Lory moved to take a seat beside her, offering comfort in an embrace.
He leaned back, processing the drama exposé. All this time she’d carried this secret. His father didn’t seem to care. In a way, Anton understood. Papà had raised Grey as his own. It took more than one sperm to make a man a father. What if a test showed that he wasn’t? That would be devastating. Was he better off believing Grey was his biological son without concrete evidence?
Would I want to know?
Yeah. Yeah, I would.
“Why don’t you find out?”
Mama’s head popped up and she wiped her face. “I intend to.” Her shoulders rose as she sucked in some air. She met Anton’s assessing stare with a smile. “But first, I’m going to organize a baby shower and an engagement party.” Giving Lory one last hug before rounding the table to give Anton the same, she added, “I love you. Congratulations.”
“Love you too, Mama.”
Antonio
July
Lory cradled, Jack Lucca Clay Agrioli as he suckled at her breast. The sun streamed in through the venetians, playing patterns across her bare skin. Anton lounged in the recliner beside the hospital bed, fascinated by the sight of his new family. Lorelei was a natural. He could not have wished for more.
“He’s asleep. Can you put him in the crib for me?”
She covered her chest and passed Anton the precious bundle. He was careful not to jostle Jack as he placed him down with the precision of a bomb expert.
There was a soft knock at the door.
Goddamn it. Every time. “Whoever that is, they better not wake him up,” He mumbled under his breath as he opened the barrier to find his brother peering through a bunch of flowers.
Anton placed his finger over his mouth in warning before he went in for a hug.
They both padded into the room, Grey handing the bouquet to Anton to sort out. He grabbed a vase to put the flowers in, placing it on the nightstand.
Lory’s face lifted into a tired smile. “Hi stranger.”
Grey kissed her on the cheek before peering into the cradle. “Looks like an Agrioli. All that black hair. You did good. How are you doing, topolina?”
“I’m okay. Exhausted. Happy. Sore.”
Grey shoved his hands in his back pockets. “I bet. I won’t stay long. I went to visit the farmhouse. The proud grandparents told me the news.”
“What are you doing in Mississippi?” Anton took a seat on the bed. Resisting a smirk, he remembered their trip to Boston only a couple of months ago. Lory and he had met Grey’s girlfriend. Scared her off, more like it. Grey had his work cut out for him there.
Big brother had finally met his match.
Grey rocked on his heels, like he wanted out of there already. “I quit my apprenticeship.”
“What?” Lory’s eyes bugged.
“Yeah. Boston wasn’t for me.”
Huh. Chelsea must have left. Only a woman would be able to convince his pigheaded brother to alter his plans. Anton leaned his elbows on the bed. “So, you’re moving back permanently?”
“No. I’m heading east to Bama.”
“Chelsea?” Anton and Lory asked in sync.
Grey dipped his chin. “Chelsea.”
Anton grinned. I knew it. “How did Uncle Matteo take the news?”
Screwing up his nose, Grey shook his head. “He’ll get over it. I hope he comes to visit soon. Him and Papà need to kiss and make up.”
“It’s hard for Matteo.” Poor bastard. “Mama chose to be with Papà before Matteo decided to go. He left here broken-hearted.”
“Yeah, well the restaurant is his mistress now. His pride was hurt more than his heart.” Crossing his arms, Grey shrugged.
“Maybe so. At least Mama knows who her baby daddy is now.”
“Twenty-five years later.” Grey rolled his eyes. “She chose the right brother.”
Anton turned to Lory, giving her a wink.
Yes, she did.
True love always finds its way.
Home, sweet home.
Writing a book in 2020 has been a phenomenal challenge. Particularly a romance. It would have been so much easier to write a horror. And still, I must thank all the fans of this series for bringing me back to contemporary romance. After a couple of years writing paranormal/ supernatural storylines, it was a welcome change and a much-needed distraction.
I sincerely hope that you and your loved ones are navigating your way through this new paradigm with minimal disruption. But the reality is, this year has been FUBAR (any fans of Saving Private Ryan out there?) Thank God for books. Thank goodness for movies, art, poetry, and music. Thank the heavens for the great outdoors and for people with big hearts who reach out to lend a hand where it’s needed. Please ask someone for help if you’re struggling. You are never alone. Ever.
So much love to all my readers who continue to support me. To those who go the extra mile (you know who you are) and share, like, subscribe, comment and interact in any form, I send an enormous thanks for all the love.
My betas—Lisa and Kat—huge thanks for your valued input.
To Bec, who reads every, last word, a special dose of gratitude goes out to you.
All my lovely Gems in my reader group, you have no idea how much you inspire me to keep going.
And finally, to every wonderful person who volunteered to read the advanced copy and/or drop a review—love, love, love to you.
Brittany from Off the Book Pages, you are amazing, woman! Thank you for being such a huge support of indie authors around the globe!
The beautiful souls at Creating Ink suffered through reading a truly awful rough draft and managed to steer me in the right direction. I can’t thank you enough for your patience and guidance.
Fiona, you managed to
