Chapter 8

CHAPTER 8

LENNIE

I sat at my kitchen table, enjoying a glass of Barolo, and chatted with my mom, dad, and sister—while also keeping a close eye on Payton.

I'd offered to help, but Nonna told me to ‘butt out ' (one of her favorite non-Italian expressions) because she had Payton to help her. But really, I'd volunteered to help Payton. Not that he needed my help, of course. And I shouldn't have been shocked. Nonna and Payton hit it off right away, since neither of them had any filter. He'd handled my outspoken grandmother with a grace and charm that I found irresistible.

As much as I grumbled about my family's antics, I loved them more than anything. And anyone who appreciated them as much as I did warmed my heart. Fuck, the things I was feeling right now were damn dangerous. I'd already made a fool of myself over this man—at work and in Vegas—and now I was letting my emotions roll right over the warnings in my head.

I couldn't take my eyes off Payton as he moved around my kitchen like it was his own. The man lit up a room, and that was no bullshit. His wild hand gestures rivaled Nonna's, and soon they were arguing one moment and laughing the next. I was only half paying attention to the conversation going on around me, too enamored with the sight of my husband making my favorite foods with one of my favorite persons.

"…don't you agree, Len? Lennie?"

My mom's voice cut through my musings.

"What? Sorry, I didn't catch what you said."

"I said, your father and I are taking Nonna home to Verona in late July. You and Payton should fly over and join us."

"Uh, well, we've got the world tour starting soon. I'll see what the schedule is like. The European portion is pretty hectic, and we don't have many days off in between countries."

And Payton wouldn't be my husband by then, so it wouldn't matter. Fuck. I took another sip of wine. A big one.

Suddenly, there was the clatter of a wooden spoon banging a pot.

"Mangiare! It's time to eat!" Nonna declared. "Bella, Gulia."

My mom and sister got up and headed for the kitchen, helping Payton plate the food.

"What about me?" I yelled out. "Can't I help?"

"No!" Nonna barked in response.

Alrighty then. I glanced across the table at Dad, and he gave me a knowing look.

"What?" I asked him.

"You don't have to keep up the pretense, you know. It's okay."

"I—" I couldn't speak.

Dad shook his head. "I know you. And I know you're only trying to protect your mother, but you don't have to. She can handle the truth."

I looked across the room at Payton again, and when his eyes met mine, I felt my face flush. I glanced back at my dad.

"It's complicated."

"I can see that."

"We'd both been drinking," I confessed. "Payton was feeling down. I couldn't help trying to cheer him up, and next thing I knew, we were married."

"So, it was all a mistake?"

"No. I mean, yes," I blurted out. "I don't know."

At first, I thought it was. But now, I wasn't sure. I was so fucking confused.

"You need to figure it out. And lying to your family isn't going to help matters."

I nodded. "I'm sorry. But mom was so upset when I called her, and Payton didn't want to make things worse."

Dad reached over and patted my hand. "He's a good one. It'll be okay."

"I'm not sure about that. I think I like Payton."

"Well, you married him," Dad chuckled.

"I'm serious. I mean, more than like him," I confessed.

Dad slowly smiled at me. "Then maybe you should tell him that."

I nodded, biting my lip. "Maybe."

"Judging by the way he looks at you, I'd say he feels the same."

Payton was suddenly standing beside me, a steaming bowl of soup in his hands. He placed the bowl in front of me, gave my shoulder a reassuring squeeze, and headed back to the island.

Had he overheard what my dad and I were talking about? I started to sweat and pulled at my shirt.

Once everyone had their starter, we gathered around the table, Payton by my side.

Nonna raised her glass. "To Lennie and Payton and many happy years together. Salute!"

Payton clinked my glass, and I could only stop and stare at him as he took the first sip of wine. When he licked his lips, I so wanted to lean over and taste them. When I finally glanced up at his eyes, that spark of electricity snapped between us.

Both of us took another long sip of our drink.

"So, Payton. When are you moving in?" Dad asked.

Payton choked on his wine, sputtering and coughing. I gently patted his back.

"Sorry," Payton finally whispered. "Um, I guess, uh, later this week? I've got to pick up Finnigan first. Right now, he's staying with my friend Jaclyn."

"Finnigan?" Bella asked.

"My cat. He's a Russian blue. A beautiful boy, but he requires a lot of attention. And who knows how he's going to take to Lennie. He tends to swipe at strangers."

I scoffed. "If I can handle your claws, I can handle your cat's."

Payton's glare had me reaching for my soup spoon.

Eat, don't talk.

"You have pictures of him?" Mom asked.

Payton reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. He tapped it once and then passed it around the table. Payton was right. Finnigan was a pretty cat, and he looked content in Payton's arms. Lucky beast.

"So adorable," Bella gushed.

Nonna glanced at the phone, but her expression told me she wasn't impressed.

"I don't like cats in my kitchen," Nonna stated emphatically.

"Lucky for you, Finnigan will live here," Mom replied and rolled her eyes at me.

"We didn't have any pets when I was growing up," I explained, turning to Payton. "We weren't allowed."

"I have allergies," Mom added.

"Had," I countered. "You take medication now."

Mom shrugged.

"Remember the time when you were twelve and stole the neighbor's dog for the weekend?" Bella chuckled.

"What?" Payton laughed. "This I've got to hear."

"Lennie kept bugging Mom and Dad for a dog, literally hounding them for months, but like Mom said, with her allergies, it was always a no," Bella explained. "But Len didn't give up so easily. When Mom and Dad went away for the weekend for their anniversary, Lennie stole?—"

I coughed into my fist. "Borrowed."

"—stole our neighbor's dog," Belle finished.

"And the neighbor didn't notice?" Payton asked.

"Not until the next day," Bella explained. "They didn't have a fenced yard and the dog would often wander off."

"That dog wandered into our garden and ate all my tomatoes," Mom sighed.

Bella shook her head. "Anyway, by Sunday night, when the dog didn't come back, the neighbor came knocking on our door. Before we answered, I told Lennie to let the dog out via the back door, so the owner wouldn't suspect anything."

"I did," I added. "But the dog didn't want to leave our house."

"Not at first," Bella teased.

Dad leaned forward. "Gulia and I come back from our weekend away, pull into the driveway, and see the neighbor standing at our front door. We step out of the car, Lennie opens the front door, and this seventy-pound golden retriever comes barreling towards us, or more specifically, into Gulia. She's screaming about hives because the dog is all over her, the neighbor starts yelling, and Lennie is trying to explain the whole thing."

"And?" Payton turned to me.

"Grounded for three months."

"Ouch." Payton reached for my hand. Without hesitation, I interlocked our fingers.

"What about you? Did you get up to any hijinks when you were a kid?" I asked him.

"I was a handful, that's for sure," Payton replied.

"Was?"

He pinched my arm with his free hand, and I squeaked. Yes, a bodyguard hurts like everyone else.

"I was," Payton added. "I had a knack for sassing, so my mama did not have it easy raising me. Then there was the fact that I was fascinated with her clothes and makeup. I wasn't interested in looking like the other boys in my neighborhood. But she was always supportive of me, never questioning. I didn't need to have a reason for liking something, or for dressing a certain way, it just was. She loved me, for me. And lord, I sure do miss her."

I leaned over until my shoulder bumped Payton's. "She sounds like an amazing mom."

"She was," Payton whispered, his hazel eyes filling up. Then he blinked fast. "And she'd be thrilled that I've got a career and a life I truly love. We used to watch all the entertainment shows when I was a kid and throw our own award parties. And here I am, working for celebrities and rockstars."

"Tell me more about that, it sounds so exciting," Bella urged. "Lennie never shares anything about his work."

"You should stop by the studio sometime," Payton offered. "Meet the band. And the entourage of bodyguards. Are you single?"

"Oh yes. Extremely," Bella replied. "My last boyfriend was over a year ago. After four months of dating, I found out that he was cheating on me."

"Been there, dated that loser." Payton nodded. "Oh, you know who'd be perfect for you? Petyr, one of Lennie's colleagues. He's got a very dry sense of humor, so smart, not to mention freaking hot, and?—"

"Stop right there," I interrupted. "You're not setting up my sister with anyone I work with. Petyr, least of all. And hot?"

"Why not?" Payton raised one eyebrow. "And yes, he is."

Something like jealousy burned in my gut. Or maybe it was the spicy soup.

"But not nearly as hot as you, darling." Payton winked.

"The answer's still no," I grumbled.

"Ignore him, Bella," Payton continued. "We'll exchange numbers, and I'll arrange it."

"Payton," I warned.

"Lennie," he countered.

As I glanced into his eyes, I knew that arguing any further would be futile.

Lesson number one about being a good husband, even a fake one; no matter who's right or wrong, I'm wrong.