“Don’t say that.” She hit his shoulder and then smiled. “I like this song. Makes me think of weddings.”
She started tilting her head back and forth to the music and began singing, even though Tino winced and said, “You’re butchering my people’s language. Stop that.”
She started singing louder, because she could tell it was genuinely getting under his skin, and Tino was a very hard person to irritate. He had always been agreeable about everything, but this was getting to him, and Brianna knew all the words. One of the jobs of the don was to go to all the family weddings. It kept things personable. It made people loyal, and since they were a big Borgata, there was always a wedding. He had no wife, so he brought Carina, who brought Brianna.
She had no idea how many Italian weddings she’d been to in her life, but it was enough to be able to sing “Funiculì Funiculà” passionately, with her hands, like she believed the words, even though she had no idea what they meant because she had taken French in school, figuring Carina had the Italian covered if they decided to travel the world.
Not that she did all that wonderful with French.
Brianna was a great dancer, but a horrible linguist.
“Oh my God,” Tino whispered. “This is not okay. I can’t unhear this.”
She started dancing as she sang, but screeched when he swept her up and tossed her over his shoulder. He took her from the sitting room into the bedroom, only the music was louder in there, like the room was right on top of the speaker, so when he dropped her on the king-size bed, she held out her arms and tried to continue the song until Tino clamped a hand over her mouth and whispered, “Never, ever do that again.”
Brianna cracked up and asked, “What’s it about, anyway?”
“It’s about a guy climbing a mountain with his girl and screaming from the top that they should get married.”
“Really?” She raised her eyebrows at him. “Is that what I was singing about?”
“No, that’s what the song is about. I have no idea what the fuck you were singing about.”
She giggled again. “Teach me, then. Teach me to sing it right.”
“Your mouth is so tense. You have to feel the words. Italiano is very sensual. It has to come off your tongue the right way, or you shouldn’t speak it. You shouldn’t sing it either.”
She relaxed her mouth by sticking her tongue out.
“Stop that.” He grabbed her face and squeezed. “Put it back.”
She stuck her tongue out farther.
Tino groaned, “Madonn’,” when she started singing again.
She tried to climb off the bed when he attempted to cover her mouth once more, but he caught her, trapping her against the mattress, using his weight to pin her. He didn’t cover her mouth again, but he started saying the words correctly against the back of her neck, and even though it always sounded like a playful, kind of silly song, the way he said it against her sensitive skin made it suddenly sexual.
He wasn’t exactly singing, but it was sort of like he was making love to her with the words, because Italian was like that. As he said, it rolled off his tongue sensually, but then the song was over, and it left Brianna feeling a little bereft, until the next one came on.
“Oh!” She turned in his arms and looked at him. “It’s Jersey Boys!”
“What the fuck is this doing on there?” Tino turned to look out the window like he was personally insulted. “Who makes these Christmas lists for him?”
“Dance with me,” she pleaded and hit his shoulder. “Please. This is my favorite musical in the whole world. I would die to be in it.”
“You are in it.” Tino looked to the window pointedly as the lights cast a green-and-red glow over the room.
“Put me in it.” She ran a hand down his bare chest. “Dance with me.”
Tino grabbed her hand and pulled her up and then spun her until her back was pressed against his chest. The two of them danced and sang and were ridiculously silly, because Tino was a great one to dance and be ridiculous with and Brianna needed that. If she didn’t have a partner she could dance around a room with, it just wouldn’t work. The whole Jersey Boys sound track played from the musical, which made the night magical, because Brianna had gone to see it five times since she’d moved to Manhattan.
When “My Eyes Adored You” came on, they started with Brianna singing to him, just looking up at him as the two of them slow danced, but then Tino cupped her chin and whispered, “No, my eyes adored you.” He pushed her hair away from her forehead. “Though I never laid a hand on you, my eyes adored you.”
“Oh.” She pulled back, because something about the way he sang it stole her breath from the emotions that welled up.