Page 2 of Worship
I slap the table a few times to regain order and everyone quiets down again.
“One more toast. To my brother Dominic—per cento anni,”For one hundred years.
My toast is for his new marriage to Drew, a woman who managed to nab my brother’s heart in one helluva one-night stand. They’re perfect for each another.I envy him.
“Hear, hear,” everyone chimes in, yelling and clinking glasses to toast Dominic.
I take a swig of my bourbon to swallow my guilt for my shitty jealousy. But I want that kind of security in a woman. To know I’ve met my match and be able to fucking worship her. I’d hoped once…but like most things in life, I was handed a lie.
I shake the thought and blink a few times to rejoin the chatter around me.
“And if it doesn’t work out, send her my way. That woman is too good for you!” Matteo yells over the ruckus, only to get the back of his head smacked by Nico, who’s closest.
He grimaces and gives Nico a look but doesn’t push back. I laugh at his false bravado. That’s Matteo for you: a party prince and son to Frank Prozzi, king of nightlife and ear to my uncle. Matteo hates his father almost as much as I hate my uncle.
“Speaking of Drew,” Dante, my oldest brother interrupts, “where’s the better half, Dom?”
“Out with friends, doing some spa, girly thing. Gretchen came by earlier to steal her, some shit about a makeup bachelorette. I think they just want to keep celebrating my girl.”
I warm, only on the inside, at the mention of her name. Pretending not to give two shits about her when I see her is quickly becoming more and more difficult. Gretchen has a pull—it’s ridiculous, but anytime I’m around that fucking woman, I find myself next to her, orbiting. It doesn’t help that she has long caramel legs and an ass I want to bite.
But it’s her eyes. Her emerald green eyes, framed by her straight, jet-black hair, that makes me want to see myself through them.
I stand to make my way to the bar with my glass even though it’s full.
“You remember Gretchen, right, Luca?” Dom asks innocently. “Wasn’t she there when Drew thought you were me?”
“Oh shit, it’s like high school all over again.” Antonio laughs loudly. “The twin thing came in real handy until the girls figured out who was who,” he barks, patting Dom’s back.
“Yeah, well, that shit happened again. Drew rolled up to the restaurant downtown and saw Luca with Shelby and Ella and tore him a new one, thinking he was me.” He’s laughing loudly with the others, sipping his drink and enjoying the story. “Tell them! Tell them what happened,” he coaxes.
“I barely remember,” I say nonchalantly. “You tell it better anyway. I’ll be right back.”
I walk inside the house and into a hall between the kitchen and dining room where the pantry and bar are located. Gulping my drink down, I crack my neck, trying to forget old memories.
I remember Drew yelling at me and feeling embarrassed that she got the wrong twin. And I definitely remember Gretchen. She was impossible to ignore. The girl is fucking gorgeous and has a body made for sin, but it’s her badass attitude that made me sit up and pay attention.
That attention was what got me into trouble later. She’d handed me her card and said to call her so we could give our people the nudge they needed to get together. Women give me their numbers all the time, sometimes with Shelby next to me, but this is the first time I kept one. The first time I’d wished I could call.
“Take my card—we should help each other out and get our two dummies back together.” Her smile is as sneaky as her words, and I immediately like her.
I pluck the card from her fingers as she turns to walk away, not waiting for my answer. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Gretchen Andrews.”
“I get that a lot.” She doesn’t even slow as she sashays away.
“Don’t you want to hear my answer?” This woman is refreshing.
She stops her sexy-as-fuck retreat and looks over her shoulder. “It wasn’t a question, Luca.”
I shake my head to rid myself of my thoughts because ever since I met Gretchen Andrews, I haven’t stopped picturing her naked beneath me. And that’s a problem for a married man. Even one with a marriage that’s full of shit.
A marriage Gretchen knows is full of shit because, for whatever reason, I couldn’t keep my mouth shut last week at the wedding celebration. I grab the bourbon and pour myself another glass.Keep your shit together, Luca.
Dante appears in the doorway, swigging his beer and staring at me. That stare that both he and Dom give when they call me out on my bullshit. I expect it from Dominic because we’re twins. It’s irritating when Dante does it.
“What?” I snap at him.
“Me what? You what?” He jabs, accepting the cold beer I hand him, in replacement of his empty one.
