Page 17 of Books and Hookups

How the hell did my mother know about my hookups? I ran a hand over my face. It was pointless to guess which of my siblings had ratted me out. “It’s not like I do it all the time,” I muttered. I hadn’t hooked up with anyone since Lucie a month ago.

My mother grabbed my hand and held it. “You’ve always been a caretaker to your younger brothers and sisters. There’s an empty place in your heart, and it’s waiting for a wife and family of your own.”

She wasn’t wrong, but… “I’ve got to buy the bar first. You know every penny I earn is going into my savings account for it.”

“You can buy the baranddate someone. Anyone who’s worth pursuing will go through the lean times with you. It’s all about partnership.”

“The only partner I want right now is Leo. Once we own the bar, we’ll make it a place that ensures anyone in the family can have a good job.”

“You’re a good boy.” She patted my cheek. “Everyone appreciates what you did for Nico, but you’re still going to meet Carmela.”

“Of course I am,” I muttered as she dragged me toward the back porch, where a pretty woman bent over my mother’s potted lemon tree. She looked up and smiled when we stepped onto the concrete slab. Her dark hair had waves in it that sparkled in the sunlight, and her eyes were startlingly blue. A gold cross glittered at the hollow between her collarbones.

“Carmela, look who I found! This is my son, Danny.” My mother shoved me at Carmela and ducked back inside the house. The screen door slammed shut.

“Classic Carrie Carbone move.” I pointed with my thumb at the screen door. “One of her favorite mantras is ‘a watched pot never boils.’ Nice to meet you.”

“We’re the simmering pot?” Carmela raised her eyebrows.

“That’s what she’s hoping.” I shook her hand. It was soft in mine.

“Carrie’s told me so much about you.”

I chuckled. “Don’t believe half of it. I’m sure she’s made me out to be some kind of saint. But I’m actually a bartender.”

“At Barb’s Bar? Carrie told me you’re planning to take it over. I’ve never been inside. I’m not much of a drinker, but it looks like a nice place.”

“It is. The bar could use some updates, but we’ve got a healthy crowd of regulars. It’s got good bones.”

She let her gaze trail over me, from my rust gingham button-down to the polished toes of my brown chukkas. I could see the echo of “good bones” in her appraisal. Lucie would’ve said it out loud, then jumped them.

I wiped Lucie from my brain. “What do you do, Carmela?”

“I’m a teacher. Second grade.”

“You must love kids.” No wonder Ma had shoved us together.

“I do. What about you?”

“Yeah.” I gazed at the swing set in the backyard. My siblings and I had used it practically every day. Now my young cousins kicked high into the sky. Little Emma climbed the ladder to the slide under the watchful eye of her father.

I let myself imagine pushing a little girl with Carmela’s raven hair and blue eyes on the swing while Carmela stood at the bottom of the slide, beckoning a little boy with my long nose to let go and slide down. But it dissolved, and it was just Lucie and me. I was pushing her on the swing, her sable curls flying as she pointed her black combat boots toward the clouds.

I was being ridiculous. Lucie would never come to my mother’s house. She wanted exactly one thing from me: my dick. Two things if you counted being served her favorite drink. I needed a nice woman like Carmela to settle down with.

I should’ve been attracted to her. So, why wasn’t I? While I was focused on the bar, I was no good to anyone. Once Leo and I had the deed in our hands, I’d have something to offer a partner. I’d be able to feel something, then I’d let Ma set me up.

I rubbed the back of my neck. “I’ve got to find my brother. You should grab a plate in the kitchen before my uncles pick it clean. Be sure you try my mother’s braciole.”

Disappointment tightened Carmela’s mouth. “Sure. It was nice meeting you, Danny. Best of luck with the bar. I hope you find what you’re looking for.”

“Thanks.” I slunk back through the door and, avoiding the kitchen where I knew my mother would smack me for ruining her setup, followed the sound of Leo’s laugh to the living room, where he stood with Uncle Gio. They both held empty grappa glasses, and the tip of my uncle’s nose was red.

“Danny, Danny, Danny. C’mere. Here’s your beer,” my brother said, holding out a bottle. “Oh, wait, I drank it. I’ll get you another one.” His unfocused eyes panned over the living room like he’d find a cooler of beers in there.

I slung an arm around his shoulders to steady him. “Don’t worry about it. I’m good.” I gripped Uncle Gio’s shoulder. “How’s it going, Zio?”

“Good, good, Danny. I was telling Leo about a space that came available in my neighborhood.”

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