Summer in Napa

chapter 13

Sweet baby Jesus, Lexi thought when she looked through the peephole. Marc was hot.

Still staring her fill, and reminding herself that drooling was not her best look, she smoothed down her dress—her Neiman dress that made her butt look a size smaller and her boobs two sizes bigger. It was a silky green and matched her eyes, had cost Jeffery a pretty penny, and she had been dying to wear it since she came back to town. It was her charge-it-to-my-husband’s-account, Alexis-Moreau-is-back, you’re-going-to-get-lucky-tonight dress. She’d bought it to impress the town, but tonight she only hoped to wow the bad boy next door.

The boy next door, who happened to be leaning against her porch rail, arms crossed, badass smile in place. Then there was the way his too-tempting pair of low-hung button-fly jeans hugged his thighs and how those dark eyes of his seemed to be staring right at her, which was impossible, since the door was closed.

“I know I’m pretty damn sexy, but could you speed up the gawking? Although flattering, it’s hot out here,” Marc said, smiling.

Lexi jumped back, her hand over her mouth. There was no way he could see her. First because the hole was tiny, and second, that would be way too embarrassing.

Cautious not to make a sound, she looked through the hole again. Maybe he was just making a lucky guess.

His smile widened, and he gave her a wink. “I can see you through the peephole, cream puff.”

Taking three steps back, she turned toward the stairs and yelled, “Coming,” hoping that it would sound like she was upstairs. “Just getting my—” She looked down. She was fully dressed, so she slipped off a heel. “Shoes. Just getting my shoes.”

Stomping on the lower stairs a few times, each louder than the next, she opened the door and made a big deal of hopping on one foot while she slid on her shoe—for the second time that night. Securely in place, she looked up and smiled. Problem was, Marc was smiling back. Correction, smirking. Marc was smirking back.

“What?” she challenged. There was no way that he could prove she had been gawking.

“I watched you put your shoes on twenty minutes ago.”

She didn’t know why, but his admission made her stomach flutter. Still, she wasn’t about to admit that she had been watching him.

“I changed them.” Her voice went higher with each lie she uttered.

Marc dropped his gaze to her feet. “If you say so.”

“What’s that?” she asked, pointing to the paper bag in his hand and hoping he’d drop the subject.

“For you.” He held it up, a shy smile tugging at his lips.

Oh boy, Marc was nervous—and blushing. Not good. In fact, the knowledge made breathing difficult. It also made her palms sweat.

When she didn’t take it right away and his hands started fidgeting with the paper bag, the awkwardness level increased until Lexi considered shutting the door and calling off the date. Her being nervous was one thing. Him being nervous was a sign that they should put a stop to the whole situation, because it told her that tonight’s date meant something to him. Which made it okay for her to admit what she’d known all day: this date also meant something to her—a big something.

“Open it,” he forced out, handing her the bag.

Lexi took the bag and did as he asked, peeking inside. At the bottom sat a parcel wrapped in butcher paper. “What’s this?”

Marc shoved his hands in his pockets. “Um, boar loin.”

Lexi smiled. Not flowers. Not chocolates. But boar. Wild boar.

“I don’t know what to say.”

Actually, she did. But admitting that raw meat was the most thoughtful gift anyone had ever given her made her love life sound pathetic. Or maybe—she thought back to Mrs. DeLuca and her spaghetti-splattered apron—this was real romance.

“Mr. Craver mentioned that back in the day they served wild boar at the Showdown,” he said, shifting his weight. “But that over the years it had been modernized to pork chops.”

“Is that what you were asking him about at the farmers’ market?”

“I ordered it that day. If you like it, he can order as much as you need.”

Lexi had spent the better part of the afternoon trying to figure out what her rolled pork loin was missing. Boar would give it a gamy quality that would set her dish apart while still remaining true to the spirit of the event.

Clutching the boar to her chest, Lexi wrapped her free arm around Marc’s neck and pulled him down to meet her mouth. “Thank you,” she mumbled against his lips before delivering a series of soft, lingering kisses.

Breathless, Lexi pulled back, but Marc’s arms were around her waist, holding her to him, the boar trapped between their bodies.

“You’re welcome,” he whispered right before his mouth claimed hers. It was gentle, but the heat lingered long after he’d ended the kiss.

“You’d better put that in the fridge so we can go.” His palms slid down her back, over the curve of her bottom, where they lingered for a long get-to-know-you moment before making their way back up to gently cup her face. “One more minute alone and we’ll end up naked. Here. In the hallway.”





The drive over to his family’s house was silent and so full of sexual heat it was impossible to talk. So when Marc pulled up in the driveway and put the truck in park, his fingers gripping the wheel so tightly she was afraid he’d break either the steering column or his hand, she wondered if maybe they should have had a quickie before coming over. Every cell in her body hummed to the point of frustration, and one look at the tent in his pants said he was just as bad.

“Marc—”

“I’m sorry,” he said, turning to face her.

“Don’t be. I mean, we couldn’t be late for dinner.”

“I wasn’t talking about that, but obviously it’s been on your mind,” he said, his lips curling up into a smile that had her girly parts giving a standing O. “We still have a few minutes.”

“We’re parked in front of your family’s house,” she whispered.

“No one’s out there. I promise.” He unbuckled his seat belt and started to reach for her.

“Says the man who knew the pantry door was fixed.” She batted his hands away.

He dodged her attempt and unbuckled her belt to pull her on his lap. He felt good. Too good. “You weren’t complaining last night.”

No, she hadn’t. Not even when Marc, after staying true to his word of not sliding home, had turned the knob and then nonchalantly pushed open the pantry door. It seemed when he dropped by to talk with Tanner, the contractor had been installing a new lock.

“Yeah, well, our grandmothers could be looking out the window.”

“Then we better steam ours up real fast.”

He dropped his lips to hers, but she shoved her hand in between their mouths. Undeterred, he moved to her neck instead.

“It’s not going to happen, Marc,” she said, tilting her head to the side so he could get behind her ear to that sweet spot he was so good at teasing. “So going on will only make it harder on both of us.”

Did she just moan or was that him?

“Tell me about it,” he mumbled against her neck. His hand, which was halfway up her dress, tightened, pulling her firmly against his erection.

“Tell me what you were apologizing for.”

With a sigh, Marc’s lips stopped. He gave her one final nip on the lobe and then pulled back. “I’m apologizing for my family.”

“Your family? What did they say?”

“Nothing yet. But they will. They’re Italian,” he said by way of explanation. Lexi struggled to hide her grin. She didn’t do a very good job, because he added, “Laugh now, but you’ll see. They’re loud and opinionated and can’t help but shove their noses in everyone else’s business.”

She gave his cheek a quick pat because he looked so serious. “I’ve met your family, Marc. Spent most of my high school years having sleepovers with Abby.”

“Yeah, well, this is different. You aren’t having a sleepover with Abby. You’re having one with me.”

If he hadn’t sounded so frustrated, she would have pointed out that they were just having dinner. The sleepover part, although definitely on the table, hadn’t been addressed. But then he ran a hand down his face and exhaled long and hard, and Lexi’s breath caught, and not in a good way.

Was he regretting his decision to bring her?

“Look, if you don’t want to do this, it’s not a big deal.” Although her heart was telling her the complete opposite. “I can just go home and—”

He kissed her silent. His lips were strong and insistent and telling her he wasn’t going to stop until she agreed to let him finish. So she wrapped her arms around his neck and let him get in the last word.

“I want you,” he breathed when he finally pulled back. “In my bed. My truck. The pantry. The kitchen.” He gave her another quick kiss. “Especially wearing that apron of yours. Hell, I even wanted you at the damn dog park. I want you, Lexi. And I want you here, tonight, by my side at my nonna’s table. Got it?”

She nodded.

“But I’ve never brought a girl home.”

“Ever?”

“Ever.” She let that sink in. He was trying to tell her something, something important, but Lexi was too afraid to listen. “My brothers are going to say shit, try to be funny and embarrass me. It’s what we do.”

Having brothers didn’t seem all that fun. She remembered back in high school how the DeLuca boys had gotten into it with each other, laughing it off in the end. But she had always wondered if Marc, who was usually the focus, really found their games fun.

“I am afraid that they will embarrass you in the process. And I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable.”

And just like that her heart went mushy. For Marc freaking DeLuca.

Afraid she’d do something stupid, like cry or blurt out that she might be falling for him, Lexi gave him a quick peck on the lips and opened his door. She hopped out and offered him her hand. When he took it, they walked up to the front door.

Like she had told Marc, she had been to this house a thousand times over the years, but it never failed to steal her breath. Built in the late nineteenth century, the stone-faced Italian villa, with its ornate corbel-supported eaves and low-pitched roof, stood two stories tall with cornice towers identifying the entry of the house. Surrounded by massive oak trees and vines, it also sat in the middle of one of the most elaborate gardens in the Napa Valley—ChiChi’s award-winning flower garden, to be exact.

“It’s still not too late to go back to your place,” Marc said when they got to the front door. The way his hand fit into the curve of her waist and his lips brushed hers, sending a yummy heat rushing throughout her body, made her want to take him up on the offer.

Then the front door flew open. And the only heat rushing was straight to her face.

Abby looked frazzled and slightly harassed. She also looked from Lexi to Marc and back to Lexi. Her eyes were wide, and sweat beaded her upper lip. Abby tended to sweat when she got mad. So Lexi took a step back, away from Abby and out of Marc’s arms.

“You’re here.”

“Don’t look so horrified,” Lexi joked—kind of—and then, after studying the way Abby’s left hand plucked at the hem of her shirt, practically strangling the silk, she realized that Abby wasn’t mad, she was pissed.

Lexi smiled.

Abby didn’t smile back. She didn’t move, didn’t open the door wider, didn’t say, “Please come in.” She just stood there, blocking the entry—sweating, her hands fisted in her shirt.

“I have to go to the bathroom,” Abby announced as though it was the most natural greeting in the world. Then, to make an already awkward moment even more awkward, she grabbed Lexi by the elbow and pulled.

Marc grabbed her other elbow. “And you need her to do that?”

Abby looked behind her, uncharacteristically worrying her lower lip.

“You okay?” Lexi asked, feeling a wee bit guilty. Abby had called her a total of seven times today, every one sent to voice mail. The week was up, Abby would demand answers, and Lexi still didn’t know how to explain her and Marc. It wasn’t fake, but it couldn’t be real, and she wasn’t sure exactly where that left them.

“I’d like to bring my girlfriend inside, so would you mind moving?”

That he didn’t even stumble on the word made Lexi smile.

“Yes. No. I mean, I need her.” Loud male laughter erupted from somewhere in the house. “Now.”

“Yeah, well, I need you to stop advertising your ex’s goods, or lack thereof, until after the Showdown. Just like you can talk to Lexi after we’ve come inside and said hi to Nonna.” Marc’s hand tightened on Lexi’s, telling her he wasn’t letting her go. It felt nice. It also made her realize that she wanted Marc to escort her inside. She wanted to walk into this house holding hands and greet their families as a couple.

Abby eyed Marc. “Five minutes with her or I tell Nonna how you sold bootleg porn in high school to buy your truck. Is that really the way you want to introduce your girlfriend?”

Marc choked and let go.

Lexi looked at Marc and raised a brow. “Really?”

He shrugged. “It was a nice truck.”

“But porn?”

“I’m an entrepreneur.” Then he leaned in and his warm breath tickled her ear as he whispered, “Don’t worry, cream puff. Even back then I was all about quality. I think I still have a few DVDs left if you want to check them out later.”

Marc pulled back, and except for her nipples, which were standing up and cheering their support, Lexi didn’t move. She thought of herself and Marc lying naked in bed, watching someone else naked in bed, and by the time she got to the part where she should have been turned off, her whole body was reaching DEFCON 1.

“I think my soul just died a little,” Abby said, yanking Lexi by the arm.

She yanked her through the foyer, past three smiling grannies, a group of stunned DeLucas, one Hard-Hammer Tanner—minus tool belt and steel-toed boots—and into the bathroom, not stopping until they were inside the shower with the curtain pulled.





Marc wondered how he’d gone from date to third wheel as he watched his sister disappear down the hallway with Lexi, and her swaying, beautiful backside, in tow. When the bathroom door slammed with a resounding no-boys-allowed thud, he accepted that he’d have to enter the first family dinner he’d ever brought a girl to girl-less.

“What’s that about?” Jack Tanner, his old buddy, asked the second Marc entered the family room. His brothers and Tanner were all seated around the coffee table, sharing a bottle of DeLuca cab. All except for Tanner, who held a longneck in his hand.

“Abby had to go to the bathroom, and apparently she needed Lexi to go with her,” Marc explained while he took a seat in one of the high-back chairs.

“No, I meant, since when did you start bringing dates to your family dinner?” Tanner clarified, sharing a smart-ass grin with Trey and Nate. Gabe ignored them all, instead glaring at his glass of iced tea.

“Since Nonna would kick my ass if I missed a family dinner and Lexi invited me over tonight.” He took in Tanner and frowned. Marc knew his kind. A smooth-talking, womanizing panty whisperer, just like Marc—only supersized. And he’d seen the way Tanner had been checking out his sister the other day at the farmers’ market when he was sure Abby wasn’t looking. “And since when do you do the hands-on shit for small remodels like the bistro?”

Tanner had started tearing apart and flipping high-end homes for fun, something to keep him busy after he retired from his career in the NFL. His company sometimes took on smaller jobs for longtime locals as a favor, and Tanner always did the initial inspection, but his crew were usually the ones swinging the hammers. Tanner was more of the seven-figure-project kind of guy.

“Since this one was a special request.” Tanner leaned back, stretching out his legs and making himself right at home. “Plus my hands started getting itchy, wanted to see some action.”

Marc was about to inform him that the only action Tanner was going to get was his ass handed to him if he kept smiling like that when Trey said, “Don’t mind him, he isn’t getting any.”

“F*ck off,” Marc grumbled.

“So is that a no?” Trey’s grin spread across his face until Marc wanted to punch him.

Marc stood, not sure why he was so mad. Tanner was just giving him a hard time, and he and his brothers talked that way about women all the time. Well, all the brothers except for Gabe as of late. “What part of ‘f*ck off’ did you miss? Do we need to go outside so I can make sure you get the point this time?”

“Take it easy,” Gabe said, chewing on a piece of ice.

“Like you did when you tried to take me out with the remote control?” Marc challenged, referring to the time several months ago when Gabe and Marc nearly came to blows over Gabe dating Regan.

Gabe froze, a small smile touching his lips. “Didn’t know we were there.”

Marc shrugged. He didn’t want to explain his relationship with Lexi. He couldn’t. Not when he didn’t understand what the hell their relationship was. Sure, he wanted to strip her naked, roll around until they were both sweaty and gasping for air, only to start over again when they finished. Problem was—and this was where it got confusing—for the first time in, well, ever, Marc found himself more attracted to the idea of snuggling than sex.

Then he conjured up the image of her in that dress she had on tonight and reconsidered his statement. Thought about the way she filled out the top to perfection and how the dress’s back was cut so low that there was no way she was wearing a bra under it, and thinking became damn near impossible. Because when she’d sat in his truck earlier and her dress had ridden up, baring those mile-long legs to midthigh, his palms twitched with the need to stroke her from her red-tipped toes all the way up and under to see if she had forgone the panties as well.

He tugged at his jeans, grumbling under his breath when it didn’t relieve one damn bit of pressure. All he had to do was think about her and his southern region stood to attention.

“Fair enough.” Gabe nodded, a knowing flicker lighting up his eyes, and that made Marc nervous. “Does she know about the Monte deal, then?”

Trey jerked his gaze at Tanner, as though asking what the hell Gabe was thinking, talking about Monte in mixed company. As far as Marc was concerned, Tanner was a stand-up guy, had stood by the DeLuca family at a time when he could have made their lives a living hell. But he wasn’t family. And family business was reserved for family. Period. So what the hell was Gabe thinking?

Plus, he didn’t want to admit to his brothers that he was waiting for Jeff to return just one of his damn calls. Because admitting that would also make him face the fact that maybe he’d been wrong all these years. Maybe Jeff wasn’t the stand-up guy he’d always thought. Maybe what Marc has seen as a good friend not judging him had really been someone who didn’t care enough one way or the other.

Regardless, he needed to talk to Jeff first, have him explain a few things so that Marc had the facts straight before he went to Lexi. Because the more time he spent with Lexi, the more he began to understand what had gone down in the divorce, the more Marc got just how instrumental a role he’d played in Lexi’s situation.

And if that was the case, he didn’t want to tell her. Ever. Didn’t want to be another guy to drop a load of BS in her life that she’d have to deal with alone, because once she knew, there was no doubt in his mind that she would send him packing.

“It’s all right,” Gabe said, and for a moment Marc feared that he had spoken aloud. Then Gabe sipped his tea and, after a grimace, continued. “Tanner needs to know what’s going on since he’s staking his company’s future on this.”

Yeah, well, Marc knew what the women of St. Helena said about Hard-Hammer Tanner. He also knew that the guy was not only financially set, decent enough looking for a dude, and kind of ripped, he was—Marc froze, reassessing his earlier assumption—one of Lexi’s intended bachelors. What if he’d been checking out Lexi instead of Abby?

Oh hell no. There was no way Marc wanted Tanner’s tool belt stinking up the air when Lexi was around.

“Well, if sitting in as a celebrity judge is too much for you, man, I can just find someone else,” Marc said, standing and ready to show him to the door.

When he’d asked Tanner to help him out and fill the empty tribunal position, he hadn’t thought of how much additional time the former football star with mammoth biceps and a fancy Super Bowl ring would be spending with Lexi. He’d not only be nailing her walls and fixing her pipes, he’d be tasting her damn food, something that Marc had started to consider his job.

“You lose him and we lose half the ticket holders,” Gabe said, his voice full of exasperation and a little humor.

After word got out that Hard-Hammer Tanner was the celebrity judge, ticket sales exploded, and as of yesterday the Showdown was officially sold out. Not that it surprised Marc. Back when Tanner was in the NFL, he couldn’t walk down the street without being mobbed by locals and tourists. Retirement might have softened the fanfare, but he was still a beloved town figure, and if word got out that he was off the tribunal, Marc might have to start refunding some of those thousand-dollar-a-plate tickets.

“So take a seat,” Gabe said, his expression making it clear he wouldn’t continue until Marc did as he said. So Marc sat. And stared down Tanner, who smiled back.

“Seems that Saul Sorrento is getting a divorce and moving to Florida,” Gabe began.

“Holy shit.” Nate sat up. “What’s he doing with his land?”

“His kids aren’t interested in running it, so he’s going to sell,” Tanner supplied.

Nate smacked his hands together and did some stupid happy dance in his chair, knocking over Nonna’s statue of St. Christopher and nearly taking out his glass of wine. He was so wound up he didn’t even notice.

Not much got their tight-ass brother excited, but everyone in the room understood. The Sorrento family owned the largest parcel of virgin soil in the St. Helena appellation region. Used as a pasture for Saul’s organic cow and alpaca farm, it had never been planted on, meaning it was the perfect soil for a new vineyard. It was also the land that Geno DeLuca had been in the middle of buying when he’d won the hand of Miss ChiChi Ryo. Since Charles Baudouin had lost the girl, he made sure that Geno never got the land. But what started out as a way to stick it to a former friend had ended up making Saul owner of one of the most exclusive parcels of land in the valley. And he was finally selling.

“Wait.” Marc paused, taking in the way Tanner and Gabe were sharing a knowing smile—a smile that was usually reserved for him and his brothers. “What does that have to do with Tanner?”

“Saul and my grandpa play poker. The other night he asked if I wanted to take it off his hands.” Tanner’s lips twitched. “Even though he’s moving, he still has kids in the area and doesn’t want them to get caught in the middle of the great feud of St. Helena.”

“My thought was, we partner with Tanner and let him work as the go-between to secure us the land,” Gabe said, and when all three brothers looked at him like he’d just committed a mortal sin by including an outsider in family business, he added, “Or we go it alone, he lists the property, and the DeLucas and Baudouins continue to outbid each other until neither of us can afford it.”

Made sense. Between Abby’s missing dick and the millions he’d stolen, Marc’s money pit of a hotel, and the Pairing project, the DeLucas were low on liquid assets. Plus, Tanner had helped them out before when he didn’t have to, and saved the DeLucas from a major lawsuit. That still didn’t mean Marc felt comfortable bringing an outsider into the family business. Especially when that outsider knew nothing about wine.

“Let’s say we all agree,” Marc said, reminding everyone in the room that even though Gabe ran the company, their parents had set up the trust so that there had to be a majority vote from the siblings in order to go forward with a major decision like this. “What’s in it for you? I didn’t even know you liked wine.”

“I don’t.” He saluted Marc with his beer and a smart-ass grin. “Allergic to tannins.”

“Tanner isn’t interested in the land or the grapes. He wants to be the exclusive builder for DeLuca Wines,” Gabe clarified.

“If I attach myself to your family, it will mean I could lose a good chunk of the town’s business. And since most of the projects I want to take on revolve around wineries and wine caves, I need to know that I’ve got your chunk locked in, exclusively.”

Tanner was right; the second word got out that he’d assisted the DeLucas in swiping the land right out from under old man Charles’s nose, his alliance with their family would guarantee a complete and total blacklist for Tanner Construction from all future Baudouin projects.

Marc leaned forward, rested his elbows on his knees, and said, “Then why help us? You could just sit back, watch our families fight it out, and maintain a healthy distance from the feud.”

“I’ve got my reasons,” Tanner said, taking a pull on his beer. “One of them being I want my company to handle the construction on that new cave you guys are digging on the south property. I know it will be one of the biggest caves in the valley and that you’ve already received bids from two other companies. I help you get Saul’s land, and you help me move into the cave-building space.”

“And the other reason?”

Tanner leaned forward, mimicking Marc’s stance. “None of your damn business.”

“Fine. Let’s talk terms.” As long as it didn’t involve the exchange of a woman, Marc was willing to hear the guy out.





“Tanner’s here.” Abby’s eyes shot to the closed door, and she lowered her voice to a hiss. “In the front room. Drinking with my brothers.”

“I saw.”

“He wants to hire me to teach him piano.” Abby plopped down on the side of the tub as though she’d just imparted world-ending information.

“That bastard.” When Abby didn’t smile, Lexi joined her on the ledge.

Abby had never really dated all that much in high school. Her brothers made sure that any guy who looked interested learned how hard it was to look through a black eye. She had one heartbreak in high school, studied her way through design school, avoiding dating for the most part—until she met Richard. Which made Abby about as experienced with men as Lexi.

“Is that a bad thing?”

Abby blinked. “You have no idea who he is, do you?”

“Um, he’s the hot contractor wanted by every woman in town, and he’s hired you for a private one-on-one.”

“He’s the celebrity judge for the Showdown. His face has been plastered all over town. How can you not know this?”

“Gee, remodeling the bakery and trying to win that catering job has been a little distracting,” Lexi defended. She’d also been a lot distracted by her sexy neighbor.

“And there’s no way he’s getting a private lesson of any kind, because before Tanner tore his shoulder, he played for the Niners,” Abby explained, and when Lexi stared blankly at her she flapped her hands impatiently. “Before that, he played for USC and was one of the best running backs in college history.”

“So you can’t teach him piano because he played football?”

“I can’t be alone with him because, before college, Tanner was the quarterback for Napa High.”

“Get out.” Lexi slapped a hand over her mouth. She knew he looked familiar, but, “No! Way! Hard-Hammer Tanner, as in Jack Tanner, as in class of—”

“Stolen Saints mascot, yup.”

“He’s the guy who—”

“I stole our school mascot, stuck it in his truck, and got him suspended from the biggest game of his high school career.”

“No, I mean he’s the a*shole who—”

Abby slapped her hands over Lexi’s mouth. “Why don’t you just post it on Facebook and be done with it, that way we can be sure that everyone knows. Jesus, Lex, if even one of my brothers hears that, there is going to be a brawl the size of China in Nonna’s front room.”

“Can you get your hands off my mouth,” Lexi mumbled through Abby’s fingers. When she didn’t move then, Lexi stuck her tongue out.

“Gross, Lex. Grow up,” Abby said, grimacing, hand not budging.

“Says the girl convinced someone is outside the door listening.” She frowned. “And why do you taste like lasagna?”

“Don’t ask. And I forgot you’re an only child,” Abby said as though her grown brothers still made a habit of hiding outside bathroom doors. “I will remove them if you promise to be quiet.”

Lexi nodded.

Abby dropped her hands.

“Well, it obviously didn’t hurt his career all that much. I mean, you said the guy played in the NFL. Plus, he deserved it.” Abby might have framed him for a silly high school prank, but Jack had broken Abby’s heart.

After her parents died, Abby went into a deep depression, shutting out everyone. She was lost and scared and blamed herself for living when her parents hadn’t. Jack ran into her at the right time and sweet-talked his way into Abby’s kick-pants, then went to homecoming with another set of pom-poms.

“If I had known”—Lexi draped a supportive arms around her friend’s shoulders—“I never would have hired him in the first place.”

“He said he only agreed to do the bistro because he knew I was managing the project.” Abby’s body sagged. “What if he’s trying to ruin my life?”

“Over a stupid prank that happened ten years ago? I don’t think so.” Lexi pulled her friend closer, and Abby rested her head on Lexi’s shoulder, only she was so much shorter her head only came to Lexi’s chest. “Maybe he just wants to learn piano.”

Abby shook her head, and when she looked up at Lexi, she knew that there was more to the story. “He was one of the biggest investors in Richard’s and my vineyard.”

“Oh.”

“I didn’t know at the time. The money was a contact of Marc’s, and it came through Jack’s company, so I didn’t make the connection.”

“Until he came back to the valley?”

“No, until he told me yesterday. He said since I was a designer and he a contractor, that we were bound to work on more projects together in the future.” She shrugged. “He claims that he just wanted to clear the air.”

“Is he asking for the money back?”

“No. I told him that I didn’t know about him investing and promised I would pay him back, but he said he would rather have the lessons.”

“Maybe that’s just his way of saying he knows that you didn’t help Richard.”

Some people in town still believed that Abby had been in on the scam, and her moving to Santa Barbara only made the rumors more convincing. Which had been hard to take, since nearly all of the investors had been close friends and family. Not that her family believed she played a role in the embezzlement, but she lost a lot of lifelong friends over the situation.

Abby rolled her eyes. “A million dollars in lessons?”

“Oh.” That was a lot more than learning how to play “Chopsticks.” And trying to be a good guy or not, that didn’t sit right with Lexi. No matter how rich someone was, forgiving a million in exchange for music lessons sounded too good to be true. And in Lexi and Abby’s world, that meant it usually was.

“Yeah. Oh.” Abby sighed. “I just got the courage to divorce Richard. Now I have to sit in the same room with some guy who lost a bunch of money because of my inability to tell a thieving limp-dick from a good husband.”

“Maybe to him a million is pocket change. Have you seen his house? It’s bigger than this one.”

“One million is one million, Lex. I don’t care how many car and underwear ads the guy did.”

“He did underwear ads? Like tighty-whities, or those sexy boxer-brief ones?”

“Does it matter? Nonna invited him tonight as a setup. For me!” Abby dropped her head to her knees. “If you had given Jack a chance, I wouldn’t be in this mess and you wouldn’t be dating my brother, which by the way we are still going to talk about.”

“What did you tell him?”

Abby studied the grout. “That I had to think about it.”

A muffled voice came through the door. It was Trey. “Christ, man, I know this is all new to you, but give the lady some space.”

“Told you,” Abby whispered, wiping her eyes and standing up.

There was rustling as though some brotherly shoving and maybe a noogie was taking place on the other side of the door. Then Marc spoke. “She’s in there with Abby.”

“Doing what?” Trey sounded completely confused.

“Not playing spin the bottle,” Lexi hollered at the door, smothering a laugh.

“They’re either sharing secrets or they’re trying to sneak out the window above the commode again,” ChiChi said a moment before the door shot open.

Dressed in an apron that read Got Cannoli? and a pair of red kitten heels that cost more than Lexi’s entire wardrobe, stood ChiChi. Beside her was Pricilla, looking stunning in her teal slacks and a tucked-in David Hasselhoff T-shirt with a seascape of gems bedazzled around the neckline, making the ensemble evening appropriate. At least in Pricilla’s mind.

“We weren’t trying to sneak out,” Abby defended, standing up.

“Of course you weren’t, dear,” Pricilla said, stepping into the bathroom and sitting on the commode. She held a covered dish in her right hand and her crocheted bag of treats in her left. She was smiling and in arm’s reach of both Abby’s and Lexi’s mouths. Most grannies discouraged lying with a mouthful of soap; Pricilla believed more in the if-your-mouth-is-too-full-of-chocolate-the-lie-can’t-come-out method.

“That’s exactly what you told me the last time, right before Mr. Patterson caught you two skinny-dipping in his pool,” ChiChi accused.

Abby was about to say something when Marc peeked his head over ChiChi’s. “You went skinny-dipping?”

“The night she stole my car,” Pricilla added.

“I had on underwear,” Lexi clarified, forcing her shoulders back but failing to hide the embarrassment creeping up her face. “And I just borrowed it.”

“What color was the underwear?” Trey wanted to know, popping his head in.

Marc elbowed him in the ribs and saved Lexi from answering.

“She hasn’t even had dinner and you’re going to scare her away.” A petite woman with striking blue eyes pushed her way in the room. One hand was securely tangled with Gabe’s, and the other rubbed back and forth over her pregnant belly. “The DeLucas are still learning the concept of personal space and that a bathroom isn’t the place for a family reunion.”

“You’ll get used to it,” Gabe said right as Nate and Tanner came through the door.

“Is it true you’re shacking up with this guy?” Trey wanted to know. Marc slugged him in the arm, and Trey slugged back when Nate pushed his way into the room and between the two brothers.

“Leave the poor thing alone,” Regan said with a reprimanding swat to Trey’s gut.

“I never really knew,” Lexi whispered to Abby.

“Oh, this is nothing,” she whispered back. “Wait until one of them questions the other’s manliness. Then it is on.”

“Shame on you, Trey. Where are your manners? Sleeping in sin is one thing.” ChiChi shook her head and made the sign of the cross. “Making her admit it in front her grandmother is plain rude.”

Lexi felt the blush rise even higher in her cheeks. Did they know about last night? Making people think they were having sex was part of the original plan, but that was before they had done the pantry-floor shuffle.

Marc ran a hand through his hair. “Christ, Nonna—”

Pricilla shoved a summer fiesta cake ball in Marc’s mouth and scolded, “Language. Plus, I don’t think he’s eaten the apple.” Her eyes narrowed, assessing Lexi and then Marc before frowning. “Tart, pie, or strudel. What’s wrong with you, son?”

“None of our business,” Trey said in a mocking tone that had all the guys laughing. Well, all of the guys except Marc, who was chewing furiously. Cake ball or not, Pricilla’s summer fiesta was more of a three-biter.

Lexi’s chest went tight and her heart heavy at their ribbing. It didn’t bother her that they were laughing or that she didn’t get the joke. What bothered her was that Marc was somehow the butt of their fun. Abby was right, Lexi didn’t have siblings, didn’t know what it was like to be a part of a big family. But she did know how much it stung when the people you loved discounted your feelings.

“Um,” Lexi began, wondering if she should just tell them the truth and show Marc for what he was: a good guy who was trying to help a friend. “About that.”

Then everyone went silent, and she couldn’t speak past the nerves in her throat.

Silence stretched on. Awkwardness filled the room, mixed in with so much testosterone and Italian machismo that it was hard to breathe. Or maybe it was because everyone was looking at her, waiting for her to admit that they had had sex.

Lexi felt like she was on center stage, and her stomach started to knot. Even though they hadn’t had sex yet, Lexi was pretty sure that was on the menu for tonight. Not that she had told Marc she wanted him to sleep over, in the nakedest sense of the word, but she thought that the dress choice was a pretty good sign. And by the way he’d looked at her when she’d answered her door, he had gotten the memo.

“We’re taking things slow,” Marc interrupted, sending her one of his apologetic smiles and saving her from explaining things.

She smiled back. Lexi had never been comfortable around Jeffery’s family—not surprising when his mother took every opportunity to make it painfully obvious how lucky she thought Lexi had been to snag her only son. Never once, over all their years together, had Jeffery ever acknowledged her discomfort or defended her when his family started questioning why they hadn’t started a family, why they bought a house in New York, why he had married her in the first place. Yet Marc had picked up on her unease immediately. Not that she didn’t like his family; she just wasn’t used to having that many eyeballs zeroed in on her.

And Marc got that. He got her. Because he said, “Now everyone clear out so I can make sure my girlfriend isn’t going to pull an Abby and jump out the window.”

“I did that once!” Abby snapped, heading for the door in a huff.

“Twice,” Tanner mumbled, following behind her.

“Show her the plate, Pricilla, and then we’ll get out of their hair,” ChiChi said, taking off the lid and exposing a plate of food. Situated in three segregated piles sat ricotta, cooked noodles, parsley, and a steaming bowl of bolognese sauce that smelled like heaven.

“What’s that?” Lexi took in a deep sniff and groaned.

“Dinner,” ChiChi retorted, digging her meaty hands into her meatier hips.

“Shouldn’t it be”—Nate moved his hand as though tossing a salad—“mixed together?”

“Exactly!” ChiChi waddled out of the bathroom, and Lexi could have sworn she mumbled, right before she disappeared out of sight, “Deconstructed, my ass.”

Marc’s eyes went soft, silently apologizing for his family.

Regan stopped at the door and turned around. “You really will get used to this. I promise.”

Lexi bit down on her lip and nodded. Because Regan had said it as though there would be other DeLuca family dinners in Lexi’s future. A part of her wanted that, wanted to come here every Friday with Marc and share a meal with his family as though she was a part of this crazy bunch. The other part, the part that knew with family dinner and a future came the possibility for heartache, was scared. Because she was fast learning that although Marc tried to portray himself as a shallow playboy, there was nothing shallow about him. Even worse, there was nothing shallow about her feelings with regard to him.