Page 135 of Love or Tequila in Unexpected Places

It’s a little your fault,Allison thought as she tried to catch her breath.

“She’s fucking choking because of you!” Johnathan accused, leaning into the dramatics.

That sounds… inappropriate.

“You’re the one who said—”

Oh my God, please just shut up.

“SHUT. UP. Both of you!” Katerina finally snapped, echoing the exact sentiment running through Allison’s oxygen-deprived brain.

The bickering stopped dead. Allison, still wheezing but mostly recovered, sent Katerina a grateful glance as the younger woman continued to pat her back, muttering in Greek like some sort of aggressive healer.

Once the chaos died down, Katerina turned her steely gaze toward Angelo, hands on her hips. “Talk like an actual human being rather than dropping bombs in the middle of dinner, Angelo.”

Truer words have never been spoken.

Angelo sighed dramatically, as if he hadn’t just caused a minor emergency, and everyone sat back down, albeit more cautiously. “I meant what I said. I plan on threatening your father. Bullying him, if you will.”

Johnathan blinked, looking like he’d just been slapped. “And what good will that do?” he demanded, voicing exactly what Allison was thinking. It was absurd. Completely absurd.

But Angelo’s confidence was unshaken, his tone level as he explained. “It’ll scare him. Make him realize he’s not as untouchable as he thinks. He can’t just push Allison out of his life as if she’s expendable.”

His words hung in the air as he locked eyes with Allison, something deeper and unspoken passing between them. There was more to his plan—much more—but whatever it was, he clearly couldn’t reveal it in front of Johnathan and Katerina.

Allison’s heart pounded. This could either be the most brilliant or most idiotic thing Angelo had ever done, and she wasn’t entirely sure which. Her throat still burned, and she didn’t trust herself to speak, but she had her doubts.

This is not going to end well.

Johnathan, of course, wasn’t satisfied. “It could go extremely wrong, Taylor. I don’t like it.”

Angelo, however, remained as unflustered as ever. “Oh, calm down. I’m not threatening his life.” A smirk crept across his face, the kind that usually preceded something outrageous. “Just his business.”

Allison gasped. He wouldn’t.

“Youfuckingwouldn’t,” Johnathan said, his voice full of the same shock she was feeling.

“Oh, I fucking would,” Angelo replied, with such certainty it made her stomach flip.

This issonot gonna end well.

For the next two weeks, Angelo practically vanished. He left little notes for Allison every morning, wishing her a lovely day or telling her how much he missed her. It was charming at first, but by day ten, she was considering setting the house on fire just toget his attention. Every day, she texted him back, thanking him for the note, and then went downstairs to find Katerina making breakfast—usually something Greek and delicious.

The woman could cook like it was her side hustle.

Allison’s days had fallen into a predictable but pleasant routine. She spent her time reading, going on coffee dates with Katerina, or binge-watching old 90’s rom-coms—because apparently, that was Katia’s favorite pastime. Allison had no complaints, though. WatchingSleepless in Seattlewith someone who yelled at the TV made it even better. And somewhere between all the TomHanks and Meg Ryan, Allison realized that this house—Angelo’s house—had somehow becometheirhome.

Her clothes had taken over half of Angelo’s closet (a fact he teased her about mercilessly in his late-night texts), her pink decor brightened up his otherwise black-and-white apartment, and her chunky knit blankets had claimed residence on the couch. The space was no longer just his; it had quietly become theirs, and Allison wasn’t sure when that shift had happened. Maybe somewhere between the fourth pasta dinner and the fifth note.

Today, however, was a special day. Allison had hit her twenty-sixth week of pregnancy and her belly was now a feature film. It was time for a wardrobe refresh, and there was only one person for the job—Amira Davis, her best friend and the best damn designer in the world.

“Soniye! I missed you!” Amira squealed as she wrapped Allison in a bear hug. Amira was a good five inches shorter, so she sort of hugged the side of the baby bump rather than Allison herself, but it was heartwarming nonetheless.

“I missed you too,” Allison said, sighing with relief. She hadn’t realized just how much until they were hugging.

Amira stepped back, her eyes gleaming with excitement. “Wait until you see what I’ve made for you. You’re gonna die,” she said,dramatically flinging a bunch of odd-looking garment bags onto the living room couch.

It was only then that Amira seemed to notice Katerina sitting there, casually sipping a cup of coffee. Amira froze mid-fling, eyes wide.

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