Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 77160 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77160 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
“She’s going to love you, you know that, right?” I asked, giving her thigh a squeeze.
“I’m pretty sure she would love anyone who would get her last single son to settle down and give her grandbabies.”
She knew my mom too well already.
“Maybe. But she’s going to love you too.”
“Are we going to Sunday dinner?”
“Not this one, no.”
“Why not?”
“Because I may have made Luca swear not to tell my family that I was back yet.”
“What? Why?”
“Because I want a few days alone with you. Really lock you down. Before you meet them and have second thoughts,” I said, getting a warm smile out of her.
“I know I’m going to love them all. They’re part of you.”
I knew it down to my damn marrow that this was the right move, the right woman, the right future.
And I couldn’t wait to see what came next.
Roe - 5 days
Milo’s idea of ‘nothing too special’ and mine were wildly different things.
Sure, maybe my idea was skewed thanks to living in a converted hotel room with no real kitchen and a bathroom barely big enough to brush my dang hair in. And before that, it was a lot of hotel rooms and a cramped New York City apartment with no closet space and a radiator that spat fire all winter long.
But I think anyone would say Milo Grassi’s home was, objectively, a very nice place.
He lived in a new-build apartment building that I might even call ‘luxury’ compared to some of the other ones we’d seen when driving around and exploring the area.
He was on the top floor with three bedrooms, two full baths, dedicated living and dining spaces, a small flex area, and a respectably sized kitchen. With an oven. And a dishwasher. His fridge even had an ice maker.
I felt like a damn princess after the past year in my apartment.
Alley, too, had been settling in.
And by ‘settling in,’ I mean claiming the place like some queen on her throne. I swear I could practically hear her inner monologue as she walked around the place the first time: Yes, this is what I have always deserved.
She loved Milo, tolerated me, and was having a one-sided beef with one of the cats in the complex who walked around the quad behind the buildings.
Milo was out at a meeting with his brothers and cousins—the first time I’d been left fully alone in his place since we arrived in Navesink Bank. I’d even joined him on quick trips out to pick up takeout.
Clingy? Possibly.
But mostly, I just really wanted to soak in this place. Partially because Milo spoke so fondly of it. But also because I was hoping this was going to be my home, my future. I wanted to know it the way someone who lived there their whole life would.
And that night, I was going to explore the most important location of all.
Milo’s mother’s house.
Was I nervous?
No.
I was bellyache-terrified.
Milo’s family was everything to him. I knew he believed that they would all love me no matter what because he cared about me, but I really wanted them to like me for me too.
The bedroom was a mess from where I’d strewn all my dresses on the bed, trying to find the one that would be the most appropriate for a family dinner. So, yeah, definitely not any of my stage dresses.
Eventually, I settled on the same dress I wore to meet with Milo that first time, a pair of kitten heels, and light makeup.
My face was still not looking great. Neither were the band of bruises around my arm. But everything had faded to less awful shades of green and yellow with just a smidge of purple.
I’d tried to use makeup to cover it up but ended up looking too cake. I was just going to have to be okay with people looking. Milo assured me that it wasn’t the first time someone had shown up to Sunday dinner with bruises.
I heard Milo’s keys in the door and took a steadying breath.
“You look gorgeous,” he said as soon as he saw me.
“Thanks.”
“Are you ready to head out?”
Nope.
“Yeah,” I said, giving him a smile as I grabbed my bag. “Now, listen. Don’t you go embarrassing us by caterwauling at that tabby, okay?” I told Alley, who spared me one bored glance before going back to cleaning her one good ear.
Adrian Grassi’s home was the very definition of cozy. Well-maintained lawns and gardens, mature trees, and that kind of cozy/cluttered home you saw in old rom-coms, the kind that told you to kick off your shoes, curl up, and stay awhile.
I only got about two feet in the door before the matriarch herself came rushing forward to frame my face in both of her hands.
“Oh, he told me you were gorgeous, but I think he understated it. What beautiful babies you are going to make!”