Without a care in the world, he shrugs. “Hey, you said you were hungry.”
“Yes, me, not me and 12 of my closest friends. Did you know there would be this much food?”
He outright grins. “Yep.”
My stomach flutters at the first real smile I’ve seen from him. He has a really nice smile.
“I hope you save room for dessert,” the waitress jokes.
“Oh, we’ll be having dessert,” Sin assures her.
I lift my eyebrows, surveying the bounty on the table. “I would normally agree with that, but I’m thinking that’s an impossibility today.”
“Eh, you could use a little meat on your bones,” the matronly waitress assures me.
His eyes dancing with pleasure, Sin adds, “And you’re eating for two now. The baby needs dessert.”
The waitress gasps and flushes with pleasure. “Aw, congratulations! That must be why you’re glowing.”
I glare at Sin across the table and he smirks, not even sparing me a glance as he scoops pasta onto his plate.
Once the waitress is gone, I reach for some fried mozzarella. “You’re an asshole.”
“Just stating the facts,” he replies.
We barely put a dent in the obscene amount of food we ordered. I blame myself for not reading the menu more carefully, because upon further investigation, I see this restaurant serves food family-style and the food is meant for sharing. It’s been ages since I’ve had family-style food. Nana and Granddad used to serve dinner family-style, but Carly and I usually just sit on the couch and eat while we watch television.
Vince’s family back in Chicago eats at a table, but they have maids who bring out plated meals like a restaurant. For Easter, Mateo’s wife helped serve dessert, but I got the impression it was more about tradition than anything. They live in a house the size of a museum, so she probably doesn’t have to lift a finger if she doesn’t want to.
Glancing across the table at Sin, I watch him tear open a piece of bread and spread some butter on it. I wonder if they have dinners like that here. It’s the same family, so maybe they share the same traditions.
“How long have you worked for the Morellis?” I ask Sin.
His gaze hastily sweeps the area around us, then he shoots me a warning look. “Six years. We don’t need to talk about that in public.”
“How old were you six years ago?”
Amusement flickers in his gaze again. “I was 21.”
I nod, satisfied I got two pieces of information out of him. “So you’re 27.”
“You’re intimidating me with that big brain of yours,” he replies.
This isn’t the first time he’s poked fun at me for the supposed breadth of my knowledge. “I never said anything about being smart, so why do you keep picking on me?”
“Rafe did. A couple times.”
“Well, I must not be too smart or I wouldn’t be in this situation to begin with,” I inform him.
Sin shrugs. “You said you used a condom. Sounds like you did what you were supposed to do. If anyone fucked up, it had to be him.”
“Maybe he’s the one who screwed up that night, but I’m obviously the one who fucked up by coming here.”
“Did you know who he was when you fucked him?” Sin asks, reaching for his water glass and watching me over the rim as he takes a sip.
I break a piece of fried zucc
hini in half, replaying the first moment I saw him in my head again. “Not exactly, but I knew he was family of Mateo’s. I knew enough to know better,” I offer. “My sister tried valiantly to stop me, but… well, my libido won that round.”