Of course, more and more lately, Nonna had been spending time at Luc’s parents’ house on Staten Island. She liked to say it was because she wished to keep an eye on her daughter-in-law’s cooking and her son’s waistline, but Luc was pretty sure she did it to give Anthony and Luc their privacy.
Which Luc appreciated. There was something uncomfortable about bringing female company around for nighttime activities when your grandma was in the next room, just waiting to offer the woman biscotti the next morning.
Come to think of it, Luc should probably text his older brother and let him know that Nonna was in the house. It wasn’t unusual for Anthony to finish up his shift and come home with a female “friend” in tow.
Not long ago, it hadn’t been unusual for Luc either.
But recently he’d been in a bit of a rut. The whole “hero cop” thing had made him suspect all interested females of being groupies, and it had been too long since he’d felt genuinely intrigued by a woman.
Luc tipped back his beer bottle and tried very, very hard not to think of Ava Sims.
Nonna watched him out of the corner of her eye as she added salt to the pasta water, and then she turned and pointed a long finger at him. “I know that look.”
“What look?”
“You think I raised two sons and four grandsons and don’t recognize when they’ve got a woman on the brain? Who is she?”
“Nobody.”
Nonna sighed. “Just because you’re the baby of the family doesn’t mean I’ll let you get away with fibbing like your mother does.”
Luc lowered himself into the ancient wood chair at the tiny kitchen table. If having his grandmother for a roommate for the past three years had taught him anything, it was that the woman wouldn’t let up until she had her answers.
Neither would he get any of that carbonara until he’d thrown her at least a nugget to fret over.
Luc sighed and set his beer aside before leaning forward, resting his head briefly in his hands. She patted him on the head before settling into the chair across from him.
“Is she a looker?” Nonna asked.
Luc snorted and lifted his head. “It’s not quite what you think. There’s nothing even close to romantic going on, but…you know that godforsaken CBC story?”
“Don’t you go blaming the Lord because you’re a good guy and some tourist happened to catch that on camera and put it up on that Yoo-hooTube.”
“Well I’m more than happy to let God off the hook, because it just so happens there’s a very real-life person I can blame for the fact that I’m not able to put this circus behind me.”
“Ah, now we’re getting right down to it,” Nonna said, rubbing her hands together. “The Woman.”
“Ava Sims,” Luc said, his voice getting more irritable just by saying her name out loud. “She’s the main reporter assigned to the story, and she’s been following me around like the fu—freaking paparazzi for the past couple weeks.”
Nonna laughed and patted his hand. “So it’s like that then.”
“No, it’s just…I wish this whole thing would blow over.”
Even though I bought her flowers.
Her smile slipped a little. “Is it so bad then? Being rewarded for being an exceptional cop?”
Luc gritted his teeth to stop the instant denial. He wasn’t an exceptional cop.
If he were, Shayna and Mike would still be alive. But he didn’t talk about that. Not even with Nonna.
“Did I mention that Miss Sims and I have a history?” he said, knowing it would be exactly the kind of topic change that she would latch on to.
Nonna’s gray eyebrows lifted. “Did you fornicate?”
Luc choked on his beer. “Jesus, no. And there should be a ban against that word.”
“Don’t be prudish, Luca. So if you didn’t fornicate with this girl, how did you know her? Did she fornicate with one of your brothers? Anthony gets around.”
“I’ll tell him you said so,” Luc muttered. “And no, she hasn’t fornicated with any Moretti.”
At least he hoped not.
“Three years ago, I gave her a parking ticket.”
Nonna’s eyes went big. “No! Not a parking ticket!”