“I can get handsy if you want. They’ll kick us out. It could be front-page news. I know most of the paparazzi by name now. Maybe a photograph as well.”
“Think of the publicity it would generate. Do you have a race coming up? Something you need to market?” Nicoletta turned in the booth and put her feet back on the floor, reaching for her Italian soda. “I really am going to tell Francesca.”
“If you do, it will get back to Stefano and the others,” he warned. “We’ll never hear the end of it.”
“I know”—she sent him a wicked grin—“you mean you’ll never hear the end of it. The boys are very careful of me. They treat me with kid gloves.”
She was right. His brothers were very careful of her. They were all too aware of the terrible things that had happened to her. That had been one of the reasons, as he had gotten older, that he didn’t want his family to know what had happened to him. The knowledge would change how he would be treated. It would be subtle, but they would be much more careful of him. There would be less teasing. Most likely, Stefano would yell at him less. The bottom line was, he didn’t want his family to treat him any differently.
He understood what Nicoletta meant when she had told him long ago that it was humiliating that his family had read the reports. She hadn’t known just how detailed those reports had been or she would have been even more humiliated. He would have had a very difficult time facing his brothers at the age of ten, given his parents’ reaction. He didn’t think they’d ever tease him, but he didn’t know what children would do at that age. Now, he didn’t want to find out even as a grown man.
He lifted the tall glass to his lips. There was condensation on the outside. Fresh strawberries and ice filled the glass, along with the light-colored liquid. It looked refreshing and tasted as good. Her glass was similar but filled with fresh peaches and ice. The color was more toward clear, just a slight peachy color, but when she tasted it, she smiled.
“Perfect. I have to learn to make these.”
“The drinks and the pie are always the best here,” he said.
“And the bread.” She took a breadstick. She never used the marinara dip, but he did. She preferred the salty oil. She dipped the breadstick in the oil and took a bite. “This is so delicious. I was careful not to come in very often. I would end up weighing a ton.”
He looked her over. “You’d look beautiful even weighing a ton.”
She laughed. “You’d probably really think that. I don’t want to get diabetes. No shots for me, thank you. I’ll just keep Petrov’s as a special treat.” She looked up as Tito Petrov sauntered over with their very large pizza and placed it on the table.
“Made it myself, just the way you like it, Taviano. Nicoletta, you look beautiful tonight.” He took her hand as if he might bend over it to kiss it, saw immediately she was wearing a wedding ring and straightened, looking shocked. His gaze jumped from Taviano to Nicoletta and back. “You two married?” He looked at Taviano’s left hand. “Holy shit. You’re married. To each other. You’re fuckin’ married. How come no one knows?”
“We’re planning a big wedding soon, but I couldn’t wait to get the ring on her finger. You know how she’s always got one foot on the road leading out of here.”
Nicoletta pretended to ignore them so she could get a jump on eating the pizza. She wasn’t fooling him. He knew she loved pizza, and she was already calmly eating a slice and declaring it hot and good. Not to be outdone, Taviano took a slice and bit into it. She wasn’t kidding when she said it was very hot. He nearly burned his mouth. She sent him a smug smile.
“Congratulations, you two. Should I keep it quiet? I mean, I’ll tell my dad, but he won’t say anything.” Tito looked around the pizza parlor as if he wanted to make an announcement right then.
“We’d prefer that you didn’t say anything yet,” Taviano said. “We’d like to have a week to ourselves before the madness starts. You know what it’s like. You’ve seen the circus enough times when one of us marries. Nicoletta wants things low key, and so do I.”
Tito nodded. “I understand. I’ll protect your privacy. Your family has always supported us, even through our darkest times. No matter what, you’ve come through.”
“Don’t be so nice to him, Tito. He was nearly kicked out for too much PDA.”
Tito’s eyebrows shot up. “What are you talking about?”
“Your dad’s policy on public displays of affection. Taviano broke that rule so fast. He should have been thrown out but was shown mercy, which he didn’t deserve.” Nicoletta snagged another piece and smiled. “If you tossed him now, I could eat this entire pizza and have ice cream all to myself.”