“Whatever. Just make sure we’re seated on opposite sides of the table.”
“Todd!”
He spins on his heels and stalks toward the house. I jog to catch up, and my hand is inches from his arm. My brother, Marco, approaches us from the other way, and I stop.
“Hey, guys!” he calls out.
He and Todd do that guy handshake and half-hug thing.
Marco embraces me in a warm hug.
“Hi, Marco.” I face defeat and wait for the fireworks that are sure to explode when Davis rings the doorbell.
* * *
Todd has been hidden away in the kitchen with Grandma. She shooed me and my mom out. The rest of us are jammed into the small family room. My four brothers, Marco’s girls, and my parents are all questioning what exactly is going on with Todd stashed away with my grandma in the kitchen.
“Todd doesn’t have some fetish for grandmas, does he?” Lucca elbows Bruno.
I narrow my eyes and disregard him. His joke doesn’t deserve a reply.
“What? No argument?” Lucca continues to bait me. “Maybe he prefers the younger version.”
I wish the heat traveling up my neck would stop with Lucca’s observation of Todd and me, but I should realize that nothing will stop his adolescent behavior.
“You know, like Mom!” He elbows Bruno again, but Bruno just rolls his eyes my way.
Unable to sit still, I linger over to the kitchen door.
Lucca is the jokester or want-to-be comedian of our family. We all know to disregard the majority of things that come out of his mouth. But that’s not to say that he doesn’t have us bending over in tears most of the time.
Finally, Grandma emerges from the kitchen, and I catch a glimpse of Todd through the doorway. Steam fills the small space, and Todd’s hovered over the stove.
“Keep on moving.” Grandma places her hand on my shoulder with a light push.
“Why is it such a secret?” I step forward as she demands.
“You’ll find out at dinner. Now, get going.”
The doorbell rings on my way back to the family room. My niece, Gianna, runs over and swings the door open.
“Gianna!” Marco screams.
I wave and tell him, “I’m right here,” which allows him to turn his attention back to the baseball game.
“Who are you?” she asks Davis, who’s standing in the doorway with bags of what I assume is wine.
“He’s a friend of mine.” I pat the girl’s head, and my fingers play with her long, dark hair.
She peers up to me with a puzzled look. “You have a lot of friends here today.”
“She does?” Davis asks.
I shake my head.
“I think Todd is more Grandma’s friend today.” I smile down to her.
She runs back into the family room.
I watch her go then turn back to Davis. “Come in.”
I wave my hand, and he steps through the doorway.
“Todd’s here?” he asks cautiously, like he has with our earlier conversations regarding my friendship with Todd.
“He is. I didn’t know he was coming, but I guess he and my grandma are cooking Sunday dinner.”
His face bears no smile, and suddenly, he’s fidgeting with the bags hanging from his hands.
“Here, let me take those from you.” I reach out to lighten his load and distract the conversation from lingering on Todd.
He happily hands me one bag. “Those are for dinner.” He raises one up higher. “These are gifts.”
“Aw, you shouldn’t have.” I place my hand over my heart.
He chuckles. “Sorry, beautiful. They’re bribes for your parents and grandma.”
We share a smile.
“Too nice.” I lean closer, cupping my hand over my mouth, as though I’m going to divulge the biggest secret. “You should’ve brought a keg for my brothers.”
“Nah. I’ve learned over the years, it’s the grandma and mother who count the most. If I can get their seals of approval, the dad and brothers will soon follow.”
“Have you now? How many grandmas have you had to win over?” I cock my eyebrow.
His hearty chuckle emerges again. “Not too many.” He winks and leans in closer. “Promise.”
I could clasp my heart and faint to the floor with the way his voice rapidly sends jolts of electricity through my body.
“Davis.” The distaste in Todd’s tone can’t be missed by anyone in the room, not even from Marco and Bruno.
They stand to attention right behind him, as though they’re his boys, ready to defend at all costs. If I had to guess, they’re there solely because of me. Todd’s uncertain disdain alerted everyone that a foreigner was on the grounds of Casa de Fiore.
“Todd.” Davis steps forward, outstretching his hand to the curious Todd. “You cook like a grandma?” he questions, the words printed across Todd’s apron.
Todd swings his arm around my grandma, pulling her small-framed body into his. “Today, I do.”
He looks down and winks to her, and a scowl forms across her face at Davis.
Great first impression to the one you need to impress the most, Davis.
“Mrs. Fiore, pleasure to meet you.” Davis places his hand out.
My grandma stares down to his outstretched hand, and my brothers snicker behind everyone.
I lean over to Davis, placing my hand on his shoulder. “Mrs. Mancini. She’s my mom’s mom,” I clarify.
His shoulder slumps in my hand. “I’m so sorry, Mrs. Mancini. I shouldn’t have assumed.”
He never draws back his hand, and I notice Marco’s eyes are fixated on it hanging in the air for my grandma.
She places her small hand in his and finally releases her smile. “Pleasure. You’re the cook I see on television, right?”
Just like that, Davis has won over my grandma.
“That I am. Davis Morgan.”
“You should join us in the kitchen . . . sometime.” She turns back around and hooks her arm through Todd’s to have him escort her back into the kitchen.
He glances back to me, a smirk across his face. I’m fairly certain he’s loving the fact that Davis messed up.
“I’d love to, but I don’t want to step on any toes,” Davis calls out.
“Don’t worry. Todd and I already made the gravy,” Grandma says.
I watch my grandma and Todd disappear through the kitchen door, and my eyes swing back toward Davis.
He follows before being stopped in front of the wall of Fiore Army that I call my brothers.
Oh, shit. I quickly see my brothers side by side like a united front.
By the time I can add anything, they’re all shaking hands with him and praising how much they love his show.
Really?
“You made it through us. Now, it’s the old man.” Marco clasps him on the shoulder then returns to the family room.
The boys disperse into different directions, and Davis looks over to me with a cocky grin.
I point to my dad, who is relaxed on his specific spot on the couch. He has the remote in hand, and his feet are propped up on the ottoman. The kicker is neither of these men have any clue what they are in for. I knew my dad would eventually warm to Todd because our relationship was strictly platonic. Not to mention, Todd is a guy’s guy. He can talk endlessly about cars and sports. Davis, though . . . I don’t know him well enough to know what he would have in common with my dad.
“Dad.” I walk into the family room with my hand in Davis’s.
“Lia,” he says without looking up.
Lucca chuckles in the recliner, intently watching the show to see what’s going to happen.
“This is Davis,” I announce.
My dad looks over from the corner of his eye. He must realize the situation because then his head snaps to us. His feet fly off the ottoman, and he’s standing faster than I thought he could move.
“Davis?” he questions.
Lucca is bent over, laughing, holding his stomach.
“Lucca, out.” My dad points to the doorway, and Lucca covers his mouth while leaving.
“Hello, Mr. Fiore.”
Again, Davis extends his hand, and again, a family member analyzes it for more than a second. Finally, my dad shakes it.
“Nice to meet you.”
Usually, my dad always immediately tells people to call him by his first name, but obviously, Davis has been placed in a different category.