Page 87 of Luca
I didn’t have time to roll my eyes because my brothers stormed in. Loud. Big. And happy.
This time I stood up and wobbled straight to their arms. “God, we can’t even sandwich her in anymore,” Tyran teased. “She’s bigger than a house.”
I pinched him. Hard. “Ouch.”
“Wimp.”
Before he could utter a comeback, the door opened and numerous servers entered the room with tray after tray, filling the table with all different kinds of food.
“I took the liberty of having the chef prepare everything on the menu.” His gaze met mine and he winked. Gosh, I could kiss him right now. This would definitely shorten our lunch. There’d be no debating what to order, no delays on cooking.
Perfect.
The lunch was better than I could have hoped for.
When Luca and I returned to our penthouse, I kicked off my shoes and sighed in relief.
“Do you need your feet rubbed?” he offered.
I chuckled softly. “How can a woman say no to that?”
Taking a deep breath, I slipped my hand into his steady one.
ChapterThirty-Three
MARGARET
Timing was peculiar.
The mail came addressed to me with the matching golden letters on the envelope. It was only a few days ago that I admitted my bucket list to my husband.
I read the invitation again. Fancy golden letters on the red matte card.
You’re cordially invited to La Sensazione erotica. Black tie dress code. One partner allowed.
“What’s that?” Luca appeared behind me, sneaking up on me. The man could move as silently as a cat burglar when he wanted to.
I showed him the card and his eyebrows shot up. Then he came around the couch and I immediately shifted my legs. He flopped on the couch and propped his feet on the coffee table, then pulled my ankles, placing them over his lap.
We had fallen into a routine. A typical married life. At least I thought it was. I felt comfortable around him. I loved his strong, firm fingers on my skin. I loved talking to him. Truthfully, there wasn’t much I didn’t love about him.
“You going to do it?” he questioned, his gaze flickering to the television as his fingers roamed my ankles, massaging the skin. I chewed on my bottom lip. “If you’re worried, I’ll go with you.”
An incredulous breath escaped me. “Won’t that be weird?” I questioned. “The two of us going there?”
He chuckled. “Probably not any more weird than how we got here.” His fingers rubbed my skin, up and down. The feel of his rough skin against my soft one, massaging had my body relaxing. “Besides, who cares what anyone thinks! As long as you cross stuff off your bucket list.”
I watched him suspiciously. “Is this your doing?”
His expression was untelling. He had a good poker face. Too good of a poker face. He could be so exasperating.
“Luca,” I growled softly.
The circular motion of his fingers soothed and never ceased.
“I did secure the invitation,” he admitted. “I want you to check the items off your bucket list. We can go now. Or after the baby is born. Whatever you want.”
“Oh my God,” I gasped. My husband certainly listened when I talked. A strangled laugh escaped me. “Are you trying to get them all checked off?”
