Page 293 of The Havenport Collection

Sam

A s much as I knew I should be pulling away, I was spending every moment I could with Gio. My treatments started in two days, and he was heading to France for some wine convention for ten days on Friday.

I kept telling myself that the Band-Aid would pull itself off, and I should just enjoy these last few moments. But my mind was spinning.

We spent every night tangled up in one another, and our days consisted of enjoying the summer weather. I kept convincing myself that I could have one more day, one more night with him.

Denial was not, in fact, a river in Egypt, but a happy, sexy place in my brain that I had become very familiar with.

So after a yoga class, I decided to stop by and see if I could tempt him with nudity and ice cream.

I found him in his woodshop. One of my favorite places.

The smell of sawdust tickled my nose as I observed him. It was not a large space, but he had it very well organized. Every tool had its place, things neatly arranged in a controlled sort of chaos. A Bluetooth speaker played classical music—probably Beethoven—in the background.

I leaned against the wall, admiring him in his tight T-shirt and jeans. He was so sure of himself here, his movements precise. I watched as he carefully sanded down a piece of wood, his forearms flexing with every stroke.

Watching him work was a lot like watching him dance. He possessed a quiet confidence and an unexpected grace for a man his size.

I admired his lack of self-consciousness, and frankly, it was a turn-on to be with someone so competent. When Gio focused on a task, he executed it with precision, especially in the bedroom.

“Hey, Gorgeous,” he said, removing his safety goggles and coming over to kiss me.

“I came to see if you wanted to get some ice cream,” I said, giving his ass a quick squeeze through his jeans.

His smile lit up his face. “I missed you too. And yes,”—he patted his flat stomach—“as much as I should say no, I can’t possibly pass up my second favorite thing to eat.” He winked at me and wiggled his eyebrows, clearly indicating that I was his favorite thing to eat.

“Let me get cleaned up. Do you mind if we make a quick stop on the way? My Nonna has been nagging me about a loose step on her porch. I need to check it out so I can buy wood next time I go to the lumber yard.”

He leaned over and tipped my chin up, stealing a messy kiss. “But I promise you, I will make you come at least three times for your troubles later.”

I giggled. I wasn’t sure my body could take it. Last night and this morning had been…intense.

Our deadline was looming and it hung in the air between us. Along with all of the things we had left unsaid. I think we both knew it. I needed to spend every second with him that I could, enjoying the magic between us.

I couldn’t bear to think about what was next. So I threw myself into the moment and into Gio. And he was more than happy to oblige.

“Damnit, Sam,” he said, adjusting his jeans. “Now I’m hard again.”

I stuck my tongue out at him. “Not sorry.”

“I have to go see my grandmother.”

“Oops.” I giggled and reached out, trying to undo the button on his jeans.

He grabbed me by the shoulders and pulled me close, nipping at my earlobe. “I am so going to punish you later for this.” He kissed down my neck to my collarbone. “If you tease me you have to deal with the consequences.”

I shivered. I loved consequences. Particularly when they involved spanking. “Promise?” I said in a sexy voice.

He shook his head at me. “I’m getting in the truck now before you can do any more damage. Give me a minute to calm down before you start parading that sexy ass around. I’m not as young as I used to be; I can only take so much.”

Gio steered his truck toward the north side of town to a very tidy looking bungalow with window boxes overflowing with colorful flowers. The lawn was lush and green, and a variety of shrubs and plants flowered invitingly.

Growing up, his grandparents had lived in a big house near the harbor, but this tiny cottage suited Nonna Rossi perfectly.

Tiny, ruthlessly maintained, with no detail neglected.

“This is a gorgeous home.”

“Oh yes. And Nonna will never leave it. Christian once suggested she get a condo and you would think it was a four-letter word. She hit him with a wooden spoon and threatened to put a curse on him.”

We were interrupted by the sight of the lady of the house in the doorway. Clad in orange athleisure wear with matching kicks and a pair of reading glasses hanging from a jeweled chain, she was every inch the terrifying Italian grandmother.

“Georgio,” she said, opening her arms and pinching his cheeks, “it’s been so long since you visited me. I have so much for you to do!”

“And Samantha.” She embraced me with a kiss on each cheek. “You look lovely, dear. I’ll put some tea on for us. We can have girl talk while my Georgio gets to work.”

She narrowed her eyes at him and mumbled something in Italian. His face turned pink as he trudged up the steps with his toolbox.

Upon entering, she handed him a small slip of paper covered in loopy script.

He nodded as he perused it. “Nonna, I can’t do the gutters today. I don’t have a ladder with me.” She looked up at him and raised an immaculately penciled eyebrow.

“I’ll come back. Or I’ll send Matteo while I’m away,” he said sheepishly, heading to work on his to-do list.

“Men are happiest when you put them to work,” she said, bustling around the kitchen. “My Georgio has a lot of things on his mind; that’s why I always give him projects.”

She placed an intricate teapot on the table, and I leaned forward to study it.

“My mother brought it over from Italy. That,” she said, pointing to the earth-toned cityscape painted on the side, “is my village.”

“It’s beautiful,” I said, unsure of how to respond.

“I only take it out for honored guests. I am so sorry to hear about your health problems, dear.”

Here we go. I gave her a tense smile. “Thank you.”

“But I expect you don’t want to discuss them with me.”

She wasn’t wrong there. “Um…well,” I stumbled.

“Trust me. I’ve had my share of scares over the years. And then when I lost my Domenico, I didn’t want to talk to the entire town about it. I wanted to handle my business and deal with my feelings.”

I found myself nodding vigorously.

“So I understand.” She poured me a cup of tea, and I sat silently, watching her graceful movements, so much like her grandson.

“Thank you. It’s not that I don’t appreciate all the kindness. I truly do. I just…I’m still coming to terms with all of this, and I hate having to answer everyone’s questions and let them process it. I have to process it first.”

She waved a hand. “Say no more. But know one thing. There are many people here who love you and are willing to help if you are just willing to accept it.”

Her eyes flicked out the large window over the sink to where Gio was standing on the deck, studying the steps.

I took a minute to observe him, standing with a pencil behind his ear. Strong and capable in problem-solving mode. I liked this side of him.

She pushed a plate of chocolate-dipped biscotti in my direction and gave me a knowing smile. “So now we can talk about something actually interesting. Your relationship with my grandson.”

I almost choked on my tea. I had forgotten how forward she was.

“I’m old; I don’t have the luxury of time to beat around the bush. So let’s get to it.”

Horrified, I stuffed a biscotti in my mouth, hoping to buy myself some time.

“Now I love all my grandchildren. But Georgio and his siblings…they struggled when their putana mother left them. I don’t care how old you are; being abandoned by your parent scars you for a long time.”

I held my breath.

“I know you understand.” She patted my hand gently.

People rarely talked about my father. It was not a secret that he had wanted nothing to do with me, or that his wealthy family had tried to force my mother to have an abortion.

But it was still jarring. Most of the time I forgot I had a father, but she was right.

I knew what it was like to be abandoned by a parent.

“And I want them to be happy before I die. And trust me, I am working hard to make it happen. You have no idea the lengths I had to go through with my Nora. Stubborn as a mule that one. The Rossi curse—pigheaded argumentative women. We all are. It’s genetic, sadly.”

I sipped my tea politely, afraid to contribute to this conversation. “I’m not sure what this has to do with me,” I offered, attempting to play dumb.

Her eyes narrowed. “Don’t bullshit me, dear. Like I said, I haven’t got the time. We both know you two are in love with each other. When are you going to get your heads out of your asses and figure it out? I’m not getting any younger and neither are you.”

I felt defensive. My feelings were complex, and I still didn’t know where Gio stood on all of this. All the love and admiration in the world wouldn’t make a difference. Our lives were different. We were different people.

And at our age, we were pretty much settled in life.

We knew what we wanted and weren’t going to compromise.

I had decided a long time ago that my life was outside this small town, that I belonged somewhere else, doing important things and changing the world.

For better or worse, that was who I was.

And while, yes, the life I had made for myself was lonely at times, I did it— I lived my goals.

And that wasn’t something you just threw away on a whim.

“He would do anything for you,” she said softly.

“You sound like my mother,” I snapped, losing my cool and instantly regretting it. I might be tired and scared and frustrated, but I wasn’t going to take it out on an old lady, no matter how sharp her tongue.

Nonna laughed. “Your mother is a smart, capable woman. I am flattered we are of the same mind. And she loves you and wants what’s best for you, thus you should listen to her.”

I rolled my eyes like a teenager. “She makes her feelings known.”

“Do you have any idea how much easier everyone’s lives would be if they listened to their mothers and grandmothers?” She pounded the table with her fist, rattling the heirloom teapot. “Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. I’d be tripping over great-grandchildren right now if anyone actually listened to me.”

I laughed. She was so fiery. For an eighty-something she sure had a lot of energy.

“Gio guards his heart. He was close to his mother and felt her abandonment acutely. He will never say it out loud, but he felt responsible for keeping his siblings in line and put a lot of pressure on himself. He has built a nice life for himself. He is a caretaker. Doing everything for everyone, myself included. But he needs a partner. Someone who challenges him and takes care of him for a change.”

I nodded. She wasn’t wrong.

“And I have thrown every eligible woman in a hundred-mile radius at him. Trust me, I’ve tried.”

I stiffened. I didn’t love talking to Nonna about her efforts to set him up with other women. I could feel the jealousy pool in my gut.

“But,”—she grinned—“I’ve realized after all these years he’s been holding out for you.”

I knew she was right. Gio had told me as much. But hearing it from his grandmother made it all seem so much scarier. Why did this have to happen now? There had been so many times over the years. So many moments where I thought it would happen. Moments frozen in time, where the stars aligned.

The past few weeks had revealed the chemistry and affection between us, but that didn’t mean there was more, there was something sustainable.

He had been clear and direct. He wanted me, and not just for a fling.

But the thought of more sent me into a panic.

I couldn’t give him forever. And I didn’t know where that left us.

Because, like me, he liked his life. He was at peace with his choices. And I was not going to weigh him down and hold him back. We had an agreement, a deadline, and it was only because I cared about him so much that I knew I had to enforce it.