Total pages in book: 55
Estimated words: 51166 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 256(@200wpm)___ 205(@250wpm)___ 171(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 51166 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 256(@200wpm)___ 205(@250wpm)___ 171(@300wpm)
His head snaps up when someone yells, “Gio! Gio!” It’s Nonna Sofia, standing in the doorway, scanning the crowd for her grandson.
His devilish expression changes instantly to a warm smile as he rises from his seat. “I must go. See you later.”
“I don’t know how he does it,” Fiero says as his brother leaves. “I love Nonna, but I couldn’t work here with her every night.”
Matteo chuckles as I watch Nonna Sofia – all four foot, ten inches of her – tug at her grandson’s shirt sleeve when he reaches her, pointing into the building with her other hand, gesturing some directive to him.
Signora Bestia joins them, appearing to soothe her mother. Giovanni smiles through the whole exchange, respectful of the older women. Something swells in my chest as I watch. It’s not only the Bestia men I’m getting attached to. Their whole family tugs at my heartstrings.
More food arrives at our table, first pasta, then roast pork with a simple but amazingly delicious sun-dried tomato sauce. Salad follows, and just as I’m feeling full and wondering if I’ll have enough energy to go dancing after eating so much and drinking such good wine, Giovanni comes by with small plates of tiramisu for each of us.
It’s rich but impossibly light and creamy, and thankfully, delivers a potent kick of espresso that gives me hope for making it through the rest of the night.
The restaurant’s crowd has thinned during our meal, but Giovanni says he won’t be able to leave for at least half an hour, so Matteo suggests that we take a walk while we wait.
There are several people out doing the same, walking around the village, or seated at small tables or benches in the narrow streets, and many more people gathered in the town’s square. When there’s enough room, the men walk on either side of me, and we get a few strange looks from locals, whether it’s because I don’t look like I’m from here, or it’s unusual for one woman to be escorted by two men, I’m not sure.
I’m reminded of what Matteo said the night they invited me to come here, about everyone in the village knowing everyone else’s business. I’m careful not to touch either of the men, except for when I stumble on the cobblestones, so I hope no one is drawing any conclusions about our relationship.
We circle back to the restaurant, where Giovanni is dismissed by Nonna Sofia for the night. He offers to drive and we pile into his small car, with me in the front passenger seat. Though I wish I were seated in the back, cuddling with either Matteo or Fiero, I’m glad that I’m not, because I assume they also told their brother I’m just a friend, and any PDA would be inappropriate.
In fact, they must have told him I’m just a friend, or why would he be giving me the looks he’s been giving me?
I hear the dance club before I see it. It takes a while for Giovanni to find a parking spot on the narrow streets, if you can say there are such things as parking spots. Cars are wedged in haphazardly in a way that would yield endless tickets in the US.
We’ve driven about thirty minutes away to a town that seems much more touristy than the Bestias’ village. Inside, the club has three levels with different music playing on each floor, all with a throbbing dance beat.
Fiero offers to get drinks while the rest of us find a standing table at the edge of the dance floor on the top level. Two walls of the club are actually open to the night air, creating a comfortable cross breeze and explaining why the club’s sound carries to the next street over.
Not one woman passes our table without her eye being drawn to the sight of Matteo and Giovanni together. Once Fiero returns with cocktails, the attention they receive is multiplied. Who could not notice these three stunning, nearly identical brothers?
But while plenty of women offer them attention, the men – all three of them – only have eyes for me. Giovanni, in fact, is the first to ask me to dance. Casting a questioning look at both Matteo and Fiero that is met with small frowns, I let Giovanni lead me out onto the floor, where we’re quickly swallowed up by the crowd.
Problems
“Do you like to dance?” Giovanni’s words are warm against my ear. He has to lean close to be heard over the music. I try hard not to notice the delicious, spicy scent of him as it fills my senses.
I nod just as he slides an arm around my middle and pulls me close. Really close. So close you’d have a hard time finding any air between us.
His hold on me is firm as we start to dance together, and – oh, my god – the way he moves. If I hadn’t already been finding him nearly irresistible, this alone would have done me in.