Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 74214 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 371(@200wpm)___ 297(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74214 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 371(@200wpm)___ 297(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
“Why not?”
“I babysat every kid on our block growing up. I love kids. I’m just nowhere near in a place to start a family.”
“Oh, so you are with someone,” Giulia asked, looking deflated.
“No. No, I’m single. But I would need to be a lot more stable before starting a family.”
“That’s where a husband comes in handy.”
“Ma, you—”
“Hey, Aunt G,” another voice joined our conversation, making me turn to find another tall, dark, handsome man with impossibly great bone structure.
“Lucky! I didn’t know you were here.”
“Promised the kids pizza. Well, I promised Via a night without cooking. So I’m going with pizza.”
“That’s very—oh, excuse me for a moment,” Giulia said as her phone started to ring.
When she got up to walk away from the table, Dante let out a deep breath.
“Yeah, I remember that feeling,” Lucky said with a chuckle. “Figured I would give you a couple minutes of reprieve.”
“Lucky, this is Hazel. She—”
“Works at the garden center,” Lucky cut him off. “Dom mentioned you having to break up a couple fucking in the woods.”
“What?” Dante asked, stiffening.
“Opening night. It was no big deal. And, don’t worry, we already have new safeguards up against that.”
“That’s not—”
“I’m so sorry,” Giulia said, coming back and grabbing her handbag. “I’m afraid I forgot my hair appointment,” she said, reaching up to pat her perfectly dyed and styled hair. “I have to run. Hazel, it was so nice to meet you, dear. Dante, you have to invite her to Sunday dinner.”
With that, the woman shuffled off before anyone could object.
“Your mom is a terrible liar,” I said when she was out of earshot, my smile breaking out.
“That she is,” Dante agreed. “I’m sorry about her. She’s…”
“A mom,” I filled in for him. “My mom and my grandmother have been the same way with me. They just want to see us happy.”
“In my mom’s case, I think she just wants more grand babies. Even though she’s already got a bunch.”
“Lucky, order’s up,” someone called from the door.
“That’s me. Nice to meet you, Hazel.”
“Thanks for the save, man,” Dante said.
Then his cousin was gone, and we were alone.
“The server is on her way out. Feel free to get back to your night if you want. Or you can stay.”
“I—”
“Hey! Sorry, I didn’t see you join the party. Can I get you something to drink?”
I really needed to get away from Dante and his intoxicating spicy scent and his charming smile.
“Water would be great.”
“And another glass for the wine,” Dante said, gesturing toward the bottle on the table.
“Absolutely. Be right back.”
“I don’t know if you drink, but this wine is great.”
“Wine sounds great. I haven’t had any since… before the move.”
“Any particular reason?”
“I don’t know anyone here. And I was raised to never drink alone. Of course that was odd advice since my mom and grandmother always lived together, so someone was always around to share a drink with. What?” I asked when his head tipped to the side and his brows pinched.
“I can’t fathom moving somewhere that I don’t know anyone.”
“It seems like you have a big family. I mean, this isn’t really a small town, and you guys keep popping up.”
“My mom and most of the aunts had like four or more kids each. And now they’re mostly all married and having kids. I swear we are half of Navesink Bank’s population.”
“Is it amazing or overwhelming?”
“It’s both. For example, you never have to worry about not having someone to help you move or pick you up if your car won’t start. On the flip side, your mom and aunts and cousins all want you to settle down enough to constantly try to hook you up.”
“Have you ever actually gone on a date with someone they tried to hook you up with?” His pained look was all the answer I needed. “Six times over the summer. It’s easier to give in than to fight it.”
“No winners?”
“Well, there was the woman whose entire apartment was full of those silly squishy stuffed animals. Couches, bookshelves, bed, seats in the dining room…”
“I mean, you’d always have something comfy to lay on,” I said, smiling my thanks to the server as she dropped off my water and wine glass.
“Oh, no, no. You couldn’t lay on them. They all had feelings. And names. And personalities. Apparently, the pink spotted cow and the purple pigeon had some sort of beef, but she didn’t feel comfortable telling me until she got to know me better so she knew she could trust me not to share it.”
“Oh, come on. You made that up.”
“I wish I did,” he said, pouring my wine.
“Was that your mom’s setup?”
“No. It was one of my aunts’ setups. My mom set me up last with her manicurist’s niece. A lovely woman on a carnivore diet who spent the entire dinner telling me how the pasta with my chicken parm was going to make me die at fifty.”