Page 80 of Beautifully Broken
The Family Vacation
The Family Vacation
The airplane seat feels cramped even in first class, but I can't complain when I'm sandwiched between Daddy and Uncle Tony while Nonno sits across the aisle, occasionally glancing over with that knowing smile of his. The Santini men have a way of making even the most mundane moments feel like an adventure.
Though, this is actually an adventure, I suppose.
"Sasha, sweetheart, you're hogging the armrest again," Daddy murmurs in my ear, his voice carrying that gentle teasing tone that makes my stomach flutter. At forty-seven, he's got this distinguished silver threading through his dark brown hair that makes him look like a movie star from the golden age of Hollywood.
"Maybe if your brother wasn't built like a linebacker, there'd be more room," I shoot back, elbowing Uncle Tony playfully. He and Daddy are fraternal twins, so while Daddy is lean and darker, Uncle Tony is the opposite – broader, more muscular, with calloused hands that speak of dedication in the gym before he joined the family business.
Daddy has blue eyes, while Uncle Tony’s are deep green, and Uncle Tony has blond curls he keeps in a neat ponytail most of the time, like a retired rock god.
"Hey now, tesoro," Uncle Tony grumbles, but I can hear the affection in his gravelly voice. "Some of us actually care about our appearance."
"Says the man who hasn’t seen a hairbrush in years," I retort, settling back against Daddy's shoulder. The familiar scent of his cologne, something smoky and expensive that Nonno picked out for him, makes me feel safe and content.
Nonno chuckles from across the aisle, not looking up from his book. "Children, please. We're in public."
"Don't start with us, old man," Uncle Tony calls over, grinning. "You're the one who insisted on bringing half the library with you."
"Knowledge is never excess baggage, Anthony," Nonno replies smoothly, finally glancing up. At sixty-six, he's still devastatingly handsome, with silver hair and these piercing green eyes that seem to see right through you. "Besides, someone needs to maintain some semblance of sophistication in this family."
"Sophistication?" I laugh, reaching across the aisle to squeeze his hand. "This coming from the man who tried to sneak a flask past security?"
"Attempted," he corrects with mock dignity. "And it was vintage whiskey, not some cheap swill."
Daddy shakes his head, pressing a kiss to my temple. "We're never going to live that down, are we, Dad?"
"Probably not," Nonno admits, squeezing my fingers before releasing them. "Though I maintain that airport security has no appreciation for fine spirits."
The flight attendant approaches with another round of drinks, and I notice the way she lingers, her eyes appreciating the Santini Daddy pool. I can't blame her; between the three of them, they're quite the sight. Daddy with his gentle elegance, Uncle Tony with his rugged charm, and Nonno with his distinguished authority. They're all mine, and sometimes I still can't believe how lucky I am.
Especially considering until I was sixteen, they were legally my stepfamily.
"Ma'am, would you like another wine?" the attendant asks, her professional smile not quite hiding her curiosity about our seating arrangement.
"Please," I say warmly, ignoring the questions in her eyes. Let her wonder. After so many years with these men, I've learned to let the outside world think what it wants.
"So, Sasha," Daddy says as the attendant moves on, "are you excited about finally seeing Santorini?"
"Ecstatic," I reply, and I mean it. "Though I still can't believe you three planned this whole trip without telling me where we were going." Even when we had our honeymoon, I was in on every aspect of the planning.
"Some things are worth the surprise," Nonno says, eyes twinkling. "Besides, you work too hard. Someone needed to ensure you actually took a proper vacation."
"I take vacations," I protest weakly.
"Working remotely from a different city doesn't count as a vacation, sweetheart," Daddy points out, running his fingers through my hair. "When was the last time you went somewhere without your laptop?"
I open my mouth to argue, then close it. He has a point.
"Exactly," Uncle Tony says, settling back in his seat. "This time, we're confiscating all work devices. Doctor's orders."
"You're not a doctor," I remind him.
"Doctor of keeping Sasha Santini happy," he says with a wink. "It's a very specialized field."
Nonno snorts. "If that were a real degree, you'd have failed the entrance exam."
