Chapter 34

Pulling into mydriveway, I put the car in park and thud my head against the steering wheel. I scream in frustration. I don't want this life anymore. Cara has been blowing up my phone, but I don't want to talk to her. I don't want to talk to anyone right now. After a few minutes, I get out and lock my car and slowly trudge up the front steps of my porch.

"Do you always scream in your car, tesoro?"

I freeze. Am I imagining his voice now? Did I hit my head too hard against the steering wheel? Have I finally hit rock bottom and am conjuring up his voice in my head?

The porch swing creaks as he stands, and he walks into the light. He's wearing a black wool overcoat, a white button-down, and jeans. He looks so damn good, but his expression is cautious. I fling myself into his arms, and he catches me easily. I breathe in his woodsy, familiar scent and silently cry in his arms. I'm home, right where I belong.

"Are you real?"

He gently puts me down and holds my face in his hands, his thumbs wiping away the tears tracking down my cheeks. "Yes, I'm real." He smiles. "I've missed you so much."

"What are you doing here?"

"I had some business to take care of at our farm here."

"Oh." My heart drops. He didn't come for me. He's here on business. I gather myself together and take a step back, the initial shock of seeing him wearing off. "How did you find out where I lived?"

"It was on your paperwork." He grins sheepishly. "I hope you don't mind me showing up on your doorstep."

"How long have you been sitting out here? It's cold."

"About an hour."

"Why didn't you call me? When did you get here?" I unlock the front door.

"Tonight. I came straight here from the airport. I wanted to surprise you."

I shake my head. "I'm so sorry, you must be freezing. Come in."

I forgot how tall he is as he enters my small foyer carrying his luggage. I turn and shut the door, soaking in the sight of him. He runs a hand through his hair and the familiar movement makes my heart pump harder. I wonder if he's as nervous as I feel. He looks around my townhome, tucking his hands in his coat pocket. Thank goodness Barbara is on a weekend retreat with her AA sponsor.

"I can't believe you're really here. Can I get you something to drink?" I wipe my hands on my pants and do a quick survey of my small living room to make sure Barbara doesn't have a bra hanging out somewhere. "I have water and some diet coke."

"Water, please. Grazie."

He sits down on my sofa while I dash into the kitchen. I grab a bottle of water when my phone buzzes with an incoming call from Cara.

"Girl, what the hell happened tonight? My friend Jill said you dumped a drink on some guy. I lost you in the crowd—" she shouts over the noise at the bar.

"He's here," I hiss.

"Who's there? The guy from the bar?"

"No! Lorenzo. He's in my living room."

"What?" Cara screeches.

"I'll call you tomorrow."

"Call me first thing in the morning."

I hang up with her and walk back in, handing him the bottle. I sit down in the chair perpendicular to him. He uncaps the water and takes a sip.

"How long are you here for?" I ask.

"A couple of days."

"Oh."

"Summer—"

"How have you been?" I ask, feigning cheer while I try like hell to override the hurt in my heart. In the light, I can see dark shadows under his eyes.

"I'm miserable," he says.

"Why?"

He snorts and looks over at me as he leans forward and puts his elbows on his knees. He scrubs his face with his hands. "Mi chiedi perché? Because I can't stop thinking about you. It's been six agonizing months. I've been consumed with work, and yet you interrupt my thoughts every minute of every day. You're the first thing I think about when I wake up and the last thing before I fall asleep, if I even fall asleep. Sto impazzendo e non riesco farci niente. I'm going crazy and I can't fix it."

"You haven't called or texted in months."

"I know, and I'm sorry, tesoro. I had to forget about you for my own sanity. I forbade anyone to mention you, but everywhere I turned, there were pieces of you left behind. I couldn't even go to the old tree to think without memories of you wrapping around me. Even damn Razzo has been following me around, meowing at me like he's cussing me out for letting you go. Fiore is furious with me, and Nonna hasn't talked to me in months.

"I swore to myself after Gabriella I would never let another woman get under my skin and make me lose control of my heart. When she and I parted ways, it broke something inside of me I thought I'd never be able to repair, so I threw myself into work. It worked until you showed up, out of the blue…a stray cat like Razzo."

He shovels his hands through his hair. "I wanted to be mad at you for moving into the house, but Nonna Rossi is always right when taking in her lost little strays. She had a plan the minute she laid eyes on you. Her anger toward me about buying the house was all just an act. Nonno had left it to me in his will, but not until Nonna was ready to sign it over to me. She agreed the house needed a major overhaul. But one glimpse of you, and she knew we were scritti nelle stelle."

"Written in the stars," I whisper.

He nods. "From the very first day, I couldn't keep my eyes off you or stop thinking about you. When Angelo started sniffing around, I went nuts. He liked the challenge you presented. Nina was too easy and willing for him. Did Fiore tell you he slept with Gabriella?"

I shake my head, a sick feeling churning in my stomach.

"Right before we broke up, she and I had a terrible fight. She ran right to him, knowing it would hurt me. I've never forgiven either of them for that."

"I never should have had dinner with him," I mutter.

"You didn't know, tesoro." He looks at me with sad eyes. "I am angry with myself. I should never have let you go. You made it clear you were always leaving, so I tried my damnedest to not get attached. I thought I was doing the right thing for you. I should have come here with you. Selfishly, I wanted to lock you in the house and throw away your passport so you could never return to the States, but I knew I had to let you go. It was the hardest thing I've ever had to do that day when I walked away from you. I should have told you I wanted you to stay, and I was in love with you. Ti amo, Summer. I'm so desperately in love with you, I can't see straight."

The anguish on his face breaks my heart apart. "Ti amo, Lorenzo. I wish you had told me all of this that day. I wanted to stay, but I thought making a clean cut was for the best."

He nods. "I was un codardo…a coward. I thought I had more time. During Ferragasto I was going to ask you to stay, to move to Italy and be with me, that I was in love with you and couldn't let you go."

"I wanted to stay."

"You needed to go. Family comes first."

A tear slips down my cheek. "You weren't the only coward. I should have told you how I felt, but I was scared to lay my heart on the line."

He looks down at his hands. "Are you happy, Summer?"

The truth bursts from me like a dam breaking. "No. God no, I'm fucking slowly dying inside. Like I'm walking around, going through the motions, but not feeling anything. I don't fit into my old life anymore. You've ruined that for me. Italy has ruined that for me."

"I'm so sorry, tesoro. I know the feeling well."

I get up from the couch and slide onto his lap. He sits back, his hands squeezing my thighs as his breath shudders.

"I've missed you, Ren. More than I care to admit. I've been walking around here for months, a shadow of my former self. I love you, but I can't do this all over again."

"I was hoping you would say that." His fingers flex against my waist. "Because I can't walk away and leave you behind again."

My lips brush against his, and my heart sighs in contentment. Like a key fitting a lock, it opens the door to home. He sucks my bottom lip, gently biting it. "I've missed you so much, amore mio."

Our kisses start slowly, our lips remembering the tastes and texture of each other, savoring the feel of us being together again, but that only lasts a minute before our desire takes over. Our tongues tangle greedily as I rock against him, my fingers driving into his hair. He lifts my silk blouse over my head, and his hands immediately circle my rib cage as his thumbs glide over my satin bra. He kisses the swell of my breasts, unhooking my bra. His mouth closes over my tight bud, and I arch into him. He lavishes it with his tongue as I rock into him, creating a delicious friction between our bodies.

"Ren, take me to my room," I pant. He caresses the other breast and I'm about to explode. I can't take this slow torture. He stands, still holding me, and I guide him down the hall to my bedroom. He turns to close the door, and that's when he spots the painting hanging on the wall across from the bed.

"I was wondering if you kept it or trashed it."

"I could never have trashed something so beautiful. Something you created from your soul."

"I wouldn't have blamed you if you had." He brushes a tender kiss across my lips before lowering me to the bed. He yanks off my pants and sheds his clothes. He pauses a moment, his gaze igniting my blood as he holds himself over me. "Sei squisita."

"Non sei male neanche tu." I smile up at him, telling him I find him exquisite as well.

"Tesoro, have you been learning Italian?"

"Mmm, I might have downloaded an audio app."

"Ti amo, Summer."

"Ti amo, Ren."

I wrap my hands around his hard length and slowly pump him up and down. He hisses out a breath. "If you keep doing that, it will be a disappointing ending for me as I'm about to come all over myself like a teenager."

I laugh, but quickly sober, as he puts on a condom and guides himself into me.

"Wait," I say, feeling suddenly panicked. "Are you sure this is what you want?"

"Summer, I don't know if you've figured this out yet, but I'm not letting you go." He rocks into me slowly, and I feel every damn inch of him. I arch my back as his thumb draws tight little circles over the sensitive bundle of nerves at my apex. He moves faster, and I want to savor this feeling, but I can't stop the tidal wave from crashing down around me.

I wrap my legs around his waist and meet his thrusts. He speaks to me in Italian, and I explode into a thousand pieces as I cry out his name. He increases his speed, his pace becoming erratic, his muscles straining as he holds himself over me. I squeeze his tight, toned ass and scrape my nails down his back.

"O dio!" he shouts as he comes. We lie there motionless for a moment as we try to catch our breaths, tangled in each other's limbs. He smiles down at me and kisses my lips. "Incredibile."

"What were you saying to me when I orgasmed?"

His cheeks pink. "Just some silly Italian words. It was nothing."

I grin. "My interest is now piqued, Mr. Rossi. Spill it."

"Don't make me say it out loud, tesoro. I was in the moment."

I walk my fingers across his chest. "But I love when you talk dirty to me in Italian. What did you say, Ren? I can always ask Nonna—"

He side-eyes me and sighs. "Lo adoro quando vieni sul mio cazzo. I love when you come on my cock."

"Molto bene." I grin. "Was that so difficult?"

"Only when you bring Nonna up during sex."

I laugh and throw the sheets off. "I've missed you, Lorenzo Rossi."

He grabs me from around the waist and I squeal as he pulls me back to bed, smothering me with kisses. He brushes his nose gently against mine. "I've missed you more, tesoro."

We clean up and brush our teeth, grinning at each other in the mirror like a pair of loons, before climbing back into bed. Lorenzo holds me in his arms while I trace small circles on his chest. We both stare at the painting hanging across from us.

"How come you didn't tell me you were an artist?" I ask.

He shrugs. "It's not something I tell many people. I stopped painting when my grandfather died. I had to take over my father's position and Nonno's. I didn't have the time or desire."

"That's right around the time you and Gabriella broke up, too, isn't it?"

He squeezes me. "Sí. She was angry my father was taking a step back from the company, but he was having stress-related heart issues. He didn't have a choice. I need you to know…" I look up when he pauses, and he visibly swallows as he tries to control his emotions. "The olive farm is my heritage, Summer. I will admit, I wasn't fair to Gabriella. I knew who she was when I started dating her, and that I wouldn't be able to give her everything she wanted, but I was hoping we could meet in the middle. That love would be enough for her.

"At the time I had the weight of the world on my shoulders. I felt like I had to prove myself to my father, brother, and Nonna that I could run the business. The farm consumed me. Late nights, long hours…I wasn't much of a doting fiancé. I chose the olives over Gabriella. After we broke up, I swore to myself I'd never do that again if I met the right woman."

"Perhaps the right woman wouldn't ask you to choose," I murmur.

"Mm…I'm afraid in business, it always comes down to a choice…a decision to be made which takes you away from your family." He gently grabs my fingers, kissing them. "It's different with you, tesoro. I found myself rushing to be done with work so I could get home to you. I started taking walks during phone meetings in the hopes I might run into you." He smiles that coy smile. "I never wandered down to the shop before you started working there. I was…I am completely smitten with you. I don't want to lose you again. Ti amo, piccola gatta randagia."

I snuggle against his chest, feeling the happiest I've ever felt. "There's that randagia word again."

"My little stray cat." He kisses my head, and I smile.

Afraid to ruin this moment but needing answers, I shift up onto my elbow and gaze down into his smoky gray eyes. He looks exhausted, but I won't be able to sleep a wink if I don't ask.

"Ren, where do we go from here?"

His eyes slide to the painting. "I made my choice, Summer. I chose you and I'm here. If that means running the California farm, then so be it."

My breath catches, my heartbeat accelerating. "But that would mean you would give up the farm? Give up Italy?"

"Sí, not give up per se, but hand it back over to my father and Gio to run."

"But your father—"

"He's already agreed, tesoro." His gaze shifts back to me. "I know what I'll be leaving behind. This is what I've been working on since you left. You are more important to me than the olives."

I trail my fingers down his chest. I should feel elated, but I don't. My heart is heavy. He'd be willing to give up his birthright, his legacy, to move here for me? He would leave his family, his home, and the beauty of Italy all for me. And what would I be giving up? I think of my job I no longer enjoy. I think of my mom who, despite being sober for four months now, still struggles with addiction. I think of Cara and Damien, who I would miss terribly, but realize that being a constant third wheel isn't ideal for their marriage. They have their own life together. I have my townhome, but the view in Italy is way better.

"No, Lorenzo."

"No? You don't want me here?"

"No." I shake my head. "I can't let you give that all up for me."

"Cara mia—"

I press my finger to his lips. "You are too important to me. I'd never ask you to give up the olive farm, to give up Italy, to give up your promise to your Nonno Rossi. I know what it means to you. These past few months, I've been walking around, a shell of my former self. I don't feel like I have a purpose anymore, and that terrifies me more than anything."

"But if I'm here with you, that will make you happy, sí?"

"No. If you're here with me, that means you gave up everything, and I would feel incredibly guilty. You have so much more to lose than I do." I sigh and shift, giving us some space. "There are some things I haven't told you. My mom—"

"I know about your mom, tesoro."

"How do you—"

"Nonna told me she's an alcoholic."

"Yes," I breathe out, relieved to have it out in the open. "The reason I had to return to the States so quickly was because she was involved in a drunk driving accident. She's been in rehab, but was recently released back into my care. It hasn't been easy, but we're navigating it together. I was embarrassed to tell you."

"Why?"

"Because your family is so wholesome and good and…mine is a mess."

"I'm so sorry you felt that way, tesoro. You are the only thing that matters to me. I could have been here for you. I thought…Gesù, non vuoi sapere cosa ho pensato."

"No, tell me. I want to know everything."

"I thought you were making excuses to leave Italy. That we were moving too fast, that I was too intense."

I caress his cheek with my fingertips. "No, never. I was falling apart at the seams. Our relationship was the only thing holding me together. I needed your comfort and strength, but I was ashamed. Your family is so strong and united. Barbara and I are the exact opposite."

He sits up on his elbow and runs his fingers through my hair. "What happened with the accident?"

"Thanks to Cara, we had an excellent attorney and lucked out with a lenient judge. Because it was her first offense, he gave her probation and community hours. Her sponsor helped her find a job bagging groceries at a local market. It hasn't been ideal, but she has to start somewhere. She and I have always been a million miles apart, running in opposite directions, but we're trying to meet in the middle."

"I'm glad she's trying."

"Me, too. I think the accident really scared her."

"I'm not leaving you again, tesoro. I'm staying right here."

"No." I take a deep breath, gathering courage for what I've known since I left. "I want to be with you, Ren, but not here in California."

He's silent for a beat. "What are you saying?"

The decision feels scary, but also comforting. "I'm saying I'll move to Italy. I'm not sure what I'm going to do there, and I'll probably have to figure things out with Barbara after her probation period is over, but—"

I yelp as he lifts me into his arms and kisses my lips. "You've just made me the happiest man on earth, tesoro."

I smile down at him. "I'm so happy you're happy. Ti amo, Lorenzo."

"Ti amo, Summer." He brings the comforter over our heads, hiding us from the world for just a little longer as we make love again, our connection unbreakable.