Page 26 of The Princess, the Prick & the Priest (Confessions 4)

What did they do? How did they all meet? How old were they? Thirties was all they got there. But just as Robbie had suspected, nothing was off-limits, and surprisingly, Julien and Priest had an easy answer for every question.

It was weird, really. Robbie had been so nervous about asking these simple questions of these two when he’d first met them, that he’d figured it would be as awkward for his family as well. But somehow Julien and Priest seemed to fit right in, and were apparently happy to stand in a kitchen with four nosey Italians as they prepped the seafood for the big stew his mother was making for dinner.

Julien had been put to work on filleting the fish, since he was an expert. Robbie was on the other side of the kitchen with Felicity cleaning and cutting the calamari, while Priest…Priest had been commandeered by Valerie to deal with the filling of the cannoli, and that was quickly becoming the entertainment of the afternoon.

“So you’re a lawyer?” Valerie said, as she put a tray of empty cannoli shells in front of Priest.

As Priest smiled down at the shortest of the Bianchi clan, Valerie practically batted her lashes at him, and Priest glanced in Robbie’s direction. Robbie quickly looked away, trying to hide his smirk because payback is so delicious…really it is.

“I am, yes,” Priest said, polite as can be as Valerie handed him a plump piping bag full of the sweet ricotta mixture. “Julien might actually be better at whatever it is we’re about to do here.”

“Oh, I doubt that,” Valerie said as she picked up one of the pastry shells and directed Priest’s hand so the tip of the nozzle was at the opening. “You just have to squeeze with a firm, steady hand. You can do that, right?”

Robbie snorted, trying to hold back his amusement, but Priest’s expression was priceless. His eyes had widened at Valerie’s boldness, and he appeared speechless as she brushed her blonde hair over her shoulder and moved even closer.

Robbie probably should’ve mentioned something about Valerie’s affinity for gingers. He’d been going to in the car on the way up there, but that would’ve taken away half his fun, and watching her fawn all over Priest, and seeing him squirm, was making Robbie’s afternoon.

“So which one’s the better kisser?” Felicity asked under her breath, and Robbie’s head whipped around so fast that he was surprised it didn’t fly right off his neck. As he gave her a look that screamed, Shut your face, she just laughed and blew one of her black curls out of her eyes. “Come on. Don’t act like some kind of saint now.”

Leaving Priest to fend for himself, Robbie reached for his next victim and started chopping a little harder than necessary. “I’m not,” he said through gritted teeth. “But a lady doesn’t tell. Especially in his mother’s kitchen.”

“Since when have you been a lady? And I’m sure you’ve done much worse in this kitchen,” Felicity said, then took a sip of her Chardonnay.

“Have not. But I’m not about to tell you now. Ma is right over there. I don’t want her finding out that—”

“You’re a big slut?” She grinned.

Robbie picked up one of the octopuses and dangled it at her. “Want one of these in your bed tonight?”

She scrunched her nose and held her hands up. “Well, yours will be too full, so yes, he can come sleep with me.”

“You’re lucky we aren’t staying here, or you’d be in so much trouble.”

Felicity put her wine glass on the counter and frowned. “What do you mean you aren’t staying here?”

Robbie glared at her, but Felicity merely raised her eyebrows, expecting a response.

“We just thought it would be easier if we stayed at a hotel down at the waterfront.”

“Easier?” Felicity said, and when their mother left the kitchen, she said, “Pazzo. The minute Ma hears you aren’t staying here, she is going to have a conniption fit.”

“Which is why I haven’t told her yet,” Robbie said, as he reached for the next slippery little sucker. “I’m kind of hoping that Penny”—as if on cue, Robbie’s oldest sister Penelope pushed open the back door of the house and stepped into the kitchen—“shows up.”

Penny looked the picture of perfection with her high-waist A-line dress of white and navy, and cute little cropped cardigan. Around her neck sat the gold crucifix she’d been given on her sixteenth birthday, and as Robbie’s eyes dropped to her pregnant belly, all he could think was: Aw, we’re such a good little Catholic family. The unwed pregnant daughter, and the gay son who brought his married boyfriends home. Oh well, we can’t all be perfect.

“Well, well, look who’s here,” Penny said as she walked to Robbie, then kissed him on the cheek. “I didn’t believe Felicity when she said you’d actually agreed to come home for the weekend.”

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