It takes us a few hours to move all my belongings out of my father’s house the following day. Saint and I both took the end of the week off work while recovering, so he was adamant to help me move out and into his house instead. And when I say adamant I mean to not make me pick up a single thing because of my fractured wrist, so I’m playing supervisor.
We laugh over the ridiculous things we find in my closet, and he can’t stop teasing me about all the floral sundresses I have. We joke how I’m like that girl in Seinfeld that Jerry once dated who every time he saw her she always wore the same black and white dress, even in photographs he picked up in her apartment. I love how Jerry was convinced she either had a daily wash cycle, a never-ending supply of those dresses or really was a female superman with strict attire. At least my sundresses are of different colors and styles!
Of course Saint winks over at me as he casually picks up my nightstand as if it’s nothing, his toned biceps tensing at the action. “You better believe I’m bringing this across with caution. It’s got gold in it, remember?”
I throw my head back in laughter. “Don’t tell me you’re talking about my vibrator…”
“Oh, I’m definitely talking about that, baby. Not that you’ll be needing it anymore because somehow I’m fortunate enough to wake up in bed beside you for the rest of my life.”
“Aww.” I smile, kissing his lips before he steps out of my bedroom. “Now, hurry! There are still a couple of things to move across before my dad comes back from his shift. Pretty sure he made it clear to me yesterday that he doesn’t want to see my face when he comes back.”
Saint says something under his breath in Italian and I can’t help but giggle when all he does is smirk. We finish up clearing my room and all my possessions just after 11:00 a.m. The last thing we do is strip the sheets and leave my bed in the room, seeing as I don’t have any use for it at Saint’s.
The aftershocks of everything that happened yesterday are still circling my mind, but the tension isn’t there like before. Now when I think of my dad’s words and how he doesn’t accept Saint and me as a couple, it doesn’t even faze me. It brings me comfort to know Saint and I did everything we could to make my father understand how we feel for each other. Now it’s up to him.
Of course I’m going to miss my dad. There’s no doubt about that. He’s my father after all and he brought me up all by himself alongside my nana until she passed. I love him to bits, but I need this happiness in my life to keep me going, and Saint makes me happy…
So damn happy.
It takes us under an hour to set up my items in Saint’s house. I only have a huge wall mirror, my nightstand, bookshelf, desk, swivel chair, and then a countless number of books, clothes, and other possessions. What takes the most time is placing all my clothes in his closet in his bedroom, mainly because I’m a neat freak and want them in color order, which I love how much is driving him crazy considering he just put a white dress and a red dress together, as if there are no colors in-between them.
“I’m really enjoying playing house with you.” I smile over at him as we walk down the stairs and to his open plan kitchen.
“We aren’t just playing house. This is your home, babydoll. Always has been. Always will be. This is where you belong.”
Aww.
My heart squeezes at the words. This is where you belong.
The look on Saint’s face is priceless when I place my birth control in the kitchen pantry. “Oh, hi there.” He winks.
“Oh my gosh! Shut up, Santooo!” I laugh, playfully shoving his chest with the hand that isn’t in a cast. “Now that we live together, please don’t tell me you’re going to say that every morning when I take one.”
“Of course not.” He smirks, pulling me to his side as he brings his lips to my ear. “I won’t say it when you’re barefoot and pregnant and looking like a goddamn goddess.”
“Yeah, that’s only because I won’t be needing them then!”
Saint winks at me for the third time this morning. “Exactly.”
“So, the entire world knows you’re dating Mr. Hot-and-sexy-former-professional-boxer Saint Lisconti thanks to the news and TMZ, and I still don’t know shit!” Maralyn picks up her coffee cup from the white oak café table and gestures it to me. “Speak now, woman.” She smirks, holding it by her lips. “Or you shall forever not hold your peace.”
Smiling, I take a sip of my delicious coffee before setting it down on the table. We’re at the little bakery across the road from the florist that Maralyn’s always raving about. It’s a chic cozy place with exposed brick walls, white oak tables, and white Italian terrazzo tiled floors. It’s simply stunning! The low chatter of diners and soft jazz music playing in the background is so therapeutic and warm.
Although I’m taking the rest of the week off work, Maralyn usually has a break in the afternoons on Friday, so it’s been nice catching up for some coffee after setting up my things at Saint’s this morning and making some nice lunch together in his kitchen for the first day of the rest of our lives together.
While I’m spending some time with Maralyn now, Saint had to stop by his Fitness Studio to talk to Nico. We had to take an Uber together considering we don’t have a car between us anymore. I used to use my dad’s car. Saint’s Maserati was ruined beyond repair yesterday and going around with his Harley while we’re still a little beaten up definitely isn’t a good move. While the predicament we’re in isn’t ideal, we’re trying to see the bright side of it. Saint knows a few guys at different car dealerships and called them up this morning, mentioning something about a few of the models they have available. So, Saint’s going to head there after going to the Fitness Studio before picking me up from the café… hopefully in his new purchase!
“You’re right. I definitely have some explaining to do. Okay, uh, where would you like me to start?”
Maralyn looks at me as if I’m crazy. “From the beginning, girl!”
I laugh and for the next half hour explain everything between Saint and me, from how we met, through all the hardships along the way, up until me moving in with him this morning. The only thing I do leave out is going too much into detail with everything to do with Lea/my mom. I know it’s quite personal for Saint. He’s never mentioned Lea to anybody other than the people closest to him, and while it turns out she’s my mom, I still want to respect Saint and respect the rawness that we’re still living in.
Maralyn goes from laughing at the fact he stepped on my flowers to gasping at the day I found him with a Swiss Army Knife close to hurting an employee in his backyard. She’s crying when we get to the part where I tell her just how supportive Saint has been of me. Like the day at the cemetery where he eased my fears, where he told me to forget everything you think you are because you are everything you think you are not. She’s swooning at the part where he not so anonymously bought me a cupcake for my eighteenth, and the day Saint caught me gawking at him at the beach, and then how things between us were never quite the same after I admitted I couldn’t stop thinking about him.
I tell Maralyn about it all. The stolen glances. The deep emotional connection. The angsty physical attraction. The forbidden of being in love with an older man, who also happened to be my father’s best friend. The confessions. The getaway to Stinson beach. The kisses. The passion. The mind-blowing sex. The Harley rides. The poetry I wrote him. The amount of openness and honesty in our relationship. The love yous. The cowboy boots. The crash. The talks of Saint moving to Seattle with me and our eagerness to live together there. The blow-out argument when my dad found out. The revelation of my true mother and my newfound half-sister, Alexis. The conversations about children and a family one day.
I wrap up telling Maralyn about how this morning I moved into his house, and she stares back at me with her arms crossed over her chest and the biggest smirk I’ve ever seen on her lips. “All I’ve got to say is, I need to be a bridesmaid at this wedding!”
“Maralyn!” I giggle, shaking my head to myself as her smirk grows. “Marriage is going to be a long time away, trust me. There’s going to be some adjusting to do once we get to Seattle and between me starting college and finding a job, and Saint starting up his fitness studio there, we’ll probably—”
She cuts me off before I can finish. “You know all I’m hearing right now?”
“What?”
“Blah, blah, blah! That’s all I’m hearing! Girl, from everything you’ve just said I can tell how much Saint loves you, and you love him. And I mean l–o–v–e. It seems as though that hella sexy man of yours was a cold, closed-up beast and then he met you and became a better man. Now, he’s romantic and sweet and so vulnerable, which is amazing. It’s so rare for men to open up like Saint does to you.”
“You really think it’s that rare?”
“Uh, YESSS!” Maralyn squeals, diving her spoon into her blueberry cheesecake. “It shows just how great of a man he is and how he emotionally cares, alongside all the great sex. It’s so, so rare to get the best of both worlds like you do. I mean, take my damn husband for example. Whenever he’s got something to say he keeps it all pent-up inside and I hate it. Your relationship with Saint seems like it has so much transparency and trust and passion, and that’s exactly what you need to make it work. That man adores you, Paisley. I wouldn’t be surprised if he proposes like tomorrow. I mean it!”
Marriage. Marrying Santo.
Becoming Mrs. Santo Lisconti.
I can’t help but smile. “As much as I love that idea, it’s a little too soon, don’t you think?”
“NO, GIRL! It’s never too soon when you know you found the one! Men like him won’t waste a second when they know what they want, and Saint? He definitely knows what he wants—You.”
I grin across the table at Maralyn and take another sip of coffee. My heart is beating so crazily fast because hearing her say all these things makes me even more happy with how close Saint and I are. We’re unstoppable.
“Maybe not tomorrow, but you’re right… Saint’s a pretty great guy. I’m lucky to have him.”
“He’s lucky to have you.” She winks. “I mean, look at you, you’re so beautiful.”
Eyes wide, I gesture toward my face. “Oh please, I look like an extra in one of those cult zombie apocalypse movies. Still all bruised from the crash, my hair is like a bird’s nest waiting to happen. I have no makeup and I’m still a little loopy from all the medication I was on at the hospital yesterday. Besides, this”—I raise up my fractured wrist and nod toward the cast on my lower arm and wrist—“definitely isn’t beautiful.”
“Surrre, I bet that’s not what Saint said when you two were most likely going at it after you were both discharged from hospital last night. Or again early this morning before all the moving in.”
Mid-laughter, my jaw drops. “Maralyn! Jesus!”
“What?” The smirk doesn’t fall from her lips as she arches a suggestive brow. “I’m right, aren’t I?”
I feel my cheeks heat, a dead giveaway that she’s onto something. “I will neither confirm or deny… ANYWAY! Let’s talk about you! How are you surviving without me at the florist?”
“Oh no, no, no. Deflection isn’t going to work with me, honey. Today is all about you and your lover boy.” Maralyn grins, reaching out her hand across the table, and clasps mine. “Also, I just wanted to say I’m so proud of you, Paisley. I know you’ve had a tough life, and it hasn’t been perfect. You’ve been through a lot at eighteen and oftentimes, you’re like the daughter I never had. I’m just so proud of how far you’ve come. When I first met you, you were so reserved and a shell of the woman you are today. You’re confident. Fierce. Not afraid to get hurt when it comes to what you love, and your courage inspires me every day. It truly does.”
“Maralyn,” I breathe, a smile on my lips as emotion floods my throat. “Gosh, that’s so sweet. Thank you so much. I really do appreciate you and during this year have really seen you as so much more than a boss. You’re my friend. My mentor. My pseudo mom. I’m going to miss you so much when I leave for Seattle, but we’ll stay in touch. I know we will.”
“Oh God, Seattle. Why did you have to bring that up? Great, now I’m going to ruin my mascara for sure.” Maralyn sniffles, her eyes glassing over. Squeezing our intertwined hands, she picks up her napkin with the other and dabs the corner of her eyes, trying to compose herself before the tears flow. Her nose becomes flushed as she shakes her head and glances back at me with a brave smile, sentiment written all over her face. “I’m going to miss you too, Paisley. You’re such a lovely and inspiring friend. I’m so fortunate to see you really turn into a strong woman during these past few months. We definitely have to call every day, okay every week, and make a promise to catch up a few times a year. That has to happen.”
“I’ve already scheduled it down.” I giggle, sniffling away my own impending tears.
God, I’m going to miss her so much.
It’s so bittersweet because as much as I love my life here in Sacramento, I crave searching for something new and I feel it in my gut that Seattle will provide that for me.
“Good! Besides, who else am I going to talk about my idiot husband to now?”
That brightens up the mood and we start laughing through our tears. It feels so nice being able to relate and spend time with somebody who understands you so much. I’m super introverted, while Maralyn’s the biggest extrovert I know, but for some reason our friendship just works, and I value it so much.
“Well, I still have the rest of June and July working with you, so I look forward to all the stories for the next six weeks or so!”
“Thank God!” Maralyn breathes out a sigh of relief, and we laugh again after that.
Our hands slip away, and she reaches for her cup of coffee, her bold red lipstick staining the white cup when she sets it back down. She claps her hands together. “So, let’s talk about everything to do with Lea actually being your mom! I bet that was the greatest shock of your life!”
“Very much so. I didn’t expect that at all and neither did Saint, seeing as he didn’t know a thing. I became super overwhelmed and basically trapped myself in the hospital bathroom. I kind of regret that I acted like that, but at the time I couldn’t think of anything else. But when I was in there, I realized it was all fate and that I love Saint more than anything and we could battle through this too. Plus, in a way it gives me a little comfort knowing my mom trusted him too before she lost that piece of herself. I feel close to her when I’m with Saint, and that gives me some closure. All the questions I had have been answered, and that’s all I really wanted.”
“That’s such a beautiful way to put it. I love that it didn’t eat away at you completely. From what you said earlier, Saint thought you were going to leave him based on the discovery. It was brave of you to persevere, to explain to him how much you truly need him and how it doesn’t change anything for you.”
I smile into my coffee, the cocoa brown liquid swirling as I move the cup around. “Yeah, to be honest I’m proud of myself too. I’m just happy my head managed to not explode when it turns out the daughter of the man that hit Saint and me yesterday was my half-sister… Alexis.”
“I know, right! I swear if that was me and I found out I had a half-sister on top of everything that happened to you yesterday, my head would have exploded and landed on Brad Pitt’s front door… it’s not necessarily classy, but I swear that’s what would have happened…”
I cover my mouth to muffle the laughter that escapes. Maralyn is something else!
“I’m just so glad you’re safe, hon,” she continues. “What they’re showing on the news is terrible. Feel sorry for the other family too, but that asshole shouldn’t have been driving! Ugh! Things like that really hit a nerve. Anyway, what’s Alexis like? How are you feeling about all that?”
Swallowing my last drop of coffee, I glance back up at Maralyn. “You want to know honestly what I feel?”
“Yes, no filters. Just say it.”
“Happy.” The biggest smile breaks out on my lips. “When Alexis and I embraced… it was as if I found that final piece of myself I always knew was missing. It just all made sense.”
We spent the next two hours talking about anything and everything. Maralyn tells me about a few stories from her time living in New York and it feels so nice to unwind with her. We just get served our second cups of coffee when we’re disturbed by the rumbling purr of a passing car. Seeing as Maralyn and I are sitting by the large exterior picture window, we casually glance out of it and a gasp escapes Maralyn at the gorgeous sleek black Lamborghini that slows and pulls into the parking spot right in front of the café. The windows are tinted, and every feature is immaculate.
Wow.
“Holy smokes! I’d stop eating muffins for an entire month for that car!”
“Not just a month, a whole year!” My mouth waters at the Italian beauty. “It’s stunning!”
“Yes, and sexy! Sexy is what that car is! I need to call my attorney and get divorced in the next two seconds because I’d happily remarry the person who steps out of that car.”
As if on cue, the driver’s side door opens upward and the moment dark leather biker boots hit the pavement, my jaw drops. Oh. My. God. No, he didn’t. I slowly eye the beautiful man I know and love as he steps out of his Lamborghini. Oh yes, he did!
“Oh my God, it’s Saint!”
Maralyn gasps and slams a hand to her heart. “Oh, shit. Lord forgive me. Sorry, Paisley, just ignore what I said before about that remarrying thing, you lucky bitch!”
I giggle as I turn back to the window, watching as Saint steps by his Lamborghini and rakes a hand through his longish dark hair. Dark gray T-shirt. Black denim jeans. Perfectly stubbled beard. Saint looks like a beautiful yet rough Italian wonderland. The gorgeous dark sleeve tattoo that runs down his left arm, complementing his naturally lightly tan olive skin.
Hmmm. My blue-eyed boy is definitely a looker.
Glancing up at the sign of the café, he leans back against his Lamborghini and pulls out his phone from his jeans pocket as the car door closes.
My phone buzzes on the table half a second later.
SAINT: I’m here, tesoro. x
A second text comes through.
SAINT: Can I come in or will Maralyn kill me?
Laughing, I show Maralyn the text. “Saint wants to know if you’re playing nice?”
“I always play nice.” She winks. “Tell him to come inside. My claws aren’t sharpened.”
PAISLEY: You’re in luck, she says her claws aren’t sharpened today. Come in! x
A smirk rises on those beautiful lips of his and he replies.
SAINT: Hmm, let’s see about that… Coming in now, baby. xx
“Saint’s coming in,” I tell Maralyn as I set my phone back on the table and smile up at her. “For some reason he thinks you’re going to bury him alive…”
“Of course I am. Going to give him the perfect grilling, just so I see him stress under pressure. I’m only joking!” Maralyn grins. “I’m not going to scare the poor guy. He’s already proven himself to be good, and that’s all I’ve ever wanted for you, honey.”
“I’m glad to have you as a friend, babe, truly.”
“I feel exactly the same way.”
I turn my head toward the door as Saint steps inside the café, sexily slipping off his aviator sunglasses and folding them at the collar of his dark T-shirt. He’s so tall and fit… mine. That’s all I think as I smirk to myself as a group of women seated at one of the booths hungrily glance up at Saint and begin ogling him. He doesn’t even notice them. All mine.
Those ocean blue eyes I love scan the room until they meet my gaze and instantly brighten, filling with such an abundance of passion as I wave him over with my good hand. Grinning, Saint’s by our table in seconds, respectfully holding out his hand toward Maralyn as he slips into the seat beside me. “Hi, I’m Saint! Saint Lisconti. Paisley’s boyfriend. You must be Maralyn! It’s nice to meet you and finally put a name to the face!”
“Is the face better than you expected? Say yes because I need a compliment today.”
Saint cutely glances over at me, almost for backup. “Uhm…”
I can’t take how genuinely nervous he looks right now. My bello.
Snickering, I nod at him. “Just say yes, she loves playing games with people’s heads.”
Maralyn puts a hand to the side of her mouth as if she’s telling a secret. “That’s true. Husband would even say it’s my specialty.”
We all laugh, and Saint’s mid-chuckle as he shakes hands with Maralyn and says, “Well, if you ask Paisley, she knows I don’t generally stick to the rules. Sooo, I’m going to say the face is simply meravigliosa. Wonderful.”
Maralyn’s eyes almost turn heart-shaped as she puts a hand to her chest. “Dear Lord, as if you couldn’t get any more perfect! That Italian is just wow…” She turns to me. “Um, excuse me, but how the hell are you not melted on the floor already, Paisley? The man has gorgeous dimples, speaks Italian, owns a Lamborghini. To be honest, I think you should be the one who proposes to him!”
Oh my God!
The laughter continues.
Saint sets my injured hand on his lap, his thumb brushing over the cast as he glances between us and says, “What I love about Paisley most is she overlooked all that. Whether it be on an emotional level or everything else in between… she just wants me for me, and that’s all I care about.”
Aww.
“Sooo…” Maralyn grins, leaning her head on her hand. “When’s the proposal?”
Smiling, I nudge my boyfriend. “Don’t mind her, she’s been asking all day…”
But it doesn’t bother Saint and he full-on smirks at us both with wiggly brows. “Sooner than you may think.”
My breaths go crazy wild.
Sooner than you may think…
“What?” I grin, my jaw slightly dropping open in awe. “First time I’m hearing this.”
“Then it definitely won’t be the last.” Saint winks and with that leans toward me. “Hi there, beautiful,” he sexily murmurs, then his lips are on mine, kissing me softly with just enough sensuality to make me know he meant every word. We pull away, smiling. “Coffee. Now I want one too.”
I feel my cheeks flush from the kiss as I swipe my tongue along my lower lip and catch Maralyn, who hasn’t stopped smirking at us.
Her gaze says it all, ‘Marry this man!’
In seconds she slides her loyalty card across the white oak table to Saint. “Here, buy one with this. I’m up to the reward of having a free coffee, so you can get one for yourself.”
Saint kindly slides it back. “Thanks, but I’ll get one myself. Treat yourself when the time comes.”
“Damn.” She gasps. “It’s like I’m looking into the reflection of the antonym of my husband. He would have claimed that free coffee so fast…”
Saint waves over the server in seconds.
The server smiles at us and pulls out a little notepad and pen from his beige apron. “Hey there, how can I help?”
“I’ll have one double macchiato. Thanks, man.” Saint then turns toward us. “Would you two like anything? It’s on me.”
“No, thanks.” Maralyn smiles, standing up from her seat. “I’m just going to head to the ladies’ room. Be back in a minute.”
As she leaves, Saint continues gazing at me. “Want another coffee or something like that, baby?”
I shake my head softly and smile. “No, thanks, I’m onto my second.”
Saint gestures to the server that that’s all before turning back to me with dramatically widened eyes. “Only onto your second? I literally have five coffees a day. That can’t be an excuse, baby.”
“Oh God.”
He grins and softly cups my face. “See what you’re living with?”
“An Italian beast.”
“Mhmmm, try again.”
“A beautiful Italian beast.”
“That’s more like it,” Saint whispers and pulls me closer before kissing me again. This time for much longer and much more intense, as if we were alone. I kiss him back hard, loving the groan that escapes his throat the second our tongues collide in steady, passionate rhythms. He pulls back with another satisfied groan. “Been waiting hours to do that. You like our new car?”
I raise a playful brow. “Our?”
“Mhmmm, what’s mine is yours.”
“Oh, is that how it is now?”
“Damn straight.”
“I love it.” I grin. “It’s very sleek. Very sexy. Very you.”
“Mmhmmm.” Saint smirks. “Looking forward to taking you on a ride in it.”
Picking up my coffee, I fail at hiding my smirk too as I speak over the cup. “Yeah, I’m definitely not walking into that double meaning.”
Saint smugly winks.
Definitely walked into it already…
It’s hard to believe that this time yesterday our lives were about to change forever. I’m just so happy he’s right here beside me. Happy to be Saint’s. Happy to call him home.
“So Maralyn’s quite the character, huh?” he says.
“I thought you’d like her.”
“I do. She’s pretty cool. I can tell you’ll miss her when we move to Seattle.”
I frown just thinking about it. “Dearly.”
“Well, it’s a good thing I just bought a fucking fast car. We’ll get from Seattle to Sacramento in no time!”
“Yeah, right, because the eleven-hour drive is totally a fast one!”
“Just like I said, not in no time…” Saint repeats, his smirk only deepening, and I burst out laughing as the solace of his arms pulls me closer to him. “Okay, maybe you’re right, babydoll. But in other news,” he murmurs in my ear, “I’ve got a little surprise to cheer you up…”
Oh wow.
“A surprise?”
“Mmhmmm.”
“Not another pair of cowboy boots, is it?” I tease. “Even though you know how much I love them, it’s just that they didn’t bring us much luck considering the events of yesterday.”
“Dio, I couldn’t agree more.” Saint starts chuckling and shakes his head. “As hot as you looked in them, and I mean so hot I wanted to put you in every position, I don’t want to see another pair of cowboy boots in my life…”
“So, what’s the surprise? Show me!” I beam.
“Patience, woman.” He chuckles. “I want to show you later on tonight. After dinner.”
“Oh no, Santo Lisconti, what did you do?”
Saint grins. “You’ll see, my wildflower.”
“Why are you so nervous?” Saint chuckles beside me on the couch, looking so cute with the rejuvenating face masks we both just applied while dinner is cooking. After coffee with Maralyn, Saint and I bought some groceries and started to prep dinner—Saint’s apparent signature fettuccine with Alfredo sauce and roasted vegetables and seasoned roasted potatoes.
The only hiccup was when we arrived home, my father was stepping out of his front door and walking down the porch to his car. I stepped out of the brand-new Lamborghini, and we locked eyes. Motionlessly, he took one glance at the car, one glance at me, one glance at Saint before scoffing and jumping inside the car. He revved his Jeep out of the driveway and down Portola Way, creating skid marks around my heart. But as soon as the sadness came, it disappeared.
My father can’t control my emotions.
He can’t.
I was a rookie at the homemade pasta, but the way Saint taught me all the steps and we worked together around his kitchen as we danced to Bon Jovi blaring from his home music system. All I could imagine was one day years from today when we’re married with children and we’re all cooking together in a kitchen just like this. A little girl on Saint’s hip helping him put the fettuccine pasta in the boiling water. A little newborn boy making a mess of all the vegetable scraps and us all laughing about it. Love. Love all around us.
I crave that. I crave a family desperately with Saint one day. I crave it all.
“Wildflower?”
I glance back at Saint a little dazed. “Sorry, what did you say?”
My blue-eyed boy simply smirks and gives me that knowing look. “Daydreaming about how good I look in this facemask, huh?” he teases.
I burst into a fit of laughter. “You wish!”
“Still nervous about this call, huh?”
“Nervous? Pfft, I’m not nervous.”
I totally am.
Saint playfully rolls his eyes at me. “Okay, I’m just going to wait until that answer changes in three… two… o—”
I cut him off. “Okay, I am nervous, but just a little. I mean, I’m going to technically meet Enrico and he’s one of your closest friends and cousin and that’s big, you know?”
“It’s only a phone call with my cousin to get in contact with Giulio Giannotti about purchasing a place in Seattle.” Saint smiles. “Besides, he’ll love you so much. I just know it. Trust me, baby, he will.”
“All right.” I giggle. “Let’s do it!”
Saint chuckles and the butterflies in my stomach go wild as he picks up his phone from the coffee table. I scoot closer to him, grinning as he wraps an arm around my shoulders and scrolls through his contacts before tapping on Enrico’s name. Excited bundles of nerves are jittering all along my entire body. Saint’s cousin. I’m going to meet Saint’s family.
The phone dials a few times and Saint dramatically rolls his eyes and glances at me with his smirk only growing. “You watch, he’s going to answer with, Enrico Martinez speaking. He gets his work phone and personal phone mixed up all the time. You just have to laugh.”
I giggle and snuggle into Saint’s side, his cologne drifting me into worlds of him.
Enrico finally answers, his voice coming through the speaker. “Hi, Enrico Martinez speaking.”
I smirk over at Saint, and he winks back at me as if to say, ‘see, told you.’
“Hi, Saint Lisconti answering.”
Enrico’s laughter brightens through me. It’s infectious. “Oh shit, man, it’s you! Hugo just woke up from a nightmare, so I was putting him back to bed and picked up the phone without even looking.”
“All good, man. I know you’re busy. How’s Hugo doing?”
Saint’s little nephew.
“He’s good. Obsessed with Toy Story as always. Wouldn’t go to bed without me singing him a lullaby in Italian, so bedtime went for a little longer tonight.”
Saint smiles as he says, “He’s lucky to have you, man.”
“I’m lucky to have him,” Enrico says through the phone. “I’m sorry I haven’t really been in touch lately. Work has been crazy, and Hugo’s needed me more than ever, so it’s all been a little challenging. But I miss you, man, can’t believe you’re moving to Seattle and not here with me in New York! When you were in Santa Rosa, I moved to Seattle, then you moved to Sacramento when I was in New York, and now you’re going to Seattle!”
“Damn, when you say it like that, we sound like we’re scavengers.”
“We are fucking scavengers, Saint.”
They share a laugh and it makes me so happy seeing how content Saint is. I’m glad he has his true friends and family around when he needs it the most. That’s all that matters.
“But don’t you worry,” Enrico adds. “In a little while I’m thinking of heading back to Seattle, so we’ll see each other every day. I’m sure of it. I still can’t believe you bought a Lamborghini. I need to see that beauty in real life. Anyway, how’s everything going with you?”
“Good, good, I’m happy.” Saint’s warm blue eyes hold mine as he says, “Very happy.”
My heart clenches. Aww.
“I also just wanted to ask if you could talk with Giulio. Want to know if he has any of the houses he’s designed currently on the market in Seattle, preferably in or near Madison Park so the University District and Downtown Seattle are both close by.”
“Yeah, I can definitely organize that, man. How about I invite him on the call?”
Invite Giulio Giannotti, THE Giulio Giannotti aka. my dream future boss into this call?
Oh.
My.
God!
“Holy shit,” I gasp, covering my mouth when the words are out.
The line crackles for a second before Enrico’s confused voice asks, “Am I losing it, or did I just hear a woman’s voice?”
“It’s my girlfriend.”
“Did you just girlfriend? Man, what the fuck? We don’t talk for a little bit because life gets in the way, and you’ve got a girl? That’s so good, man. What’s her name?”
“Paisley. Paisley Reign.”
“Is it serious?”
“Mhmmm, I love her to death. Never felt this way before.”
To avoid kissing his facemask, I kiss Saint’s neck instead and his chuckle has me giggling.
“Well, it seems like I definitely missed something.” Enrico laughs. “Let’s FaceTime! I want to meet the girl who stole your heart.”
“Now? He wants to FaceTime right now?” I whisper-shout to Saint. “I look like shit!”
“Babydoll…” Saint throws his head back against the couch in laughter. “You know he can hear you, right?”
Oh, shit!
Enrico’s soft chuckle comes through the phone. “Don’t worry about it, Paisley, just ignore that lovesick boyfriend of yours. I’ll pretend I didn’t hear a word.”
“That’s very kind of you, but I literally have a facemask on… so does Santo.”
“Santo in a facemask? God, I wish I were there to see that. All right, just wash it off and I’ll call back in five. In the meantime, I’ll text Giulio. Hopefully he’s available to FaceTime too, okay?”
“Okay, bye!” Saint and I say in unison.
“Bye bye.”
The second Saint ends the call my eyes widen in complete shock. “I’m going to meet your friends on FaceTime! What if they don’t like me? What if… what if I stuff it up and make a complete fool out of myself in front of Giulio Giannotti, the owner of Notti Designs? It’s such a renowned architecture and interior design company. What if I ruin my chances of ever working in their Seattle landscape architecture division in four years’ time after college? I mean, do I call him Giulio or Mr. Giannotti? Or should I say his full name? What if I accidentally tell him something really awkward because I’m nervous and blow all of my chances with him?”
Saint can’t stop laughing through my frantic slapstick panic. “You mean your future boss…”
“Santo! Don’t jinx me!” I grin mid-gasp. “Let’s get these facemasks off our faces before Enrico calls back!”
A few minutes later, we are back sitting on the couch, just in time as Enrico’s FaceTime request lights up Saint’s screen. Saint kisses me softly and murmurs everything is going to be okay while I’m patting down my dark waves. Then, he accepts the call and holds out the phone so we’re both in the frame.
A man with perfectly tousled dark hair and cocoa brown eyes grins at us through the screen and instantly all my fear fades away. They’re all going to like you. Calm down. Enrico waves at us in a white dress shirt, a few buttons undone, and it seems as though he’s in an office with a dark oak bookshelf behind him. “Aha, the facemasks are all gone, I see. Nice to meet you, Paisley. I’m Enrico, Saint’s right-hand man. Or should I say left hand considering he’s left-handed.”
I giggle at the joke while Saint simply shakes his head with a bright grin.
“It’s nice to meet you too, Enrico! Santo has said so many nice things about you. I’m really sorry if this inconveniences you in any way seeing as you were putting your son to sleep.”
“Don’t apologize, wildflower,” Saint whispers in my ear before kissing my cheek. “You look beautiful.”
“Ahh.” Enrico grins. “Young love.”
“I’m older than you, you idiot.” Saint laughs, turning back to his cousin.
“I know, I know.”
“Did Giulio get back to you?”
“No, radio silence. I’m just going to add him.”
A ringing noise appears, and my heart is pounding in anticipation of this moment. I’ve been dreaming about the day I step into the Notti Designs office—my dream job—for years. I just never imagined I’d be meeting the CEO & founder, Giulio Giannotti like this!
I squeeze Saint’s hand in mine, and a second passes before Enrico’s video box lowers and Giulio appears in the video box on top. Giulio’s in the middle of saying something in Italian when all of a sudden, his striking gray-blue eyes meet us, and he falls silent. He’s shirtless and tangled in white bedsheets with a gorgeous woman by his side. It’s evident they’re naked under those covers. Giulio’s dark hair is tousled and so visibly sex hair. The woman has the most beautiful hazel eyes, long lashes, and short, chestnut hair… graceful and a natural beauty.
“Holy fuck!” Giulio gasps. His eyes widen in horror, almost as if he has no idea he’s even in this call. “Oh, Dio! I tapped the wrong thing!”
Ohmygod!
Saint and I look at each other and burst out in complete laughter.
This is the funniest thing ever!
“Oh, God!” Enrico chuckles, leaning closer to the screen. “Please don’t tell me you guys were doing some post-sex kinky shit with your phone and accidentally picked up…”
“Well, sorry, buddy. You’re in this on your own.” The woman rolls away from Giulio and off the bed, bringing the sheets with her, and we all laugh even more. All except for Giulio, who’s still in complete shock.
“Valencia! Lenciaaa!” Giulio groans, reaching out his hand to her off-camera. “Come back, amore. I pressed the wrong button. Forgive me, I’m old.”
“You’re thirty-three!” Valencia’s sweet voice comes from afar.
He suggestively winks at her. “Well, you know what you say about being thirty-three…”
“There isn’t even a comeback to that, man.” Saint chuckles, shaking his head.
Giulio joins in the laughter, rubbing a hand along his dark stubbled jaw… that is until a pillow is slammed on his face and a smiling Valencia takes over his phone. “All right, I’m going to leave you all to it, but just so you know, we were literally watching a replay of when Italy won the World Cup.”
Giulio appears behind her. He’s wearing dark boxer briefs and wraps his arms around her waist from behind, resting his chin on her shoulder. “Don’t lie to our friends. You know you like it when I…” he whispers something in Valencia’s ear and her face turns red. She’s giggling within seconds and playfully shoves his chest as she says, “Okay, I’m out of here! It’s great to see you, Enrico and Saint. It’s nice to meet you…”
“Paisley.” I smile.
“Paisley.” She grins back. “I’m sure we can chat more when my husband isn’t being a complete pain in the ass.”
“Don’t give him any more ideas, Val.” Enrico chuckles.
Giulio laughs, slapping her ass through the covers wrapped around her as she runs out of the room. Eventually, Giulio takes a seat on an emerald velvet chair that seems as though it’s in the seating section in their stunning primary suite. “Hi, I’m so sorry about that. I honestly pressed the wrong button. Sorry, we haven’t met before, Paisley…?”
“Paisley Reign.” I can’t help but grin. “And no, we haven’t. It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Giannotti.”
“Call me Giulio, and the pleasure is all mine.” He smiles. “I see you’re with Saint… but if you were a possible client or employee, I’d probably hide under a rock for a very long time.”
“Well, that’s a little ironic because Saint and I are possible clients, and if I’m honest, I’m also an aspiring employee too.”
“Jesus Christ!” The gasp Giulio lets out is hilarious as he rubs a hand over his defined stubbled jaw and groans. “I am so sorry you’re seeing me like his, Paisley. I’m definitely giving you a raise the day you start working with me.”
“You hear that, wildflower?” Saint laughs. “You’ve already got the job!”
“Oh perfect, no interview?” I joke.
“Yeah, literally no interview. You saw me gawk at my wife like I was in some porno. Don’t worry, I’ll remember your name and you can just walk into my building when the time comes. Want me to create the key card right now?”
“See, what were you stressing about? You got the job.” Saint laughs.
“Great, I totally don’t need to go to college now.”
I half expect them to react to me admitting I’ll be in college soon when I’m with a thirty-six-year-old man. Perhaps it’s because we’ve received so much criticism and judgment from some people already that I think they’re going to say something too, but Enrico and Giulio, they don’t react badly to it. They smile. It’s as if it isn’t even a problem and that makes me so happy because I’m so sick of all the negative outside noise. This is a relationship between Saint and me. Nobody else.
“I love that you’ll be the third person in this FaceTime call to go to college in Washington State!” Enrico grins. “Saint, you missed the fucking memo! What happened, man?”
“Sorry about that, man.” Saint dramatically raises his hands with a smirk. “Guess I was too busy at Stanford to even notice.”
“Yeah, yeah, smartass. How do you deal with him, Paisley?”
I grin over at Saint. “I think the question is how he deals with me.”
“You’re perfect for each other, trust me,” Giulio says. “Tell me, what’s your college and bachelor?”
“Landscape architecture at the University of Washington in Seattle.”
“Aww, that’s amazing. We’ll practically be neighbors in Seattle! I went to WSU, which is a few hours away from that college. All right, I like you already. You say architecture, I say Amennn!”
“Oh no,” Enrico groans. “Paisley, you’ve unlocked the volt. Giulio is the most professional guy I know, but I think he had a little too much vino and a little too much ahem.”
Giulio can’t stop nodding to himself, his eyes glazing over a little. “Look, there comes a time when you have three children and there’s still potential for your family to grow, so you just look at your beautiful wife and say, I fucking love you so much, let’s keep this going.”
Enrico chuckles. “Oh shit! Are you actually freaking drunk, man?”
“No.” Giulio shakes his head and hiccups so loud he bounces on the chair. “Date night with my wife just makes me this giddy. Giddy, isn’t that a funny word?”
“Definitely had one too many glasses.” Saint smirks. “I see the date nights at the Giannotti residence are something to envy, huh?”
“Lenciaaa?”
“Yeah?” Valencia’s voice calls out from the distance.
Giulio grins and stands, jogging through his house. “Where did she go anyway?” he mumbles to himself, then all of a sudden he’s in the primary bathroom and Valencia playfully rolls her eyes at him, tightening the sheets around her as she continues to wash her face at a marble vanity.
“Saint wants to know if the date nights at the Giannotti residence are something to envy.”
“Holy hell! I’m so sorry to all of you.” Valencia laughs, dabbing her face with a face towel as she reappears on the screen. “Giulio literally never gets drunk. Like ever. The one night he goes a little crazy, this is what happens.”
“I’m not drunk, darling, I’m in loveeeee—Oh shit!” Giulio trips over something and the phone flies from his grip and goes sliding across the floor until it slams against something and the screen turns black. “Well, maybe just a little drunk…” he groans in the background, and then he reappears on the screen but upside-down and starts laughing. “Oops. Look, I don’t want to make a fool out of myself, so whatever conversation you all wanted to have, let’s have it tomorrow. That way we can talk when I’m not making an ass out of myself.”
“Sounds good,” Saint says. “We’ll set that up. Have a good night everybody!”
Enrico nods. “Buenas noches to all, and great to meet you, Paisley.”
“Nice to meet you too and also Giulio and Valencia as well. Night!”
Giulio smiles. “My pleasure. Ciao, ciao!”
“Sweet dreams!” Valencia’s voice looms in the background, just before we all end the call.
Saint cuddles me to his side, and I laugh into his chest as he kisses my forehead with a smile. “Well, that was something else. See, you’ve got nothing to worry about, babydoll. We’re all human at the end of the day, as I said, Giulio’s the nicest guy you’ll ever meet.”
“He truly is! They all are such great people, I love them!”
Saint smirks. “Hope you still love me more…”
“Always.” I grin against his lips, feeling such warmth inside me it’s bursting at the seams. “Here’s to Seattle, baby.”
“Here’s to the entire world and you.”
After the romantic candlelight dinner Saint and I have at home, we move along to the living room and sit around the coffee table on the plush white rug. The lamps are on, giving a dimmed hue. Dinner was perfect and everything I love. Homemade. Alone. With him.
Now, as Saint pours us two tall glasses of water, a bowl of cherries on the coffee table between us, I smile at just how much of a beautiful man inside and out my Santo really is.
“That dinner was so mouthwateringly delicious!” I moan, leaning up against the couch as I cross my legs on the floor. “I didn’t know you could cook like that.”
“If I remember it right, you were right there cooking with me, bella.”
“I know, but you’re the pro.” I smile, sipping some refreshing water as he hands me the television remote control to his huge smart TV. “Can we watch one of your boxing fights?”
I don’t know what I expected, but it definitely isn’t the huge grin that works up his lips. “Yeah, what the hell, let’s fucking do it.”
I can’t stop grinning and give him the TV remote back. “You know what to search up. Give me all the goods.”
Saint chuckles as he goes to YouTube on his TV before typing up his name and one of his fights. For the next few hours, we watch a mash-up of his best fights and my God is it impressive watching the man you love dominating a ring with a single pair of fighting shorts, striking powerful boxing technique, and those fierce blue eyes screaming out victory.
Seeing his hard-working body glazed in perspiration… those abs tense with every jab… his endurance… the concentration… the endless wins… his fury… the crowd chanting out his name as he delivers efficient hit after hit to his opponent, again and again and again, until he’s crowned the champion.
“My boyfriend is a total badass.”
“Yeah, my ass is pretty nice, isn’t it?”
I laugh. “That’s not what I said.”
Saint playfully wiggles his brows. “But it’s what you were thinking. Let’s be honest.”
As we continue watching his different fights, I rest my forehead against his shoulder and smile at the television. He wraps a hand around my waist, his thumb continuously caressing my skin through my dress. I breathe in his musky sandalwood scent and love all the versions of Santo Lisconti. The man fighting through the screen. The man beside me. All of him.
“Thank you so much for allowing me to see you like this,” I murmur.
Saint kisses my hair and smiles. “Thank you for loving me through my every stage.”
