Page 28 of Finding Love

EMILIA

“This would look great on you too.” Guilia tosses a dress over her shoulder, not bothering to see where it lands. “What shoe size are you?”

“Eight-and-a-half. Really, you don’t need to do all of this,” I tell her, but my words fall on deaf ears. Her generosity is overwhelming.

She declared it was time to purge some of her closet and decided everything was going to go to me. I don’t have the heart to tell her our tastes are wildly different. I’m only a handful of years older than her, but I feel downright ancient when I hold up a tiny scrap of a dress and can’t imagine myself wearing it.

Not outside the bedroom, anyway. I’m sure it would drive Luca crazy, though he might feel differently if I were to remind him where I got the dress from. Nobody wants to hear they’ve been salivating over an outfit their little sister used to wear.

She only scoffs. “Are you kidding? This is fun for me. I always wanted a sister.” I look up from the dress to find her slowly turning toward me, cringing. “Sorry. I’m not trying to be all weird or anything.”

“You aren’t being weird. It’s sweet. And for what it’s worth, I’ve always wanted a sister, too,” I confess.

Her brilliant smile makes me smile in return. She’s such a sweet kid who only wants everybody to be happy. Knowing she’s here, a short walk from Luca’s, has helped me feel normal. Having a girl to talk to, somebody with no ulterior motives and no reason to be kind other than for the sake of kindness.

Glancing at my phone makes my stomach sink, “Is that the time? Shit.” I have to take the pile of clothes from my lap and place them on the bed, groaning at myself. “Craig will be here any minute.”

Her nose wrinkles. “I don’t like that guy.”

Interesting. I’d love to hear all I can about him before he gets here so I know what I’m dealing with. “I didn’t know you knew him.”

“I don’t,” she says with a shrug. “I’ve never really talked to him, but I’ve seen him around. He gives me a gross feeling.”

“From what I’ve heard, he’s not somebody I’d want to be friends with,” I agree. “Luca told me a little bit about him.” And his slimy double-dealing, but I’ll leave that part out. Guilia wouldn’t get it. She’s never been a cop.

“Why are you even going to see him?” she asks as she flicks another dress my way.

Because I want to be sure everything Luca told me is the truth. Knowing it might offend her, I can’t bring myself to say that out loud. As far as she knows, everything’s going well. I feel stronger, and I haven’t had a headache in days. No blurry vision, either.

But there’s always that question in the back of my mind. Was this real? Or is Luca only telling me what he wants me to believe? While I don’t exactly have faith in Craig’s honesty, there’s no reason for him to lie about this. I have to believe he wouldn’t steer me in the wrong direction.

“We have history. We were partners. Who knows, maybe he can help fill in the gaps.” I manage.

Maybe I’m completely naïve. I’m not even sure anymore if my own rationalizations hold water. If I’m telling myself what I need to believe because every day I spend here, getting to know Guilia and sharing a bed with Luca, I’m a day closer to settling in and accepting this as my life. There’s still that tiny part of me that won’t let go of the way I always believed things ought to be.

After promising to come back later for the clothes, I hurry from Guilia’s bedroom and jog down the stairs, meeting Luca at the bottom.

His smile is bright and genuine, and I can’t help smiling back. “I was just going to come up and get you,” he explains. “Figured you girls might’ve lost track of time.”

The brushing of his fingers against mine makes my stomach flutter. “It’s like there’s an entire store up there,” I whisper, and he laughs indulgently.

I shouldn’t let myself bask in the warmth of his laughter or the joy of his touch. This has to be wrong, the way the past several nights must have been wrong. Nights spent practically tearing each other to pieces before we practically fall unconscious from exhaustion. But Luca has this way of making me feel like I’m his. I’m special, wanted, but more importantly, loved by him. No matter how right it feels, I can’t allow myself to indulge.

Maybe my body can…

… not my heart.

“Don’t ever let her tell you she isn’t spoiled.” There’s a lot of affection and fondness in Luca’s voice and his gaze as he looks up the stairs. “A call came in from the front gate. He just got here.”

So much for feeling breathless and giddy, my stomach now sinking like a rock. I have no reason to be nervous. I don’t know the man, but I’ve been looking forward to seeing him ever since Rocco decided it would be safe. All the excitement over the shootout two weeks ago has faded in the wake of fresh, compelling news stories.

I observe a dark blue sedan pulling up in the front courtyard through the window next to the front door. “That’s him?” I ask, shrugging into my coat.

“The one and only,” Luca confirms. I don’t have to guess at his feelings for the man, not when he sounds like he would rather get a root canal than see him.

When a tall, sandy-haired man in a long coat steps out of the car and looks up at the house, a surprised laugh bursts out of me. “I know him. I remember him.”

Luca takes my face in his hands, and it doesn’t occur to me not to lean into his caress. “Little by little, you’re coming back to me.”

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