Page 179 of Mafia And Maid
I clutch my stomach as tears gather in the corners of my eyes. Cate and Juliana’s laughter joins mine as we lounge in the backyard watching the kids go wild, trying and failing to climb onto the floaties in the pool.
Danio and Debi are both back from Italy and have joined us out here, as has Alessio. Alessio is currently trying to tame the beast, but much like the kids, having no luck. So far, the floatie has remained the champion.
“Where’s my phone when I need it?” Juliana snickers, searching her lounger. “Marco needs to see this.”
“You’d think they’d try a different tactic,” Cate says before sipping on her lemonade.
“You’d think a grown man would do better.” Debi laughs as she watches Alessio, clutching her stomach.
Juliana eyes me. “So…”
“So?” I parrot the tone, knowing exactly what they’ll ask me.
Despite the unease I felt with them to start, they’ve been nothing but welcoming, going so far as to even welcome Kori andKristopher to a few play dates. The utter joy that swells every time I think about having a family like this is surreal.
And that’s what they want to know about now. They’re asking about a certain tattooed man who’s swept me off my feet.
Things with Camillo and I are…perfect. Better than I ever thought I’d have in life. It’s not the sort of life I’d imagined, but it’s exactly what I need—and what Ethan needs.
“Do you know what Camillo’s up to?” I ask. We came out here with our drinks when he kicked us out of the kitchen.
“No.” Juliana shakes her head. “Just that it’s a surprise and not to come in until he says so.” She shares a look with Cate and Debi.
“Do you all know something?”
“What?” Debi says with an air of innocence.
“No,” Juliana adds with too much emphasis as she goes back to watching Alessio and Danio playing with the kids in the pool.
“You totally do know something…”
But they busy themselves with their drinks and phones. I take a long sip of my iced tea before pursing my lips.
“Rosa?” Over an hour later, some time after the kids and guys have left the pool and started a game of baseball, I hear my name called. Turning to see Camillo, I bite my lip to keep from laughing. Camillo’s black T-shirt is covered in white powder, and a streak of it is marring his hair and cheek. The apron around his waist is also covered with splotches of colors.
Juliana and Cate are not so polite. Their laughter fills the yard, and Camillo ducks his head a little, scowling as his cheeks stain with color.
“What happened to your shirt?” I ask.
“What?” His head snaps up. “Oh this? Um, nothing. Will you, uh, come to the kitchen?”
I slide from the lounger, adjusting my cover up as I go. While I might have made big strides in conquering the damage done with my eating habits, there’s still a lot of work to do—it’s an ongoing journey and one which Camillo is helping me with every step of the way.
Camillo’s gaze eats me up, and I catch his tongue swipe over his bottom lip. I flush, knowing exactly where his mind is going. Like most mornings, Camillo started the day with what he calls his favorite meal. The wicked things this man can do with this tongue never cease toamaze me. And the fact that he demands it be done with me on top of him sends my body shivering.
Lacing my fingers with his, he guides me toward the kitchen. The smell of freshly baked lemon cake wafts around me, making my mouth water.
The ugly voices in the back of my head tell me I shouldn’t want it, but I push them away. One cupcake isn’t going to kill me. Anyway, Camillo will certainly make me work off any negative effects later.
I smile at him, squeezing his hand.
Then, as we turn the corner into the kitchen, my jaw drops.
And I stop in my tracks as I take in the sight before me.
The door to the fridge is wide open. The counters are covered in white powder—flour, or sugar, or both. Batter drips from the edge of the island onto the floor. Bowls, whisks, and God knows what else are piled high in the sink. It looks like a bomb went off.
“Jesus…” I mutter. “What happened in here?”