Page 76 of All Mine (The All Mine #1)

Isabella

She could feel the tears in her own eyes as Etienne and his brother hugged for the first time in four years.

They didn’t bother with the typical male back slaps and thumps, they just hugged long and hard, eyes shut with emotion.

Matched in size and shape as they were, they looked like two jigsaw pieces that mirrored perfectly.

Eventually they broke apart and Alex put out his hand to Etienne, his face serious.

‘Thank you, brother,’ he said, with a slight shake of his head. ‘I’ll pay you back. I mean it.’

Etienne grasped Alex’s hand and shook, slowly.

‘Fox and Walker, yes. Me, no. You’re worth every penny.’

They hugged again and a tear escaped down Isabella’s cheek. She sniffed and brushed it away as Etienne crossed to her, putting his arm around her shoulders.

‘Alex, this is Isabella,’ he said, and she loved the pride in his voice. ‘Isabella, this is Alex.’

They appraised each other. Isabella was fascinated at how two people with such a strong resemblance actually had very different individual features.

Etienne had the stronger jaw, the darker hair.

Alex was fairer and as he smiled at her, she noticed the blue of his eyes, compared to the glint of Etienne’s green.

‘Excuse the pyjamas,’ she said, self-consciously, still wearing shortie PJs with a hoodie of Etienne’s thrown over the top.

‘Sorry to bust in on your Sunday morning,’ Alex said. ‘Lovely to meet you.’

‘You’ll be seeing lots of her,’ Etienne said, pulling her in closer and planting a kiss on the top of her head. ‘You’ll be seeing her every day, I hope.’

Something fluttered in Isabella’s chest. She was still reeling with the events of the last few days.

The knowledge that Etienne loved her. The absolutely mind-blowing, earth-shattering sex they’d had.

The fact that he wanted her in his life.

It was more than she could have hoped for.

She wanted to experience things with him for the first time and sing karaoke with him at The Bolthole.

She wanted to share things with him, and learn things with him, and cheer from the riverbank when he won next year’s rowing race.

She wanted a future with Etienne Martin.

‘So can I stay?’ Alex was saying. ‘Until I get myself sorted out?’

Etienne slapped him on the upper arm.

‘Of course, Al. Although we’re also sharing with an eighty-year-old man for a few weeks, so it might have to be the sofa.’

A movement across the square caught her eye.

A glimpse of the back of someone as they slipped into the front door of Tutto Mio.

She gasped. She’d never forget that body shape or size.

She ducked out of Etienne’s arm and ran to the window, straining to see, but the front door of her restaurant slowly closed and blocked her view.

‘What is it?’ Etienne asked, peering over her shoulder.

‘I saw someone, I think– going into Tutto Mio!’ she said, already running. ‘You’d better come,’ she called over her shoulder as she tore across the square for the second time that morning in her shortie pyjamas.

Isabella ignored the calls from behind her, telling her to wait, telling her not to go in. She knew in her bones who it was, but she hadn’t expected to see him again nearly so soon.

She flung the front door open and she was right.

Her papà, standing beside a large rucksack, looking tanned and travel weary.

Her mamma too, rocking a new blunt bob and an oversized pair of sunglasses, cursing a late flight connection that meant they’d missed the opening of the restaurant.

Nonna was beside them, pinching cheeks and kissing them on repeat, and Isabella threw herself in between, to be engulfed in a family hug.

‘We were meant to be here yesterday!’ Mamma said, holding her away to get a look at her.

‘We were only pretending we wouldn’t make it– and then we didn’t make it!’ Papà said.

‘You’re here now!’ Isabella stuttered over the lump in her throat as she pulled them back in for another hug.

Her mamma was laughing and crying at the same time, smiling even as the tears ran down her face and into her mouth.

Her father was momentarily speechless, choked with emotion.

And she realised how much she’d missed them on their travels.

Their never-wavering love and support were always there, but a hug in person was worth more than anything.

The front door slammed again, and Etienne skidded into the dining room, carrying, of all things, an umbrella from his umbrella pot at The Bistro which he waved in the air. Alex crashed in behind him, brandishing another one.

‘Where are they?’ Etienne said, eyes darting to the corner, the bar.

‘Who?’ Nonna asked, looking around her too.

Everyone looked at each other in confusion and for a moment it was quiet. Then Mamma giggled and Isabella tipped back her head and laughed. Etienne and Alex slowly dropped their umbrellas and shot each other looks.

‘Mamma, Papà, this is Etienne,’ Isabella said, putting her hand out for him to join them. ‘And his brother Alex.’

Realisation flashed across Etienne’s face as he stepped forward and she put an arm around his back, leaning her head momentarily on his shoulder.

He extended a hand to her father first and Papà looked at it and then him, reading his face.

When he saw what he wanted in Etienne’s face, they shook.

It seemed a serious connection. A question and answer. A contract.

Etienne turned to her mother.

‘Pleased to meet you, Mrs Tucci,’ he said, extending his hand again. Mamma ignored the hand and pulled him in to kiss on both cheeks.

Alex filled the gaps left by Etienne and shook and kissed as if he were already part of the family.

‘Where were you, out in your pyjamas?’ Mamma asked and Isabella laughed when she saw the flush on Etienne’s cheeks.

‘Long story,’ she said. ‘It’s been a busy morning.’

‘Time for coffee and biscuits,’ said Nonna.

Which everyone– except Alex– knew meant rum, and soon they were all sitting around a table, chatting in Italian and English and hearing about Mamma’s experience swimming with a whale shark in the Maldives and Papà’s white-water rafting in Croatia, when Amber opened the front door to set up for lunch.

‘Amber!’ Isabella called. ‘Come and meet my parents!’

Amber approached, grinning already, and they all turned to her. Halfway across the restaurant floor, she stopped, dead in her tracks, and the smile died on her face. Her mouth fell open. Isabella frowned; Amber looked like she’d seen a ghost.

Glancing around the table, she saw the focus of her gaze. Alex. But the expression on his face was one of amazement. Their expressions could not have been more different.

‘Amber!’ He pushed back his chair.

‘You!’ Amber said, shaking her head.

Alex stretched a hand towards her and put one hesitant foot forward. Everyone else watched in confusion, not sure which way this was going to go.

Amber moved quickly, closing the space between them, and Isabella saw Alex’s eyes widen, a flicker of hope cross his face– before Amber slapped it off in a smack that echoed off the restaurant walls.

Alex put a hand to his cheek as Amber spun on her heel and headed towards the kitchen.

‘Amber!’ he said again but she put up a hand and carried on walking, her hips swinging exaggeratedly from side to side.

‘Never in a fucking month of Sundays, Alex!’ She banged open the kitchen door without looking back and let it swing shut behind her.

Alex made a single step towards following her, but Etienne put a hand on his arm.

‘Maybe later,’ he said quietly, nodding to the family audience. Nonna’s mouth was still open. Everyone looked from one to the other, trying to ignore the scarlet handprint on Alex’s face as he tucked his chair under the table.

‘I’d better go. I’ll see you later at home,’ Alex said to Etienne and excused himself.

Etienne stood.

‘I should probably go too,’ he said. ‘I need to open up The Bistro. Nice to meet you, everyone.’

Isabella felt a pull inside, not wanting him to go, especially after that drama. His eyes met hers.

‘See you later?’ he asked quietly and she was flooded with a relief that drove her to her feet to kiss him, softly, gently, repeatedly in front of everyone before he left.

Later that night, after a successful second day in the restaurant, Isabella crossed the dark, deserted square to The Bistro.

She’d tried to talk to Amber earlier, but her friend had ruefully told her it was ‘a story for a girls’ night, over a drink or ten,’ and she’d have to wait.

Maybe Etienne would know more. He might be able to fill her in. She laughed. In more ways than one.

Etienne had suggested she should stay with him on one of their endless messages during the day.

It made sense. Her parents could have her bed for the few nights they were here, before they took off again to see the vivid oranges and yellows of the forests in Japan.

With Nonna and Gabi there too, hers was a full house and she could think of no better solution than sleeping with Etienne. Or, hopefully, not sleeping with him.

The door to The Bistro was on the latch and she let herself in, allowing her eyes to adjust to the dark.

The only light came from a single candle at the table in the corner where he sat waiting. Her breath caught in anticipation. A nightcap and then bed, with the man she loved. She wished in that second her parents needed to stay longer.

Etienne’s long fingers turned the glass of whisky on the table, the ice cube glinting through the amber liquid in the candlelight. She slipped into the seat beside him and clinked her glass against his.

‘I need to talk to you,’ he said and the gravity in his voice stopped her glass between table and sip. Her breath halted in her chest; her heart paused. She lowered the glass without drinking.

‘I don’t want this to be a part-time thing,’ he said, and she heard her own exhale at the same time as her blood began to pulse again. Thank God.

‘I want you and me to be together for ever,’ he said. ‘Now that I’ve found you, I don’t want to let you go. I want you to be all mine.’

She reached for him across the table, but he kept his hand in his lap, watching her.

‘You’re everything I ever wanted but was afraid to look for.’ His voice was full of emotion, his eyes holding hers. He was mesmerisingly beautiful. She would never tire of looking at that face.

‘I love you, Isabella Tucci, and I want to marry you.’

She blinked, heard her breath hitch.

Now, he raised his hand from under the table and in it he held a black velvet ring box. He placed it on the table between them and carefully lifted the lid. The diamond flashed and she put her hand to her mouth.

‘Will you marry me, Bella?’

She swallowed and licked her lips that were suddenly dry as she took it in.

‘This was my mother’s engagement ring,’ Etienne said, tilting the box so that she could see it shine, ‘and it would make me the happiest man alive if you would wear it.’

The bells rang midnight in the square and he watched her as her thoughts raced and heart beat so loudly she could hear it. He was waiting.

She reached her hand over the table to the ring box, covering it briefly before shutting it with a quiet click.

He blanched, and she rushed to explain, before he took it the wrong way.

‘I love you, Etienne, more than I have ever loved anyone else.’ Even as she said the words, she knew they were true. There was no comparison to this craving, this need to be with him. She laced her fingers through his and rubbed the back of his hand with her thumb.

‘But sometimes, as we know, it’s good to wait for the things you want.’

His eyes were searching hers, looking for an answer, hoping for a future.

‘And I want to be with you for ever,’ she said, covering his hands with her own. He exhaled slowly, the beginnings of a half-smile lifting his lips.

‘So, how about a year of everything but marriage?’ she suggested and he raised an eyebrow as he considered the idea.

‘Define “everything but marriage”,’ he said, the glint back in his eye. ‘Just so I’m clear.’

‘What do you need to know?’ she asked.

‘Living together?’ he asked.

‘I’d love to,’ she said.

‘Committed to each other?’

‘Exclusively,’ she said.

‘Planning a future together?’ She knew her smile had turned into a grin.

‘Definitely.’

He held her eyes and then nodded.

‘Tutto Mio?’ he asked, his eyes shy as he said the Italian words.

‘All yours,’ she confirmed.

‘And in a year?’ he asked.

She bit her lip, but only to stop the excited laugh that was bubbling there, but it escaped anyway.

‘Then I’d love to marry you.’

He laughed and raised his glass.

‘One year.’

She lifted her glass to his and they clinked gently together as their eyes met and held.

‘One year.’

They drank their toast and came up smiling.

‘Only you, Bella, would come up with a plan like that.’ He blew out the candle and stood.

He pulled her from her chair, lifting her until her legs were wrapped around his waist, and started walking towards the stairs, holding her up.

She twined her hands around his neck as he mounted the stairs one by one, carrying her with him to bed.

She had the man she loved in her arms and between her legs and things were only going to get better.

‘Right, let me show you exactly how good not being married can be,’ Etienne said, kicking open his bedroom door.

‘Looking forward to it,’ she said, twisting her hands in his hair and smiling when he growled.