys,” Cristian says as he walks in the room with his uniform on.

If Mauro had closed the door, there’s a good chance he would have had this way with me. You snooze, you lose.

Mauro glances behind him quickly and his hands might fall to my hips, but his lips are still traveling over my neck. “Aren’t you out of district?”

“I just got off, but if this is why you need my help tonight, then I’m out. If you’d keep your hands off each other, the house would probably be done by now.”

Mauro stops and puts me all back together, fastening my overalls back in place and kissing me on the forehead. “We’ll continue this later.”

Leading me out first, I go back to painting the wall. “Hi, Cristian. Thanks for helping.”

“Yeah, yeah. You owe me. Your friend is still giving me the cold shoulder and her dad keeps asking when I’m going to make good on our date. I’d lie, but I think he’s having me tailed.” Cristian sits on the dining room table.

Mauro and I share a look that has me biting my lip remembering how he took me from behind last night right where Cristian is sitting.

“Jesus.” Cristian hops off the table. “Is there anywhere I can sit in here?”

Mauro and I laugh uncontrollably. “Not really.” Mauro shrugs like it’s no big deal, while my face heats with embarrassment.

“I have to hear you screaming my brother’s name like he’s God all fucking night and now you drag me to a place where I have to imagine the two of you fucking in every corner?”

“Tell me about it. He grabs her ass every time he passes her.” Luca joins the party, crumpling up the sub wrapper in his hands. “It’s disgusting. These innocent eyes cannot unsee what these two do.”

We all laugh because Luca’s eyes have probably seen more than all of us combined.

“Come to the backyard. I need your help with this fountain.” Mauro winks at me. “Be right back.”

I place the roller down in the tray, not willing to let them handle this huge-ass fountain alone. It could very well land on all three of them. I linger by the window looking from afar to make it seem like I think they’re macho, but I’m ready to lend a hand at any second.

They each evaluate the situation and offer their take on how to move it. Cristian even looks like he’s doing a little diagram with his hands, directing the other two. Luca and Mauro squint their eyes and lift the edge, quickly putting it down. I told Mauro we should hire a service but he swears him and his brothers can handle this.

The statue isn’t even lifted off the base yet and they’re arguing.

“You bringing Maddie to dinner on Sunday?” Cristian asks, pretending to see what’s under the fountain.

They’re all delaying the inevitable.

“Yeah.”

“Big step.” Luca chimes in.

He’s right, it is. And though I’m looking forward to it, I am a bit nervous still.

“Ma’s already met her. I had her at the sandwich shop, she loved her, told me she saw our future together. I’m not shaking in my boots.” Mauro’s confidence shines through and I can only hope he’s right.

“What about the firehouse? You take her there yet?” Luca asks.

Mauro’s already shaking his head. “Not yet.” The sureness of his tone evaporates like sun beating down on a puddle.

“She knows you’re a firefighter, what could you possibly be afraid of?” Cristian asks.

I hate that I’m eavesdropping. Especially since I’ve shifted so that I’m not right in front of the window anymore, proving how badly I still feel like I need reassurance that he likes me.

“Let’s just move this fucking monstrosity, okay? You’re always jabbering on like a bunch of chicks.” If I wasn’t supposed to hear their conversation, I’d scold him for his depiction of women. Besides, I know what he’s afraid of and they don’t.

I give it to the three of them, they somehow get the fountain moved to the outside of the yard where the service is supposed to pick it up tomorrow.

The three of them walk toward the house and I run back to my roller, trying to lather on some layers.

“Let’s order pizza,” Luca says, finding his spot on the table, watching me paint.

The rest of the crew is packing up for the day and we all wave and say goodbye.

“You just ate,” I say, not turning around.

“I’m a growing boy, Maddie.”

“I can’t eat all that cheese, it’ll upset my stomach. I’ll get a salad,” Cristian says.

“Pussy,” Mauro coughs out.

Cristian comes up to my side and grabs the edger, stepping up on the ladder and helping out. He’s changed out of his uniform now and is in a tapered pair of athletic pants and a t-shirt that says Cop-A-Feel and an arrow pointing down. For some reason, he’s still wearing his belt with his gun on it.

“There’s something about a police officer out of uniform with his gun still on his belt painting a wall. Where’s a camera when you need it?” Luca pretends to snap a picture.

“I’m not going to lay this thing down just anywhere. Besides, it’s better than the two of you idiots watching her work.”

Mauro comes up behind me, his hand covering mine on the roller handle, moving it up and down the wall as he grinds against me. “Here, I’ll help.”

I slide my ass out, effectively moving him away. “That’s not helping.”

He laughs, pulling his phone out. “Gino’s or Lou’s?”

“Gino’s,” we all agree.

“Damn, we’re all Gino’s?” Luca asks, disbelief in his tone.

“I told you, she’s already like a Bianco,” Mauro says and I try not to let my heart leap out my chest, purposely ignoring his comment.

Madison Bianco.

I already knew when I was sixteen years old writing it on my binders that it had a nice ring to it.