That's Amore! - Janelle Denison [75]
"As opposed to being terrified when I look around this maze and wonder if I'm going to stumble over a dead body back here?"
"Well, that was gentlemanly," she said with a half-smile, not sounding offended.
"I'm not the gentleman of the family."
"I know."
"Zing right back."
She flushed. "I mean your brother Joe seems to hold that title. He's so polite and all."
Joe? Luke almost laughed. "Joe considers himself a hammer jockey. I think he'd be crushed if he thought women didn't consider him rugged and dangerous."
"Meg certainly doesn't."
No, Joe's wife of one year, Meg, considered him her other half, which, to anyone who knew them, appeared absolutely true. They were so blissfully in love it made his teeth hurt to be around them. He still really needed to deck his brother for that, considering the trouble Joe's sappy "happily married" talk had caused for Luke lately.
"By the way," Luke said, remembering her words, "I think I've been exceedingly polite this afternoon."
Rachel winced in embarrassment. "I'm sorry, you're right, you've been wonderful."
Their stares met. Held. The air—already stuffy—grew more heated, until finally Rachel cleared her throat and added, "And so is your family. Your sisters-in-law and your sister Lottie have been real angels to deal with."
He let her get away with changing the subject to a very innocuous one. Because they had no business thinking wonderful thoughts about each other. No business at all. "Thanks. They are all pretty great."
She nodded. "And determined. Gloria says she'd get the last of her baby weight off or else she'd wear four body girdles, but there was no way she'd let me order a bigger size bridesmaid gown than her pre-pregnancy one."
Lucas flinched just at the thought of women and their torturous contraptions of beauty. "Tony's wife. She's as bossy as a real big sister."
"I know. With the two adorable little boys. I guess they're keeping up the family tradition."
"Well, God help them if they have five of them like my parents did."
"I've never heard your parents complain. In fact, to hear your mother tell it, her boys are'a'da best men in all-a-Shee-ca-gooo."
She did a lousy job of imitating his mother's thick Italian accent, particularly with the twangy, musical lilt to her voice, but he didn't have the heart to tell her. Especially because she looked so darn cute when doing it. "How about you? Lots of siblings?"
She shook her head. "Only child." Her eyes clouded a little. "My father died last year, and my only family is now Aunt Ginny, who's been a surrogate mother—and friend—for a long time."
He nodded and remained quiet for a moment, in silent understanding. Then, wanting to lighten the moment, he shook his head. "So, no sisters or brothers. Meaning you never had the joy of the big hand-me-down marathon during Labor Day weekend before back-to-school."
Raising a brow, she said, "No, I'm afraid not."
"Fortunately," he explained, "I was always the same height as Joe, even though he's a year older. So jeans that were too short for him got passed down to Mark or Nick."
The words were an opening he hadn't intended, and she reacted to them. Her gaze traveled over him, from head to toe, as if assessing his height, his build. Her lips parted as she drew in a deep, slow breath, and he nearly groaned when she slipped her tongue out to moisten them. The atmosphere thickened yet again. No matter how many times either of them tried to retreat behind a wall of friendly, casual conversation, they kept coming back to this. This unexpected attraction. That was the only word for it—it wasn't just awareness. It was attraction. On both their parts.
Which left him with only one choice. No more retreating behind words or laughter or desks. It was time to get out of here for real.
And after making his excuses and brushing off her thanks, that's exactly what he did.
"I'M ALMOST THERE. I'm so close," Gloria Santori said, her face mottled