Page 20 of Cherry on Top

“You don’t even have a home. You’re living out of a suitcase.” She leveled an experienced Moretti stare at him.

“And?”

“And it’s sad. I want more for you, darling, than just an empty hotel room and a duffel bag full of clothes.”

“I have more than that,” Enzo said between clenched teeth. “In any case please stop trying to throw me at Will. It’s embarrassing.”

“Because you like him! Because you think he’s cute! Oh, he is cute, isn’t he? I thought so the moment I saw him. And then Luca told me he was gay, and I knew he was perfect for you.”

“He’s not anything for me,” Enzo repeated as patiently as he could. “And because you interfered, now he’s pissed at me and doesn’t want me to paint the mural. That’s not only disappointing, but it makes me look unprofessional, Mom. And I am a professional.”

“Oh, of course you are a professional, darling! You’re so good at your job. Brilliant, really.” Giana made a face. “I’m sorry. I just thought it would be such a lovely surprise.”

“The mural? Or Will?” Enzo asked dryly.

“Well, both,” she retorted fondly. “Did you not think he was cute?”

Enzo had no intention of telling her how cute Will really was. At least if Giana was attempting matchmaking in earnest now, she had good taste.

“That’s not the point,” Enzo said. “You’ve got to stop doing this stuff. I’m my own man now.”

Her face fell a little, and that guilt he was far too familiar with swamped him yet again. “I know,” she said in a quiet voice. “I suppose I should have talked to him about it.”

“Asked his permission,” Enzo stressed. “And I should have asked more questions. Made it a more formal proposal. Now I’m not going to get to do it, and that’s disappointing.”

Giana looked as disappointed as he felt. Maybe she’d been harboring some secret hope that even if her overt matchmaking didn’t work out, Enzo painting Will’s building might lead to more.

“I’m sorry,” she said softly. “I didn’t know. I didn’t realize.”

Enzo resolutely shoved the guilt to the side. “Yes, you did. But it’s okay.” He reached out and took her hand. “I get it. You just want me to be happy. But I am happy.”

She didn’t look convinced. Enzo didn’t know if it was because she didn’t understand what did truly make him happy or because he wasn’t quite convincing enough.

He was happy. Though maybe he did wonder, just a little, whenever he saw his cousin and his husband together what it would be like to have a partner like that. A love like that.

But then he remembered that falling in love that way would mean nailing him down to a single spot, and he couldn’t deal with that.

Couldn’t live like that again.

“Alright, darling,” she said. “Do you want me to talk to him?”

“No, no. You’ve done enough damage, already.”

“You don’t think I’d make it worse, do you?” she asked with surprise as she set her cup onto its saucer.

“Oh, of course not. You’d just try to convince him to date me again,” Enzo grumbled.

“He should want to date you.”

“Well, it’s not happening. He’s . . .” Gorgeous. And even cuter when he’s annoyed with me, which he is now, thanks to you. “He lives here, Mom. And I don’t.” He tried to say it with as much gentleness as he could, but she still frowned.

“I understand,” she said and stood. “I’ve got to meet Joy. We’re going to Charleston to find some antiques for the expansion of the Inn.”

Enzo didn’t remember his mother being quite so close to Joy Billings. Eighteen-year-old Enzo would’ve been thrilled at this development, but twenty-seven-year-old Enzo was just confused why he’d missed this happening.

“I didn’t know the two of you were so close,” he said casually as she wrapped him up in a quick hug.

“Oh, since I moved back to town, yes. She’s a delightful person, Enzo.”

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