Page 125 of Not Mine to Keep

We both abruptly startled and stopped kissing at an excited “Yes!” coming from the hall.

“Mommmm,” I teasingly hollered out, but then my wife began laughing, and yeah, her laugh could really stop wars and save the world.

She for sure saved mine.

CHAPTER FORTY-SIX

Calliope

A Few Weeks Later

“Your mom really knows how to throw a party.” I closed my notebook and looked around the crowded yard at the Costas’ house in Long Island, where we’d spent a lot of time recently.

“And she’s managed to get us all back under her roof again when we only just escaped last week.” Alessandro took a knee, unfurled the throw blanket to make room for himself, and dropped down beside me.

Holding the neck of his beer, he rested it on his thigh, eyes on the yacht docked not far away. Izzy, Hudson, and a few others were prepping it to take it out.

“You think they’ll wind up together?” I wasn’t sure why I’d asked that, or whether he’d know who I was referring to, but when I peeked at him, he had a goofy grin on his face. That smile was good news for Hudson. No plans to kill him for wanting his little sister.

“Bianca would love them together.” His tone wasn’t sad. More hopeful. And there was nothing I loved more than when he showed his teddy bear side.

Of course, I didn’t exactly hate the other side, especially in the bedroom. Or, well, whatever room at the penthouse we wound up making love in.

“Would Constantine love it?”

He tossed a look over his shoulder at the man in question. “I don’t know, to be honest.” Twisting back around, he stretched one leg out and sighed. “Maybe he’d be okay.”

“After you two did the brother routine on him?” I laughed. “Izzy told me about her exes and how you guys all—”

“Took out the trash.” He playfully nudged me in the side, turning his attention to the grill station, where Enzo had all but kicked to the curb the chef hired for the party. Maria was at his side, one hand over her pregnant belly and the other stroking her husband’s back. “I’m glad Maria was cleared to travel. And that Enzo actually let her.”

“She’s pretty incredible. So is her daughter.” Maybe one day we’d have kids. I’d had my period last week, so no luck yet, but I didn’t think it’d take too long at the rate we were going lately. The man couldn’t keep his hands off me, and I loved it.

“Three daughters.” He took a healthy gulp of his beer, shaking his head while laughing at his father chasing after Chiara not far away, acting as though she were ten times faster than him. “God help my brother when they all start dating.”

“More like help their dates.” Speaking of dating, my aunt was now seeing Javier on the regular. So much so she’d yet to go back to Tennessee since she’d come home from being rescued. She deserved to finally meet a great guy and be happy. To stop worrying about me, and thank God, there was no longer any need to do so.

“I’ve been meaning to ask you something.” At Alessandro’s slightly somber tone, I focused back on him, and he locked eyes with me. “I haven’t brought this up because I was waiting to make sure the whole Armani-being-in-prison thing stuck. And no fallout from all the other stuff ...”

Wait, were we doing this now? Out here? Finally having the conversation I’d been waiting for him to broach since coming back from Romania. And here I was in jean shorts and only a red bikini top for it.

He finished whatever was left of his beer, then set aside the bottle.

I drummed my fingers on the notepad on my lap as I waited for him to get the words out. And as for words, I’d finally been able to write again.

I’d opted to go separate ways with Braden after his awkward declaration of love last month, though. I didn’t need a guy in my life who had a crush on me.

I did, however, manage to convince Nala to perform with me if I were to land any future gigs. We wouldn’t be teaching at the high school together anymore since I’d resigned and would be focusing on my music—Alessandro was encouraging me to follow my dreams—but at least Nala and I might get to work together down the road in another way.

“Okay, Mr. Mysterious, you’re making me nervous.” What if he wasn’t planning to discuss the thing I’d been waiting for him to talk about for weeks now?

He fingered the collar of his cream-colored linen shirt before smoothing his palm over his trimmed beard. A touch of silver was sprinkled in here and there with the brown. I blamed all the stress he’d endured.

“Alessandro,” I prompted when he’d yet to speak.

“I was waiting for you to finish your internal monologue.” He shot me a devilish smirk that had me in a puddle. “I know that look of yours.” He pointed to my notebook. “You finish the song you’ve been working on? Ready to show me yet?”

“Maybeee. But first, what do you want to talk about?” I poked him in the ribs.

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