Taste (Cloverleigh Farms, #7)(79)

My mom entered the room and leaned on the bathroom doorway. “Just checking on you. You okay?”

I spit out my toothpaste and rinsed the sink. “I’m okay enough. Is Dad okay? He was pretty quiet.”

“He’s fine. It’s been a long day.”

“Yeah.” I switched off the bathroom light and crawled into bed.

My mom turned off my lamp and brought the covers to my shoulders. “You know you can stay here as long as you want. And Dad and I will move back before summer is over.”

“Okay.”

“I wasn’t sure what—if any—living arrangements you and Gianni had discussed.”

“None.”

She bit her lip. “So there’s no chance you two could work things out?”

“There’s nothing to work out, Mom. It’s not like we were together and then broke up. We weren’t a couple. Gianni doesn’t do relationships.”

She sat on the edge of the mattress and brushed my hair back from my face. “Finding out you were pregnant must have been quite a shock.”

“Yeah.”

“But it’s not the end of the world, Ellie. And I think Gianni will be a good dad.”

“You do?”

“Sure.” She continued stroking my hair. “He’s young, but he’s dependable, compassionate, loyal . . .”

“Are we talking about the same Gianni Lupo who tormented me all those years? I’m pretty sure he beheaded at least one doll.”

My mom laughed. “I know he was a bit of a stinker growing up, but he was raised right, he works hard, and he has a good heart.”

“I guess.”

“And he’s always been sweetly protective of you.”

“Mom, stop.”

“He has, Ellie! Remember that time you fell in the driveway at their house and he carried you inside with two bloody knees? You two couldn’t have been more than five years old.”

I sat up and stared at her in the dark. “Wait a minute. Is that true?”

“Yes.”

“I always thought the person who carried me inside was Uncle Nick, but Gianni says it was him.”

“It was Gianni.”

“Dammit. He was right.” I lay back again. “That’s so annoying.”

My mother laughed before leaning over and kissing my forehead. “Give him a chance, Ellie. I have a feeling you see the boy he was when you look at him, not the man he could be.”

“Because he hasn’t shown me the man he could be, Mom. Only the boy.”

“Keep watching him,” she said gently. “Goodnight, sweetheart.”

“Night.”

She pulled the door shut behind her and left me alone in the dark, wondering if there was a chance I was wrong about Gianni Lupo after all.





TWENTY-ONE





GIANNI





Every morning that week, I brought her breakfast.

I’d stop at the bakery on my way into work and then bring them to the tasting room on my way to the kitchen—of course, it wasn’t really on the way, but it gave me the chance to see her before work and ask how she was feeling.

“The same,” she’d say. “Tired, but okay.”

On the Monday morning after we’d told my parents, she wasn’t in the tasting room. For a moment, I panicked that something was wrong, and I pulled out my phone to text her. While I was typing a frantic message, she breezed in behind me.

“Morning,” she said.

“Morning.” I looked at her with concern, but she looked perfectly beautiful—glowing and rested, much better than last week. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. I slept in a little.”

“Oh.” The tension in my shoulders eased. “I was worried. You’re usually down here by ten o’clock.”

She smiled. “I’m okay.”

I set the bakery bag on the counter. “Hungry?”

“Yes, thank you. But you don’t need to feed me, you know.”

“I like feeding you.” I shrugged. “It’s kind of my thing.”

She opened the bag and eagerly bit into a pastry. “Mmm. Actually, I’m glad you’re here. My ultrasound appointment is tomorrow. Do you still want to go?”

“Yes. What time?”

She swallowed the bite in her mouth. “Nine forty-five a.m. The office is in town, so I can just meet you there.”

“No, I’ll pick you up,” I said.

“Gianni, that’s silly. It’s out of your way.”

“I don’t mind. I’ll be here at nine. Is that early enough?”

She sighed. “That’s fine. Come to the kitchen door.”

“Okay.” I left the tasting room with a stupid grin on my face. I wasn’t even sure what an ultrasound was, but knowing Ellie wanted me there, or at least that she didn’t mind my being there, felt like a win.





Of course, once I was sitting in the waiting room at the doctor’s office, I felt like it was the last place I belonged.

There were no other guys there, and the walls were covered with all this women’s stuff about breastfeeding and hormones and birth control. I absentmindedly picked up a pamphlet with a young girl on the front from the table next to me, and when I opened it up, there was this horrifyingly lifelike drawing of female anatomy staring me right in the face. At the top it said GET TO KNOW YOUR VAGINA. I slammed it shut and put it down.