Page 6 of Leaving Lando

Adamo Men

Lando pullsout his work phone, which I know by sight. “Adamo,” he says. As he listens, his eyes sharpen. “Yeah, that does sound like my guy. Thanks, Miller.”

He disconnects and says, “Another detective got a tip on a case I’m working. Gotta go check it out. Can one of you give Brianna a lift?”

“Sure,” Carlo says. “You still at Carlotta’s?”

“Yeah, still there.” When our farmhouse burned, Jade went to stay with Romero, and other Adamo family members gave Quinn and me shelter. Carlotta is one of the nonnas, the Adamo matriarchs.

There are lots of Adamo grannies because there are lots of Adamos. They’re a huge Italian clan who dominate this town, and the whole damn state for that matter. And they refuse to let us pay them back for everything they’ve done.

Carlotta lays a guilt trip on me whenever I mention moving out on my own. I don’t want to be a burden, that’s all; I’m used to taking care of myself. But I think she likes having me there.

“See you,” Lando says to me, and I make an effort to hide my frustration. I certainly don’t fault his dedication to his job. But is it really so urgent that he couldn’t drop me off on the way?

More likely, it’s a ploy to avoid talking about sex, just like joining his cousins in the first place. I should have waited till we were at his house and jumped him. It would have been a lot harder — pun intended — for him to say no then.

But the last thing I’m going to do is act like a bitchy girlfriend when I have no right to do so — especially in front of his family. On the other hand, I can’t let him leave without giving him stick, or he’ll know something’s bothering me.

“This is a drug bust, isn’t it?” I say, arching my eyebrows dramatically.

The corner of his mouth twitches. “No. Just a potential lead. Later, Red.”

Rico lets him out of the booth. I watch Lando leave, because I can’t help ogling him whenever I have the chance. When I turn back to the group, ten pairs of eyes are fixed on me.

“We’re just friends,” I say in answer to the unspoken question, and get eight knowing smiles from all the adults. “Really.”

Cait smirks. She’s a curvy brunette with big dark eyes, and her husband Antonio is equally dark, if much larger. Looking around the table, there’s no doubt that Adamo genes, at least as far as the men are concerned, only run to two sizes: large, and jumbo.

That doesn’t account for what they’re packing in their boxer briefs, of course, but I have a strong suspicion that the same thing holds true there.

“You don’t believe me?” I ask her, but not in a combative way. I want to know what she’s thinking.

“Oh, I believe you. But if I were a betting woman, I’d lay odds neither one of you wants it that way.”

“From seeing us together for less than five minutes?”

“That’s all it takes,” Gina says. She’s sitting next to me, and she leans in and says in a stage whisper, “I jumped Carlo within five minutes of meeting him.”

Everyone else grins again. I feel my eyes get big. “You did not.”

“Right here in this very restaurant.”

“We were there,” Erin says. “As soon as they were introduced Gina basically ran away, but Carlo followed her and escorted her into the office for a little chat. That was all within the first ninety seconds or so.”

I send Carlo an appraising glance. “You work fast.”

He gives his wife a look so tender, but so heated, that a vicious pang of longing hits me. Will any man ever look at me that way? “Something about her,” he says, his voice a soft, deep rumble. “She got under my skin that fast.”

Gina laces her fingers with his. Suddenly, I can’t wait to be away from here, from all these happy, loving couples. Being near them is getting under my skin, making me dissatisfied in a way I’ve never been before.

“Thanks for the ride offer,” I tell Carlo, “but I think I’ll walk. It was nice to meet you all.”

I turn to Rico. He doesn’t budge. “Cold out there,” he says mildly.

“I’m wearing a jacket,” I point out in my politest voice, with a smile for good measure.

“You got a cap? Scarf? Gloves?”

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