When It Falls Apart (The D'Angelos, #1)(56)

“You were groomed to take over the restaurant.”

He shrugged. “I’m the oldest.”

“You could have said no.”

“Don’t look so glum. I didn’t want to. I like tradition and family. Having a foundation for my daughter. How many people have that these days? In this country? How many family businesses die in one generation? My grandfather built this, passed it to my parents, and it will be passed on to me and my brother and sister.”

“Do you see Giovanni and Chloe being an active part of D’Angelo’s forever?”

“Forever is a long time. Gio thrives in wine. His place is on a vineyard. Maybe he returns to Tuscany . . . perhaps he finds land an hour north and builds his name in Temecula. But he always has a place here. And Chloe . . .”

“Chloe has other ideas.”

Luca reached out and grasped Brooke’s hand. “My sister is wise to know she wants something different.”

Brooke squeezed his fingers in hers, felt the safety of his touch. “Do you bring Francesca into the kitchen with you?”

His smile wavered. “No.”

That surprised her. “Why not?”

“I’m waiting for her to ask.” Luca looked out over the bay.

“To give her a choice.” Brooke’s heart melted just a little bit more for the man sitting across from her.

Luca gave a single nod.

“I may not feel a burden for what I’ve taken on. There is no guarantee my daughter won’t.”

“You’re a good man, Luca.”

He brought their joined hands to his lips, kissed her fingers. “Are you finished?”

She looked at her empty coffee cup with a nod.

They walked along the outside of the restaurant with other couples enjoying the bright lights of the city reflecting off the water and the romantic aura in the air.

“I really do love this city,” Brooke told him. “Where else can you walk around in a sweater in late spring and not feel cold?”

“Do you miss Seattle?”

“Not at all,” she said without hesitation. “I miss Carmen. But we talk all the time. There’s a couple of other friends I used to hang out with. But their families keep them busy, and when you don’t have kids of your own, they tend to fade off. Carmen is the only one that didn’t change our friendship after she had Ben.”

They stopped to look at the lights of the city.

Luca placed an arm around her shoulders. “Do you want children?” he asked.

Brooke knew he’d ask the question at some point. “I do.”

He pulled her close and kissed the side of her head.

She hated that she felt the need to ruin a beautiful night with reality, but it wasn’t fair to him if she didn’t start with the honesty he deserved.

“I think I should tell you something.” She felt her body stiffen.

“Okay.”

She took a deep breath.

Couldn’t find the words.

“Whatever it is, bella, it’s all right.”

Deep breath in.

Slow breath out.

“I don’t know if I can have kids.”

Luca was silent.

“Two months before my father had his stroke, I had a miscarriage.”

Luca tightened his hold on her. “Oh, cara.”

“The hurt was so deep in my soul.” She pressed her fist to her heart. “I can’t describe it. And then . . .” The next part was worse . . . somehow.

He turned her toward him, placed both hands on the sides of her face. “It doesn’t matter.”

“But it does. Marshall proved in those moments that he didn’t want to be a father. I’ve stayed on birth control just in case. And once I realized things were never going to work with him, I was thankful.” She lowered her eyes. “I feel like such an awful person for even thinking that.”

Luca’s fingertips raised her chin to meet his eyes. “Look at me, amore. You are not an awful person. You’re human.”

The care in his eyes ripped her open. “What if that was it? What if that was my only chance of having a child? What then?”

“Did the doctors say that?”

She shook her head. “I hardly remember anything they said.”

His arms wrapped around her and held on. “Things happen for a reason. I believe that. Even the hard things that want to destroy us.”

Brooke held on. “I just think you should know. Before things get to be . . . more, between us.”

His chest shook with a small laugh.

In that moment, insecurity rose and bit her in the ass.

She inched away from him. The last thing Brooke needed was a casual fling that everyone in Little Italy would talk about once it was over.

“Cara?”

She looked him dead in the eye. “If this is casual for you, I need to know right now. I’m not asking for tomorrows. I’m not asking for commitment. I just need to know if you’re going into this thinking only of right now.”

Luca kept one hand on her arm and placed the other on the railing they were standing beside.

“You’re like French bread,” he told her.

“What?”

“A hard shell on the outside with soft, delicious goodness inside. No, cara. If you were casual, my family would know nothing about you and me. There would be no neighborhood gossip to squelch. I, too, am not ready to make promises, but I am willing to explore what we’ve started.”