Page 118 of All's Well that Friends Well
I plan on reading a lot of romance, though, and I’m not sure she’d like that. Maybe I’ll give her some time to cool down first.
As everyone trickles out of the kitchen, Luca stands up too. I hold out my hand, and he takes it naturally, as though we’ve been doing this for years. He slips his fingers through mine and squeezes, and together we head for the front door of the little house I rent with my sisters.
The evening air is balmy, more humid than Colorado usually sees, but it’s gorgeous all the same as our hands swing between us.
“He likes you,” I say as we drift slowly down the driveway.
“Who?” Luca says, letting out a skeptical snort of laughter. “Cyrus?”
“He does!” I insist. “If he didn’t, he would have been mean. But he was just abrasive and grumpy, and he didn’t get all up in your face or anything. That means he likes you.”
Luca’s lips twitch. “If you say so.”
“Also,” I say. “I’ve chosen next month’s read for our book club. Before I give you the title, I do need to remind you that you promised you wouldn’t complain.”
Luca stops in his tracks and looks at me with disconcertion. I can see myself reflected in his glasses,and behind that his dark eyes dart over my face. Then he sighs. “All right,” he says. “I promised. Let’s hear it.”
I struggle to swallow my laughter, because I know that face he’s making is only going to get worse. But it’s one I’ve been wanting to read, and I think it would be good for Luca to experience some warmth and human connection. So I tell him: “It’s calledA Vampire Sweetheart for the Farmer’s Daughter,and I’ve had my eye on it in the bookstore for a few months”—Luca groans, letting his head fall back—“and you’re going to love it, Luca. It’s going to be great,” I finish, tugging on his arm. “It’s going to be really really good. Soon you’ll be clamoring for every vampire romance you can get your hands on. And you’ll thank me for that, you know? So just trust me.”
Luca doesn’t move from where he’s standing, but he does tilt his head back up to look at me, one dark brow lifting. “I’m going to thank you, huh?”
“You will,” I say fervently. “You absolutely will.” I go up on my tiptoes and press a quick kiss to his lips, smiling as he wraps his arms around me.
“You’re trouble,” he says, tugging me closer. My laugh gets lost somewhere between his neck and his shoulder, or maybe it puffs against his collarbone. I just hug him back, reveling in the feelings he brings—security and warmth and protection. Safety not only from the world around me but also from judgment as I show him the deepest parts of myself.
“But the good kind of trouble,” I say, and I feel him nod.
“The best kind of trouble.” He presses a kiss to the top of my head, and when I laugh this time, the sound doesn’t make it out at all.
I think it must go straight to his heart.
LUCA || three years later
Observingthe Marigold sisters in their natural habitat—their parents’ house, and my old rental—is anexperience.
Like the cowards we are, Felix and I are hiding in the kitchen. It’s not that we don’t love our wives, but when the girls get together and ABBA starts playing, things get a little intense.
Felix has grown on me, mostly because he’s easy to like. As long as his arm isn’t around Juliet, I’m happy enough; he’s laid back with an easy laugh, and Jules clearly trusts him enough that I do too. I even get along with Cyrus, more or less, although there’s still some grumbling between him and the girls after what happened last year.
I’ve kept my mouth shut there. I’m not touching that situation with a ten-foot pole.
“Menfolk!” India calls from the living room, and faster than I can blink, Felix has rushed out of the kitchen, leaving a trail of nerves behind him. I don’t think he’s normallyso clingy with India, but as her due date has gotten closer and closer, he’s taken to following her wherever he can.
I make my way into the living room as well, drifting toward Jules without even thinking about it. She’s the first person my gaze seeks in any room; she’s my anchor in every sea I find myself floating. And she’s radiant this evening, beaming at India from where she sits cross-legged on the floor. I settle myself behind her, touching her hair for no reason other than that I want to. The early evening light streaming through the window turns the blonde into something almost luminescent, and her flouncy white dress is vibrant against her skin.
It’s the same dress she wore all those years ago on my birthday, waltzing around my kitchen in heels and an apron as she baked, and it’s my favorite of hers—matched only, perhaps, by the dress she wore when we got married last year.
The smile she turns on me, meanwhile, is the one I see every day—the one I dream about at night.
“Menfolk,” India says again. “It is your great honor this evening to join us for one last dance party before Baby Caine comes.” She pats her belly fondly and then looks up, smiling at me and Felix.
I’m not a dancer, and I’m not a partier, but I’m also not about to argue with a pregnant woman. So I muster up the best smile I have, even though it’s weak.
“Don’t worry,” Jules says, swiveling around to speak over her shoulder. She lowers her voice and whispers, “You can stand close to me and hold me in your arms.” She pauses and adds, “Or I could try to come up with a sexy belly dance or something.”
A smile unfurls over my lips, and I wrap my arms aroundher from behind. “I’ll just hold you in my arms,” I say. “Save the belly dance for when we get home.”
She laughs, the sound a little breathless. “Should I choreograph something?”
