Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 75683 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75683 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
“We aren’t getting together. And who knows if she even wants babies.”
“She does.”
“You asked?” I hissed. Maybe I shouldn’t have been surprised by her comfort level when it came to being invasive as hell. But she never ceased to amaze me.
“Of course I did. Oh, unclench your jaw,” she said, rolling her eyes. “It’s not like I walked up and said Hi, I’m Nino’s mother, and I’d like to know how many babies you will have with my son. It came up in conversation.”
“Yeah, sure it did,” I said, rolling my eyes at Dante who quickly made sure his smirk fell away because he knew he was next in line for our mother’s matchmaking skills once I was shacked up.
“It did. I was talking to one of your cousins about how many children she wanted to have. It just came up.”
Yeah yeah yeah.
I didn’t believe a word coming out of this woman’s mouth when it came to Savannah right about then.
“She wants lots of children, by the way.”
“Good for her,” I said, pretending that I wasn’t picturing a bunch of green-eyed kids running around with my dark hair and her bright smile.
“You want a bunch of children too,” she reminded me.
“I think I am going to be celibate from this point on,” I declared, and damn if the look of outrage on my mother’s face would have almost made it worth it to try to deny sex. Almost.
“You’re giving me my grandbabies.”
“Massimo and Cammie are working on that.”
“I want them from all of you,” she said, pointing a sauce-covered spoon at each of us, driving her point home.
“Sure, Ma. Eventually,” I conceded. “But not with Savannah. So let it drop. Please,” I added, knowing I was crushing her a bit, and wanting to ease the blow.
With that, she did, talking instead about some shit going on with some of the not yet Made male members of our family. Stirring shit. Giving their moms heart attacks.
By the end of the meal, she’d somehow managed to get all of us to agree to talk to those young cousins of ours, to help put them on the ‘right track.’ Which was kind of funny, given that our jobs were completely fucking illegal, but we understood what the worry was. That they’d get themselves into the kind of trouble that not even the Family could get them out of.
“I need her address, Nino,” my mother said as she put the now-cool tray of stuffed shells into her fridge.
Letting out a sigh, knowing that there would likely be follow-up conversation about her gardens once she saw them, I jotted down the address, kissed my mom’s cheek, thanked her for dinner, then made my way to my car to head across town to talk to Luca once again.
“Feel like all I am bringing you lately is problems,” I said as I sat down with him in his office at Famiglia.
“That’s the nature of my job,” Luca said, shrugging it off. “Solving problems.”
He wore the burden of leader with the sort of ease that could only be accomplished when you were raised to know you would one day lead. There was no annoyance when you came to him with issues, no matter the time of day. No expectation that things were always going to go smoothly. Hell, he didn’t even get pissed when the young guys came in, headstrong and stupid, and got themselves into immediate trouble.
“It’s August,” I told him.
“Of course it is,” he said, sharing a smile with me. “These days, if it’s not Milo, it’s August, right?” he asked, referencing Lucky’s youngest brother. “What’d he do?”
“That’s a good question. We can’t get in touch with him for details,” I admitted.
“Okay. Well, what do you know?”
“Remember the shit with Massimo and Cammie?”
“Of course.”
“Do you remember Traveler?”
“She owned the coffee shop, right? Helped you guys out. Dad was the chief of police, I think. Corrupt, though.”
“Yeah. And that’s about all I know about that whole situation too. But he is on his way there tonight because of something involving Traveler. And that is all I know.”
“Did they have something going on?” he asked, brows pinching.
“Not that I know of. They were oil and water from what I could tell. But…”
“Yeah, but,” he agreed with a small chuckle. “Okay,” he said with a sigh. “I’m of two minds on this,” he admitted.
“And what are they each thinking?”
“One of them, the one that is probably more like a cousin or annoyed older brother figure, is thinking that we should leave him alone to fall on his face, and learn to handle his own shit. Or to figure out when he needs to ask for help.”
“Yeah, I get that,” I agreed. Sometimes, learning to be a man and a member of the Family meant you had to crash, burn, get burnt, then swallow your pride enough to ask someone to help you repair.