Page 64 of Of Murder and Matrimony

When we arrived, I opened the door and helped Olesya out of the car. Mia flung the door open as we approached the front step, her navy skirt swirling around her legs as she checked the buttons on her white blouse. A winded Bruno appeared, panting behind her. I lifted a brow at him as Mia enveloped Olesya in a hug and led her inside.

“She ran downstairs and across the house when she saw the car,” Bruno explained, rubbing his lower back.

I patted his shoulder and chuckled as I passed, searching for my brother. Niccolò sat in a plush black leather recliner in the living area, tipping his head when I entered.

“I see you’re moving fast,” I teased, taking a seat on the matching couch across from him.

He chuckled but didn’t wince at the motion. That was an improvement, along with the black linen pants he wore with a loose, short-sleeved black button-up. He looked ready for a tropical vacation, but it was a step up from sweats. “I’ve already taken my daily walk and put up with the physical therapist’s torture session.”

“That bad?”

“He’s exaggerating,” Mia tossed out as she and Olesya returned with a tray full of pastries and plates. She set the food on the table, and Olesya placed a confection on each plate and handed them out. She sat next to me while Mia perched on the arm of the recliner. Niccolò absently stroked her thigh as he ate his pastry.

“I’m not,” Niccolò protested. “If we hired her, she might be more effective at extracting information than Cosimo. And she wouldn’t have to shed a drop of blood. It would save a fortune in cleaning supplies.”

I choked on the confectioner’s sugar topping my pastry when I laughed, pounding my chest with my fist and clearing my throat. “Please let me be there when you say that to him. That’s all I ask.”

“I told him his job was on the line two weeks into physical therapy when I realized the woman is a sadist,” Niccolò supplied.

“You’re just mad because she said you have to take two thirty-minute walks a day.” Mia giggled at the stormy look on her husband’s face and brushed a bit of sugar from the corner of his mouth with her thumb. “Speaking of, why don’t you and Dante do a lap around the backyard? That’ll give me some peace and quiet with Olesya.”

“Are you trying to get rid of me?” Niccolò asked suspiciously, pushing himself up from his seat.

“Of course not,” Mia answered innocently. “I just promised Olesya I’d show her some of my recipes. Right?”

Mia lifted her brows at Olesya. My wife answered with a conspiratorial grin. “Yes. I need all the help I can get.”

I didn’t point out that she had all of my mother’s recipes at her fingertips at home. Instead, I patted Olesya on the rear as she passed, watching that gorgeous ass as she walked toward the kitchen.

“I guess we’re going for a walk,” Niccolò grumbled as he slipped his feet into loafers and led me to the back door. While his property was smaller than our family home, it still sported a small garden, pool, hot tub, and enough green lawn for kids to play in one day not so far away.

We began a loop on the yard's edge, the summer sun beating down on our backs. “How’s the recovery going?”

“I’m better than I was,” he said, shrugging his right shoulder. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about something.”

“What’s that?”

“I’m going to take Mia away from Chicago as soon as I’m well enough.” Niccolò looked at me, gauging my reaction.

What was I supposed to do? Forbid him from taking a vacation? “A couple of weeks away sounds like a good idea.”

“More than that.” He paused and leaned against the trunk of a large oak tree. “I plan to take her to Calabria, check out The Edge getaway, spend some time someplace where I don’t have to worry about family threats. I’ve already discussed it with Nonno.”

I shoved my hands in my pockets and kicked at a wayward leaf. “Is this a permanent move?”

“I haven’t decided,” he admitted. “I can’t have Mia constantly worried that somebody will shoot me when I set foot out of the house. Especially now that she’s carrying my child.”

Nodding, I cleared the emotion from my throat. My brothers and I hadn’t spent much time apart. Chicago-born and bred, the family had always come first. But now, Niccolò’s family was growing in a different direction. “I understand. You do what’s best for your family. But if you move, know that we’ll visit at the most inopportune times.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything less.” Niccolò chuckled.

“When do you leave?” I resumed the lap, and Niccolò followed, keeping stride with me.

“Not sure yet. When I don’t need so much physical therapy.” He absently rubbed his left shoulder. “Maybe a month or two. Early enough that we have some time together before the baby is born. If Mia wants to return home to have the baby, we’ll do that if it’s safe.”

“I’m working on that.” I pivoted at the back fence and headed back toward the house.

“I know.” Niccolò’s steps seemed lighter now that he’d shared his news. “I don’t blame you for any of this. I’d been considering it even before we found out Mia’s pregnant. She loved Calabria, and I liked who I was there.”

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