Page 110 of Married With Malice

“I like it here. I can see why Sadie and Cale are so happy with small town life.”

Luca has very expressive eyebrows and right now they go sky high. “I figured you’d never want to leave New York.”

“You figured wrong. Lately every time I go to the city I can’t wait to leave. And Long Island is less chaotic but if not for my sisters I could move away tomorrow and not look back.”

Luca’s gaze is fixed on me so intently that I should be squirming in my seat. I dislike being scrutinized. The wary armor I’ve spent years building isn’t easily chipped.

Yet I don’t mind being different with him. I want Luca to see me as I am.

A waitress wearing a silver nametag that says BEA stops by to take our order. It’s an easy one. We both order bacon double cheeseburgers with cheese fries. Serve us right if we get heartburn.

Amid the sound of big band music piping through the speakers, Luca’s right hand reaches for my left hand. He rolls back my sweater sleeve and gently rubs my swollen wrist.

“Does it still hurt?” he asks.

I watch as his strong fingers explore with the tenderest pressure. “Feels better now.”

But I need to redirect my thoughts before I start dwelling on where else his fingers have been and how they’ve made me feel.

All of a sudden, the high school kids break out into a rowdy sports chant. They keep getting louder until our waitress wades right into the group and hisses at them to turn down the volume.

“Sorry, Mom,” says one of the boys.

She throws him a look and he slinks back into a booth with his buddies.

Luca watches the scene with a smirk, maybe remembering his own high school days.

As for me, I keep watching him.

“Do you want kids?” I blurt, a little too loudly. “I mean, not right this minute. But someday?”

This seems like a very basic fact I ought to know about the man I’m married to. However, we’ve never discussed having a family.

Luca continues to idly stroke my wrist as he considers the idea. In time, a smile spreads over his face.

“Yeah, I want kids. At least two. I couldn’t imagine my life without my brother.”

“Three. Being the middle child is definitely underrated.”

“Three,” he agrees. “We’ll have three.”

We exchange goofy smiles over the thought of our future children as our fingers lace together. Such a small act of affection, holding hands. And yet it fills me with such pleasure that I’m reminded of those musicals where characters spontaneously break into song at a pivotal scene.

I’m not going to sing, mostly because I can’t even carry a tune.

But at least now I understand why the urge exists.

Our meals are every bit as greasy and excessively covered with processed cheese as the menu promised. We leave Bea a sizable tip and crunch on peppermints as we swap the warm comfort of the diner for the bitter cold outside.

Luca keeps his arm around me on the walk to the truck and starts the engine, switching on the heat full blast before he tucks me into the passenger seat.

Since it’s Sunday night, there’s not much else open right now in the immediate area. It’s too cold to walk around outside so we just drive around for a little while and check out the town. We pass Gus’s veterinary practice, an elementary school, and a stately brick building that serves as the town hall. The handful of novelty shops along the main thoroughfare capture my interest. I’ll be back to find some cute souvenirs for Daisy and Sabrina.

With little else to see, we leave Sleepy Rock behind for the evening. We are the only vehicle coasting along the dark road to the ranch.

“Thank you for this,” I say. “For taking me out tonight.”

When Luca keeps his eyes on the road and doesn’t answer right away, I start to wonder if I sounded too hopelessly needy.

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