Page 73 of Luca
Once satisfied, she put her phone away and returned her attention to me.
“How was your day?” she asked as she cut into her food. “Are you making headway with your businesses?”
I swallowed my food before answering. “Yes, slowly but surely. Are you missing Sicily?’
Her lips curved into a soft smile. “I am. And Nonno.”
I tilted my head thinking she was joking, but she looked serious.
“I can ask him if he’d be interested to visit us for a bit?” I offered.
She shook her head. “He loves it there so much,” she answered. “Don’t make him suffer through this metropolitan circus. Once we’re done here, we’ll be back there.”
“And how was your day?” I asked her. “Besides preparing this delicious meal.”
She shrugged. “It was okay. My brothers swung by for a quick visit.” She rolled her eyes, but her soft expression kind of ruined it. “They had to ensure this place was decent enough.”
A sardonic breath left me. “Did they find it lacking?”
“Tyran and Kyran objected to everything,” she admitted. “Aiden shut them down. He said security is top notch and the place is very nice. Besides, he seems to be the only one to acknowledge that we’ll be living in Sicily. The twins decided to ignore the whole thing all together. Aiden said they are not happy to have me living so far away.”
“They can come visit,” I assured her. When she gave me a dubious look, I continued. “I told you, Marchetti will not harm you nor your brothers.”
“But he’ll hurt Uncle?”
I shrugged. “I’m afraid Marchetti’s graces do not extend to your uncle. He killed his twin brother and that will remain a bitter pill until his dying breath.”
She sighed and returned to eating her food.
Once we finished, we cleaned up the table together. She rinsed the dishes, and I put them into the dishwasher. Like we’d done it a million times.
“I’m surprised you help with cleaning up,” she spoke up, leaning against the counter and wiping her hands, all the while watching me.
“My grandparents tag teamed in the kitchen,” I told her as I shut the dishwasher door. “It didn’t matter that he was the head of the Sicilian mafia. At home, he was a husband and father.”
I wrapped an arm around her waist and led her to the couch. It was too early for bed. Her cheeks were flushed as I dipped my head. “I plan on following in the footsteps of Nonno.”
Grabbing the remote, I sat on the couch and she followed suit, then kicked off her shoes and I lifted her legs, placing them across my lap.
She let out a sigh the moment my fingers wrapped around her swollen ankle. I turned the television on, and it defaulted to the last channel watched. The TCM channel that played old movies.
Aubrey Hepburn’s face filled the screen.Roman Holidayplayed.
“Ah, I love this movie,” she admitted, her eyes on the screen.
I chuckled. “I know, you’ve only watched it ten times or so since we got married.” She grinned, twisting her ankle. Stretching her legs. “Does it hurt?” I asked her.
She shook her head. “More of an inconvenience,” she murmured, closing her eyes.
Touching her was torturous and a delight at the same time. If touching my wife’s swollen ankles gave me a hard-on, I was so far gone there was no chance of ever coming back. But if this was what she was willing to offer for now, I’d take it.
“God, you’re good with your hands,” she whispered.
Her eyes shot open at the realization of how those words sounded.
“Thank you, bella. That’s good to hear.” I smiled smugly. “Honestly, I was quite disappointed you hadn’t come to see me in my room since the honeymoon.”
I felt her body stiffen, but she didn’t look away. No, not Margaret. Her gaze met mine head on.
