Page 8 of Surprise Baby for the Mafia Boss

The cousins who are staying at the mansion excuse themselves to wind down for the evening as well. Everyone is just a bit tired from so many people and the emotions of the day.

Before long, it’s just the two of us standing in the living room, and the staff members who are busy cleaning up after everyone.

I turn to Luca, and he looks down at me, his blue eyes looking a little watery, and still very tired. I wanted him to come to me, but looking at him now, I realize that’s an unfair request from someone who is grieving as badly as he is.

I’ll try one last time.

“Would you like to take a walk in the garden with me?” I ask.

The garden was Ginny’s pride and joy. She spent many years making it a peaceful escape from the chaos that her family was involved in, and I remember helping her plant flowers and pull weeds as a child.

In her final days, Ginny would spend every morning in this garden, drinking her tea and soaking in the beauty around her.

Luca looks towards the garden and then back at me, seemingly weighing up whether or not he actually wants to. I think the idea of getting out of the mansion appeals to him, though, because he nods and turns to go outside.

As we step outside, I take Luca's hand, and to my surprise, he doesn't pull away. We walk down the little path that has solar lights showing us the way. I know that eventually, we’ll get to the lookout house, which will give us complete privacy.

Ginny had the garden lookout house designed for efficiency and comfort. She wanted a place she could organize bouquets and view her garden safe from the weather. She brought in a yellow velvet couch years ago, it was her spot to relax and read away from family drama whenever she desired.

Once we reach the lookout, I pull Luca softly inside, “I love how you can see the entire garden from here.” I say, as I stand at the window. The space is perfectly cozy.

We’re still holding hands, and Luca has followed me willingly. As we stand looking out at the garden in silence, I feel his grip on my hand tighten, and I squeeze it back.

"I don't know how to thank you," he admits, his voice barely above a whisper. Inside, I’m glad he feels the need to thank me—it’s more than his siblings have done. My father was right when he said eventually my acts of kindness for this family would be appreciated.

"You don't need to. We're family," I respond. I wait for him to dispute the family bit, telling me that I was just a friend, not even his friend but one of his sister’s. He doesn’t say anything.

I rub my thumb against his hand and move a step closer to him. He’s not moving away from me, and I feel his guard slowly coming down, which is what I hoped would happen. This garden sure is a magical place, just like Ginny had hoped it would be.

He breathes in deeply, "She loved this place," he whispers, looking out at the garden. It’s dark, but the moon is giving us just enough light to see the many flower beds, walking paths, and benches that Ginny placed all around the grounds.

She also had an obsession with lighting, so there are fairy lights strung around bird feeders and more solar lights poking out of the grass, giving the garden a magical kind of ambience.

“It almost feels like she’s still here.” And with that, his voice cracks, and silently he lets out the tears that he’s been holding in all day—perhaps all week.

I release his hand and slip my arms around his waist, pulling him as close to me as I can. He’s so much taller than me. He wraps his arms around my shoulders and rests his cheek on my head, crying softly.

I keep my hold on him tight, letting him know that I’m not going anywhere, that his tears won’t scare me away. His grip tightens as well, and I feel his body shake with sobs, but he’s so quiet that if I wasn’t holding onto him, I would barely know he’s crying.

After a few minutes, I feel the sobs subside, and his body feels calmer, less tense. I pull back just slightly, looking up into his eyes. There’s only the moonlight to illuminate his face, but I’ve memorized every inch of it already in my mind.

I can see him staring back into my eyes, his gaze causing a fluttering in my chest, and the air suddenly fills with a different kind of tension.

“Luca…” I say his name but it’s barely a whisper. We don’t break eye contact but his arms move lower down my back and he bends slightly, his face coming closer to mine.

I can feel his warm breath on me and can hear that it’s faster, deeper. His hands on my back clench my dress, and in one smooth movement, he pulls my body right up against his and places his lips over mine, making me gasp with surprise.

As I taste his lips on mine, I think about all of the times I’ve already imagined this moment, and realize none of my fantasies could have come close to this.

The kiss starts slowly, almost hesitantly, and I match his speed so that I don’t scare him off, but before long, he speeds up, kissing me harder and deeper.

I open my eyes for a second, I see that his are closed in enjoyment. His hands move up to hold my cheeks as he pulls my face even closer to his. His own cheeks are still slightly wet, and I can taste the aftermath of his salty tears on his lips.

I allow my eyes to close again, breathing in his smell, taking in the taste of him, trailing my hands up his back and onto his neck. All I have wanted for years was to kiss Luca Baldini, and even if this was a reaction to his emotional turmoil, I revel in the moment.

The kiss is almost sad at first, but after a while, it becomes more desperate, each of us hungry to fill a void — although I suspect his void is different from mine.

I clench his thick dark hair, feeling a wetness between legs caused by the kiss.

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