I set the steaming casserole dish on the table and called upstairs to Leo. It was his first home-cooked meal in a week, and I’d made his favorite. Pasta al forno. A pasta dish, with tomatoes, baked in the oven until the cheese was melted to perfection. I tossed a salad and set it in the middle.
“There’s room for one more, isn’t there? Don’t break my heart,” a lilting Irish brogue murmured just behind me.
I turned to find Bran looking longingly at the food. The man had been sitting outside on the porch for an hour, after I’d chased him out of the kitchen.
“There’s plenty. I’m having guests.”
“Hmm, is it the bodyguard and his bride? How exciting.” Bran leaned an elbow on the counter and stole a radish from the chopping board. “How did you end up here together? Nikolai told me a little of what went down at the end of his time with your family.”
“It was terrible in the way that only my father can be responsible for. The only good thing to come from the entire thing was how Nikolai’s brother, Kirill, made sure Angelo and Chiara got money to start over. He never asked them where they were going. He just equipped them to escape.”
“Kirill is a good pakhan, according to Nikolai.”
“Yeah, except for that time when he handed him over to my father.” I gave Bran a wry grin.
“Maybe so, but you wouldn’t be here, and Leo wouldn’t be either if he hadn’t. Sometimes, fate has plans for us.” Bran smiled at me.
“Well, fate didn’t bring Angelo and Chiara to Maine. It was me. She managed to contact me through our college emails, since I didn’t have a phone she could call or the ability to see anyone I knew. She’d offered to come where I was. I jumped at the chance. I was so scared of being pregnant and alone, without any money or place to go… It was pretty selfish of me.”
“That doesn’t sound selfish to me. It sounds like you found your people, and they found you. Maybe they needed you, too. One person they didn’t have to lie about their identities in front of. One person who really knew them. It’s important.”
“I never thought of it like that. So, do you have lots of people who really know you?”
Bran chuckled. “I have three siblings, so pretty much. Killian, Quinn, and Ronan.”
The name finally clicked. “Wait a minute, you mean to tell me you’re Bran O’Connor. From the notorious O’Connor family? I knew I’d heard your name. So, you and Nikolai bonded over hating my father?”
Bran laughed. “A little, maybe.”
I tapped my lip, considering everything I knew about that family. “Your brother Ronan is a criminal defense attorney, right?”
“The best.”
“And your eldest brother, Killian. Isn’t he in prison?”
“He is and has been for a while. He doesn’t play well with others. Ronan is working on getting him out, though. I’m sure we’ll all be sitting around eating dinner again soon enough.”
“And your sister?”
“My sister’s only twenty-one. You’d think that’d be too young to cause problems, but she’s the real troublemaker in the family. You’d like her.”
“Is that right?”
Bran nodded. “And how’s your brother? Renato De Sanctis… does he sleep well at night, considering what happened to you and Leo?”
I glanced at Bran. There was judgment in his eyes that I couldn’t face. “No. Neither of us do, but it doesn’t change anything. You wouldn’t understand, unless you grew up with my family. Honor, respect for your father, for the don, knowing your place… it’s ingrained in us from birth. Written in the blood. Italians don’t go against blood easily.”
Bran nodded. “You’re blood, too. Leo’s blood.”
I swallowed hard. I had no way to make him understand the number that Antonio had done on Renato. How he’d taught him to push people away, to stay cold and aloof, and locked inside. People were a weakness, and the only way to avoid that weakness was not to care about anyone. My brother was fucked in the head, just as much as I’d been, the little bird with clipped wings. Renato was worse, probably, because he’d been around it longer.
“Well, what is it Nikolai says? Happy families are all alike; every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way.”
I smiled. “It’s Tolstoy, from Anna Karenina.”
Bran sighed. “Figured it would be some depressed Russian, writing that shit. I’ve never seen someone read as much as Nikolai. It was all he did in prison. Well, that and wreaked havoc on the gen pop.”
“Naturally.” I found myself smiling at the very thought of Nikolai, reading away the time, escaping into books like he had when he was young.
The doorbell chimed softly, and Bran straightened. “I’ll get it. Let’s see if daddy Angelo believes you have a new boyfriend.”
He disappeared through the house just as Leo came down the stairs.
“Dinner. Wash your hands.”
“I already did!” He got into his little chair at the end of the table.
Chiara rushed into the kitchen. “Holy hell, girl. When you do something, you really do it. I thought you’d clean your pipes with the hot Irishman, not bring him home to Leo.”
She pulled me close and kissed me on both cheeks. Her eyes widened dramatically as she held on to my shoulders. “Is he as hot in bed as he looks like he’d be? Blink twice for yes.”
“Zia Chiara!” Leo called, waving from the dining area of the open-plan kitchen.
She turned and plastered an innocent smile on her face and waved to Leo.
“Hello, tesoro, I’ve missed your cheeky face.”
Angelo appeared, looking back over his shoulder as he went. Suspicion and caution were written across his features as he stared hard at Bran.
The man himself ambled toward me and draped an arm across my shoulders. “Well, love, have you told them all about us?”
“Hilarious.”
“Who is this?” Angelo asked, eyeing Bran with a dangerous look. He might have stopped being paid to be my bodyguard seven years ago, but he’d never really given up the role. He was as overprotective as ever, over me and Leo.
“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” I muttered, juggling the hot dinner plates and the casserole dish. “Are you really eating with us?” I directed the last to Bran.
“Damn right. It smells amazing. I love a woman who can cook. How does your lady stack up in that department?”
He grinned at Angelo, who looked like he wanted to tear Bran’s head off his neck.
“Tell me who you are, or you’re not staying.”
“For dinner?” Bran wondered.
“In Maine,” Angelo growled, his huge shoulders bunched up.
“Don’t worry, big guy. He’s with me.”
The newcomer spoke from the doorway, and the voice was enough to freeze us all to the spot, well, all except Leo and Bran. Bran leaned back, smiling at his friend, while Leo perked up, sitting up in his chair and casting curious eyes at the man lounging in the doorway.
Nikolai leaned against the doorjamb, his eyes fixing on Angelo. My former bodyguard stood slowly, his chair scraping noisily across the floor.
“Oh my god, what the hell! Girl, you’ve been holding out on me so hard,” Chiara squealed.
“What is it, what is it!” Leo demanded.
Bran patted him on the shoulder. “Just old friends catching up.”
“Okay.” Leo smiled at the scene around him, happy to have a full house.
Angelo had crossed the room to Nikolai. The two sized each other up. A wave of nerves traveled across me as I watched them. What if Nikolai blamed Angelo for keeping me a secret? What if the room was about to turn into a bloodbath? No. He wouldn’t do that. Not with Leo here. I knew it without a doubt, somehow.
Nikolai’s serious expression suddenly morphed into a wicked grin. “Come here, big guy. Long time no see.”
He pulled Angelo into him and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. Angelo jerked with surprise at first and then relaxed. He slapped Nikolai’s back, and the two split apart, smiling.
“Holy shit, that was hot,” Chiara said, gaze riveted to her husband and Nikolai, a piece of garlic bread halfway to her mouth.
“Zia cattiva! You said a swear!” Leo held out his hand. “A dollar fine.”
Chiara slapped a ten into his hand. “This dinner requires an advance payment. Go nuts, kid.”
“They let you out? This whole country’s gone to pot,” Angelo grinned.
Bran cackled. “Classic dad joke.”
“Hey, don’t you call my husband old,” Chiara quipped, pointing at him across the table.
“Look, you, don’t forget who first called your husband daddy, eh? Let’s get our facts straight.”
I tore my attention away from Chiara and Bran, squabbling across the table like siblings.
Nikolai approached me as Angelo returned to his seat.
“Good evening, Ms. Rossi,” he said quietly, his hands landing on my hip. He leaned in to kiss me hello, and his lips brushing across my cheek felt far too intentional and slow to be a greeting.
I flushed.
“Good evening. Are you okay?”
He leaned back, resting against the counter and crossing his arms. “Believe it or not, I’m a big boy and don’t get scared of needles. Getting a sticker was fun, though.”
“Very funny. I mean… are you okay really?” I didn’t really know what I was asking, only that Nikolai seemed calmer than I’d seen him since he’d returned to my life. There was a contentedness about him that made me feel soothed inside.
We both looked at the full, noisy table.
Nikolai discreetly took my hand, lacing his fingers through mine. “A month ago, I’d have said no, and seriously doubt if I ever would be again. Now… Yes. I’m okay. Budet zima, budet leto. There will be winter, there will be summer.”
“Meaning?”
People called us to join them. Leo was laughing, and Bran and Chiara were arguing, while Angelo poured wine liberally into glasses.
“Meaning, you, Sofia… are my summer.”
I didn’t know what to say to that. Like always, he stole my words and my heart at the same time.
“Nikolai!” Leo’s voice carried across the din. “You can sit next to me.”
Nikolai immediately turned toward the sound of his son’s voice. “With pleasure.”
He squeezed my hip and headed to the end of the table, where Leo was grinning at him madly.
Finally, everyone had a plate, a drink, and was ready to eat.
“Can I propose a toast?” Bran said, rising to his feet. “It’ll be short, because this food is too good not to eat immediately.”
“Go head then,” Nikolai said and waved to his friend. “He won’t stop until he’s done it,” he explained.
“To friends, old and new. To good health and many more dinners to come. To family, wherever you find it, no matter the distance or time apart.” Bran’s words seemed to hold us all spellbound for a second.
“Slainte!’ Bran grinned and raised his glass.
“Salute,” Angelo followed, kissing Chiara on the forehead as she clinked her glass against his.
I turned to Nikolai. “Cheers.”
“Na Zdorovie,” Nikolai raised his glass to mine.
