Page 208 of Love Me Stalk Me
I snort, shaking my head. "And then there's Nico. The flirt, the troublemaker. He's going to try to arm wrestle you at the dinner table. Just a warning."
Cal nods, absorbing all of this information like he's mentally preparing for battle. "Should I be worried?"
I squint at him, pretending to assess his odds. "I'd say... seventy-thirty chance you walk out of this unscathed."
"Not bad."
I raise an eyebrow. "I didn't say which way the odds were leaning."
He chuckles again, but then we're pulling up to my family's house, and suddenly, I'm reconsidering all of my life choices. Cal parks, kills the engine, then turns to me, one arm draped over the steering wheel, the other resting against his thigh. He's completely calm. Meanwhile, I'm internally screaming.
"Are you sure?" I ask, my voice a little higher than I'd like. "Last chance to back out. I'll still think you're hot and sexy and all that even if you don't wanna meet my family."
His eyes glint with amusement. Then, he reaches over, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear, his fingers trailing slow against my skin.
"Let's go, pretty girl," he murmurs.
Well. That's definitely one way to get me out of the car.
The moment we step inside the house, all hell breaks loose. Tony Soprano and Lady Gaga come tearing around the corner, yapping at eighty decibels, their tiny paws scrabbling on the tile as they circle our legs like sharks. Dad shouts from somewhere in the house, "Don't let them out!" while Mama's voice carries from the kitchen, already complaining about something boiling over.
Nonna is the first human to descend. She grabs Cal's face in her hands, pulling him down so she can aggressively kiss both of his cheeks, all while speaking rapid-fire Italian that I barely catch. Something about how strong he looks, how he must eat well, and "Madonna, those arms!" Then, to my absolute horror, she squeezes his bicep, letting out a low whistle before crossing herself and muttering what sounds suspiciously like a prayer of thanks.
I barely have time to translate before Luca and Nico appear, standing shoulder to shoulder like two men who have been training for this moment their entire lives. Matteo is a beat behind them, holding his baby girl in one arm and a glass of wine in the other, watching the scene unfold with the same look of amusement as my dad.
Cal takes it all in stride.
"Callahan, right?" Luca says, arms crossed over his chest. I may have texted the family chat that I was bringing him for dinner.
"That's me."
"You a cop?"
Cal chuckles. "No."
Nico tiltshis head. "FBI?"
"Nope."
"Military?"
Cal's jaw ticks slightly, but he gives them an easy nod. "Used to be."
Luca and Nico exchange a look.
Matteo clears his throat. "You have experience with a gun?"
"I have experience with a lot of things."
Oh. Oh no. I need to get him out of here before my brothers eat him alive.
"Okay!" I clap my hands together, stepping between them before they can start an actual interrogation. "Let's not grill the poor man five seconds after he walks through the door."
"Oh, we're just getting started, Izzy," Luca quips, throwing his arm over my shoulder before turning back to Cal with a devious smile.
I know that look. That is the look of a man who has a plan. And that means I have to get Cal out of here.
"Mama needs help in the kitchen!" I blurt, peeling Luca's arm off me. "So, Cal and I will be?—"
