Rolling to my back, I stared at the ceiling, my mind racing.
Luca didn’t trust Marco, but he was letting him stay close. Was it some “keep your friends close and your enemies closer” Sun-Tzu shit, or did Luca honestly believe his cousin?
After an hour of laying painfully still in bed, Luca came back. He stripped down to his boxers and climbed in behind me, pulling me to his chest.
“I love you.” He whispered into my hair as his hand caressed my thigh, slowing to a stop when he started snoring in my ear. His warm body loosened my tight muscles but did nothing to ease my thoughts.
Yet again, it looked like the threat came from inside the family.
* * *
“This is one way to spend a lunch,” I complained to Ashley as we walked into the bakery. Frankie stopped at the door and lit a cigarette.
“Oh, hush. This will be fun.”
Rosa and Mom sat with Luca and Marco at a round table, their chairs crammed together.
“Sasha!” Mom waved and gestured at me to hurry.
“Hey, Mom.”
Luca stood and greeted me with a kiss. Marco, sporting a fat lip, stood until Ashley and I were seated.
“Are you excited to pick your cake?” Mom was giddy as hell.
“I’m excited to have cake for lunch. So sure, I’m excited.”
Before she could launch into one of her many lectures about diet and wedding dresses and pictures lasting forever, the baker hustled out of the back.
“Right on time!” Paul’s southern twang stood out against the midwestern accents around us.
“Look at you!” I held out his arm, inspecting a new tattoo on the inside of his forearm. “Is that Mrs. Claus?”
He chuckled and pulled me up for a hug. “Yup. I thought it was fitting since I look like Santa. Might as well manifest my own pinup Mrs. Claus.” True enough, with Paul’s bleach-blond hair and beard, he was a dead ringer for a young St. Nick. His sheer size helped in the illusion.
“I’m here for it. But I swear this woman looks familiar.”
Paul’s cheeks crimsoned, and he looked over at Luca, sticking his hand out. “I’m Paul Townsend.”
“Luca Moretti.” Luca’s eyes focused on Paul’s arm, inspecting the tattoo. “You get that at Golden Ink?”
“I did.” Paul grinned. “I get all my work done there. Betty’s a genius.”
Luca nodded, his hand rubbing over his heart where he wore my name. “Gage did mine.”
Paul tilted his head. “You got ink?”
“Just the one.” Luca smiled down at me.
“I’m sorry, what?” Rosa popped up from her seat, walking around me to get to Luca. She reached up like she was about to check his skin for imperfections.
“Mom. Why don’t you sit so we can start the tasting?” Luca caught her hand and escorted her back to her seat.
Paul took the cue and motioned for a young woman to bring over a tray full of tiny plates and tinier bites of cake.
“What we have here are our vanilla and fruity options.” He handed out plates as the woman handed out cups of water and refilled Rosa's and Mom’s teacups. “On the tray is a card where you can mark your favorites, and we can go from there. Just holler if you need anything.”
“Let’s start with the vanilla cake with vanilla icing and go from there,” my mom said as she set her card next to the tiny plate.