When It Falls Apart (The D'Angelos, #1)(45)



With his lips close to her ear, he said, “Can I compliment your beauty now?”

The cool night air instantly heated, and for a moment, it was just the two of them at the crowded family dinner.





CHAPTER FIFTEEN


Brooke walked quietly down the stairs, past the apartments of everyone else in the building, and onto the ground floor.

It was early.

The sun barely up early.

Her hair was in a ponytail, she wore shorts and a tank with a sweater tossed on to ward off the morning chill in San Diego that wouldn’t be there when she made it to Upland.

She let herself out the back door and stopped short when she looked across the parking lot.

Luca stood behind his SUV with two cups in his hands and a smile.

“Good morning, bella.”

“What are you doing?” Not only up, but awake and showered from the looks of it. His hair still a bit damp.

“Taking you to Upland.” He walked to her, grabbed the bag from her hand, and handed her what smelled like coffee.

“Excuse me?”

“Your list for today sounded as if it would take three to get through. I would only worry that you’d attempt to drive after doing it all, and since I’m not a fan of unwanted stress, I decided to help.”

“Excuse me?” Didn’t he have better things to do? And since when did a man she hardly knew volunteer to do the dirty work?

“You don’t want my help?” he asked, looking like a wounded puppy.

“I didn’t say that.”

Luca winked, moved to the passenger door of his car. “I’ll drive. My car has more room for the crap, as you called it, that you need to bring back.”

She hesitated at the door. “Are you sure, Luca? It’s going to be a filthy day. I’m tackling the garage and the oldest of the old files. Painting . . .”

“An honest day’s work.”

Brooke jumped into the passenger seat. “I’m not a fool. But I warned you.”

“You have done that.”

The streets in San Diego were quiet this early in the morning. “Make your way to the 15 and we won’t get off until we reach the 10.”

“You got it.”

She snuggled into her seat, sipped the coffee. “I can give you money for gas.”

Luca glanced over at her, then back out the windshield.

“I’ll take that as a no.”

“Friends don’t offer help with a price tag.”

She thought of Marshall. “Some don’t offer to help at all.”

“We call those acquaintances.”

“Ha! Or exes.”

Luca looked over his shoulder, changed lanes. “The boyfriend.”

“Ex-boyfriend, thank you.”

“He didn’t help you?”

Brooke cautioned herself about opening up about an ex. “You don’t really want to hear about Marshall.”

“Actually, I do.”

Was he serious?

“Why?”

Luca shrugged. “I want to know about the man who held your heart.”

“Who said he held my heart?”

“You didn’t love him?”

Wow, talk about right to the personal questions. “Did you love Antonia?”

Luca did a quick look her way, then back out the windshield. “Who told you about Antonia?”

“Chloe. But only that she was Francesca’s mother. She didn’t give a single detail.”

He grinned. “But you asked.”

“Guilty.”

“Hmm . . .”

They were quiet for a moment.

Brooke sipped her coffee.

Luca reached for his.

“Tell you what,” Brooke said. “We answer question for question, Marshall for Antonia. If it gets uncomfortable, we change the subject.”

She wasn’t sure Luca was going to agree.

“It’s a long drive. We could just listen to the radio,” Brooke suggested as she reached for the sound system.

“Fine.”

She sat back. Yeah, he wasn’t fine. She’d give him the first question. “You go first.”

“Did you love him?”

Brooke had thought about that a lot since they broke it off. Was it love? Infatuation? Settling? “I convinced myself I did. I cared for him. He didn’t throw the word love around often and neither did I. I just figured we were the kind of couple that didn’t talk like that. You know?”

“No, cara, I don’t. Unless the feeling wasn’t there.”

Yeah, that was the conclusion she’d come up with in his absence. “What about you? Did you love Antonia?”

“Yes.”

The answer was quick and direct.

No hesitation whatsoever.

And it hurt Brooke to hear. But the next question was the real risk. “Do you still love her?”

“No.”

Just as quick and decisive.

He sighed. “I’m not so cold. I love that she gave me my daughter. I will always be grateful for that. And if she were a mother as well, truly a mother, I might bring myself to care.”

“How long has she been gone?”

He grinned. “That’s three questions to one of mine.”

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