Page 78 of Santa’s Little Faker
It did nothing to his stomach.
The brat was allergic topomegranates, not pasta.
“He’s fine.” But he was going to be in trouble because I could hear him hiding in the hallway, probably just out of sight. “He will text you later at a more reasonable hour, or if you would like a phone call he can do that closer to lunch.”
When her glare came back and she opened her mouth, I cut her off before she could demand something else insane. “We have plans.”
Stubbornness was a virtue.
Stubbornness was a virtue.
Stubbornness was a virtue.
“I was going to take him to the library.” All I could do was wonder how she’d gotten to her age without somebody killing her.
“You need to google that woman’s name and then reevaluate that plan.” This was getting ridiculous and she’d already lost her chance at me being polite. “Orlando is taken. He does not need to be fixed up with anyone.”
Her huff had me fighting the urge to roll my eyes again. “You don’t have to lie to protect him. He just needs a push to find the right person.”
I admired the fact that she’d said right person, but that was as much credit as I’d give her.
“He’s found the right person.” We were just going to go in circles if I didn’t put a stop to this. “This is my final warning, Francesca. Atlantic City.”
I could fight fire with fire.
Her shocked inhale and wide eyes made me finally smile and I knew it was an evil look by the way she was staring at me in horror. “You wouldn’t.”
“I would.”Watch me. “You may have Enzo or any of the men in the family pay me a visit if I mistreat him, otherwise, I expect respect.”
It was too much to hope she’d just leave us alone, but respect should be a reasonable goal and something vaguely defined enough that I could use it to my advantage.
“Fine.” She knew I’d won and whirled herself around, nearly taking a header down my steps in her drama-fueled pouting.
I didn’t let out my breath until she’d made it to the ground and was stomping across my yard toward her car that was parked on the street. “Have a good day. It was nice to see you.”
“Did my mother just flip you off?” Orlando’s whispered tone coming from behind me had me thinking about laughing. “You’re amazing. You got her that mad and she left.”
As he mumbled something about needing a Daddy years ago, I turned around and headed back in, not letting my expression change until we were safely behind locked doors. “Where did my backup go?”
He blinked as he stepped back from the curtain beside the door. “I would’ve just distracted her. You were scary on your own and kept her attention.”
“She’s not a wild cat you needed protection from.” His shrug said he wasn’t going to agree with me on that. “But I will accept your logic since it’s early and neither of us have had caffeine.”
“Or an orgasm.” Orlando was making it hard to keep a straight face, but it was time for us to talk. “What does—”
“Nope. You can’t ask about that and it’s only to be used in the direst of circumstances.” The bulldozer in a dress had just needed to see I was serious as a fucking heart attack or mob-filled nonsense. “You can’t even use the word around your cousins or anyone. She didn’t know you were that close.”
Sighing, Orlando nodded. “Got it. I promise.”
He actually seemed sincere, so I took his hand before he could try to distract me again. “Talk time.”
“Then orgasms and pancakes?” His earnest excitement said it was going to be hard to keep us on track. “I was really good last night. I remembered your limits and found a scene that worked within those limits and I went to bed on time. That means orgasms this morning.”
“We’ve got something to clear up first.” At least, I was pretty sure we did. The pieces were weird but were starting to come together. “Come sit with me.”
Deflating like a popped balloon, Orlando widened his eyes and pouted. “With a bottle?”
“No, with a conversation and possibly a confession.” Yeah, he had that same look when his mother had realized he’d stolen his cousin’s Halloween candy and sold it at school.
