Real Fake Love (Copper Valley Fireballs #2)(13)

I almost recoil at the unexpected touch, except I can’t, because Nonna needs to believe this.

Also, I need to put some clothes on.

Henri needs to put some clothes on.

I need to catch up real quick on why Henri’s hugging me, but first, I need to be grateful.

Except Nonna is not impressed.

“Luca, are you going to introduce me to your guest?”

Gone is TikTok Nonna with a sparkle in her eye and a groove in her step, and in her place is the formidable head of an Italian crime organization.

Not that we’re into crime in our family. It’s more that she can channel it.

“Henri, this is Nonna. My grandmother. Nonna, this is Henri.”

Henri claps her hands. “Oh my gosh! This is the best. Hi, Nonna. I love your hair.”

Crime Boss Nonna doesn’t take the bait. “What are your intentions toward my grandson?”

“She’s—” I start, but Henri suddenly squeals.

“I know you! You’re TikTok Nonna! Luca. You didn’t tell me you were related to TikTok Nonna!” She swats playfully at my arm. “And I even wore my TikTok Nonna shirt yesterday, and you didn’t say a word.”

“Considering how much you haven’t enjoyed meeting the rest of my family…”

“She’s met your parents?” Nonna’s bright eyes dart to mine. Then back to Henri, whose smile has faltered, but who’s now gazing at me with the same calculated look Nonna was wearing a minute ago.

Babe Ruth on a bundt cake, does every woman secretly aspire to be a mob boss?

“Just his mom,” Henri answers smoothly.

I swallow hard. My life is about to spiral out of control. “Mom was…an unexpected participant in breaking up Henri’s wedding earlier this summer.”

Henri digs a nail into my hip while her grip around my waist tightens. “Luca and I bonded over the wedding cake while he comforted me afterwards. He was such a gentleman about the whole thing, so I came out here to thank him once I’d collected myself, and one thing led to another, and now…”

She shrugs.

“Like I said,” I tell Nonna, unsure if I’m supposed to be grateful or terrified that Henri’s riding out this lie with me. “It’s awkward.”

Henri tilts her head against my chest. She smells like imitation coconut and sweat, and it’s warm enough in the kitchen that her cheek is now stuck to my bare skin, and that’s gonna make a noise when we separate.

“Hm.” Nonna’s gaze flits between us while she picks up the family heirloom casserole dish and carries it to my oven. “Good thing you have a guest room then.”

My blood runs cold. “For…?”

“For me to move into. Henri, dear, you’re going to need all the help you can get with this one. He’s stubborn as a mule.”

“Nonna—”

“Oh my gosh, that’s so sweet of you!” Henri peels herself off me—and yeah, there’s some stretching skin, because I don’t have a working air conditioner, and the oven’s heating up now, which means we’ll all be roasted like a chicken dinner within about ten minutes—and she launches herself at Nonna. “I’ll have to clear my things out. Luca’s been so kind, letting me use his guest bedroom as my office. I mean, I guess I can work in the living room…?”

Holy.

Fucking.

Shit.

She’s in love with me.

She thinks this is real.

Is she the kind of woman who’ll buy her own wedding ring and plan the whole wedding and then expect me to show up?

Better question—will it cost me my endorsement deals when the world buys into the crazy and believes that I’m the sixth guy who’s jilted her?

Is this gonna cost me an endorsement deal?

I need to call my agent.

And maybe my lawyer.

And probably the cops.

Or maybe a few teammates. Maybe she can fall in love with Robinson instead. Maybe it’s not too late.

“Luca? Honey, do you need to sit down?”

I grab a glass, turn to the sink, wrench on the faucet, and a stream of water explodes out of the handle, spraying all of us.

Including the ziti.

And now I’m wondering if it’s my grandmother or the ziti that gives The Eye, but I don’t have to wonder for long.

Because no matter what, I’m fucked.





6





Henri



It’s a good thing I’m off love, because water all over Luca Rossi’s tight muscles and golden skin, with him in nothing but black boxer-briefs first thing in the morning is enough to give a girl some ideas.

Lust.

I can totally be in lust.

Who wouldn’t be in lust with that backside?

He’s bent over under the sink to turn off the water, which feels dang good soaking my clothes and face and hair—and yes, my cat totally agrees. She’s lying on the floor, on her back, letting the water rain all over her while I try to angle in to ask Luca if I can help.

With anything.

Not only is his sink exploding, but either the air conditioner is broken, or Luca’s the devil and likes it really, really hot.

Lust is making me forgive a lot right now. Not that I have any right to be the forgiver—I did invade his home—but this morning, it appears I might have something he needs too.