Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 84219 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 421(@200wpm)___ 337(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84219 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 421(@200wpm)___ 337(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
I let out a burst of laughter. “You’d love that, wouldn’t you?”
He nods. “If it were up to me, you’d never return to the apartment.”
I was going to tell him later, but now is as good a time as any.
“I’m handing the keys back to the landlord tomorrow.”
Franco stops eating and locks eyes with me. Slowly, a smile spreads over his face. “So you’ve moved in with me?”
Giving him a grin, I nod. “Yes. You’re officially stuck with me.”
Abandoning his food, he gets up, and walking around the island, he frames my face with his hand and kisses me hard. Lifting his head, he says, “You’ve just made me the happiest man in the world, baby.”
Chapter 43
Franco
Watching Samantha open box after box is a sight to behold.
When the men offloaded the truck, she was so happy she actually clapped her hands.
“Ohhhh, this is my grandmother’s hand mirror. She got it from her grandmother,” she says with nostalgia coating her words.
We’re sitting in the middle of the foyer with her belongings scattered around us. From the looks of things, it will take us a couple of days to unpack and find a spot for everything.
She pulls a framed photo from the box and hands it to me so I can see. “This was taken on my first day of school.”
I look at the little girl, who’s the cutest child I’ve ever seen. “Why do you have three ponytails?”
She shrugs. “Back then, I thought it looked pretty.”
When she takes a shoebox out, she grins at me. “Oooh, all the love letters I received.”
“Give that to me.” I grab it from her before she can hold it out of my reach, and taking the lid off, I open the first piece of paper. “Your hair looks like candyfloss?” I let out a chuckle.
“Don’t laugh. Pete was serious. He even tried putting my pigtail in his mouth.”
I open up another one. “If I give you a Hershey’s bar, will you go steady with me?”
Samantha grins at me. “I told him I wanted a Hershey’s bar once a week. It didn’t last long.”
I shake my head. “I think it’s cute that you kept them all.”
“Look at this one.” She leans forward and searches through the letters until she finds the right one. Opening it, she points to where the letter ends with the words in dots.
“I’m running out of ink, but I’ll write again when I get a new pen.”
“That’s my favorite.”
As we keep working through the boxes, I learn Samantha had a happy childhood.
And, she never throws anything away.
“Time for a break. We can continue tomorrow.” Getting up off the floor, I stretch my body before holding my hand out to help Samantha to her feet.
I head to the kitchen and ask, “Want some coffee?”
“Yes, please.”
She watches as I pour two cups, and when I hand her one, she asks, “Can we sit on the veranda?”
“Sure.”
I follow her past the mess in the foyer, and as we head through the living room toward the sliding doors, I see the men scatter in every direction.
“They don’t have to do that,” Samantha says. “I’ll never get used to them if they keep hiding whenever I come outside.”
She sits down on one of the chairs. “Tell them to come back.”
I pull my phone out of my pocket and dial Marcello’s number.
“Yes, boss?”
“Tell everyone they don’t have to clear out when they see Samantha.”
“On it.”
She sips on her coffee as the men resume their places, and not long after, Marcello walks toward us.
“I thought I’d check your hand while you’re out here,” he says, placing the first aid kit on the table.
“Sure.”
When he removes the bandage, I notice she doesn’t cringe.
“I’m going to remove the stitches,” he says.
A smile curves her lips. “Today is turning out to be a pretty good day.”
I watch as Marcello removes the stitches, and when he’s done, she says, “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
I take hold of Samantha’s hand and inspect the scars before pressing a kiss to her palm.
“All better,” she sighs as she relaxes in the chair.
While her attention is on the garden, I stare at her and whisper, “Christ, you’re beautiful.”
She turns her head to meet my eyes. “I’m glad you think so.”
“I know so.”
We’re quiet for a moment, then she asks, “What’s your favorite memory from your childhood?”
I think for a moment before I answer, “The day I met Renzo. We took one look at each other and decided we were best friends.”
A soft smile plays around her mouth. “How old were you?”
“Eleven.”
“Wow, twenty-four years is a long time.”
I nod, and letting out a chuckle, I say, “The fucker told everyone you called me your mystery man. I’m never going to hear the end of it.”
Samantha bursts out laughing. “Why did you tell him?”
“I knew he’d get a kick out of it.”