Carina laughed. “You guys are killing me. Whatever happened to the happily-ever-after? The romance after marriage? The perfect relationship?”
The two friends shared a look. “Get over it,” Maggie advised. “Real life is messy.”
Alexa nodded. “You want a man who sticks—through the good stuff and the crap. ’Cause there’s a lot of crap.”
Carina studied them, all belly and discomfort and pissed-off female hormones. “Um, is it worth it?”
Maggie sighed. “Yeah,” she admitted grudgingly. “It’s worth it.”
Alexa beamed. “Definitely worth it. Now let’s talk about you. Any yummy stuff to share? Did you decide to take me up on my offer and move into my old apartment?”
Excitement shimmered up and down Carina’s spine. “Yes. It sounds perfect. I’ll move in in about two weeks. Keep Maggie from killing my brother for a while.”
“Thanks, sis.”
Carina grinned. “Welcome. I stopped at the La Dolce Maggie office and got a tour. Max is going to show me the ropes.”
“Max is the sweetest man. So charming and helpful,” Alexa said.
Maggie shot her a concerned look. “Is that a good idea, Carina? Do you think you can work closely with Max?”
Bull’s-eye.
Carina remembered three years ago when Maggie confronted her about Carina’s major crush on Max. Eight years older, and way out of her league, Max caused sleepless nights and crying jags over the proper way to finally get him to notice her. Maggie lectured her on living her own life on her terms first. But love was stubborn. No, it had taken that one unforgettable night to realize Max would never see her as anything more than his friend’s little sister. The memory of her humiliation shimmered before her, but Carina needed the jolt to go and find her own life.
She took a deep breath and faced her sister-in-law. “Yes,” she said firmly. “I’m fine working with Max.”
Maggie studied her face, then nodded. “Got it. Well, most of the crowd is probably waiting.” She braced herself against the arms of the chair and rocked herself forward. “Come join us when you’re done getting ready.”
“Okay, I’ll be down in a few.”
Carina lay back on the stuffed pillows and stared at the ceiling. Her entire life revolved around fighting for her place within the family among her gorgeous sisters and talented brother. It seemed everyone had a special niche, except her. Raw anticipation flowed through her blood at the thought of a fresh slate. Another country. A new job. A place to live on her own. The possibilities were endless, stretched before her like a gift, and she was tired of wasting those minutes on a man who’d never love her.
Marriage and settling down with one man was no longer her goal.
A hot-blooded, no-holds-barred affair definitely was.
Her skin tingled. Finally, she was freed from restrictions and intended to explore all of her sexuality. She’d find a man worthy of her and dive headfirst into a physical relationship with no hope of long-term commitment.
Bad girl.
Yeah. About time.
The thought cheered her up. She rolled from the bed, grabbed the red dress off the hanger, and went to change.
• • •
Max was enjoying himself. He often ate dinner with Michael and Maggie, and many times they were joined by Alexa and Nick. Comfortable hours filled with laughter and wine and relaxing reminded him of the endless evenings he spent with the Conte family in Bergamo. Mama Conte and his mother had grown up together and were friends as young girls, so when his father took off, Mama Conte adopted him and his mother into her own family. He always felt like a cousin rather than a good friend.
An itch crept up his spine. Oddly, he had more money than Michael but never wanted a penny of it—not unless it was earned by his own blood and sweat. Like a business transaction, his rich Swiss father swooped in and seduced the local Italian girl. They married quickly, and when the baby arrived, he deposited a nice fat check in her bank account. Then left for good. Max had never met his father, but his money garnered interest over the years. With no extended relatives, his mother needed the funds to survive, but Max choked on it and couldn’t wait to earn his own way. He didn’t want anything from a man who laid eyes on his newborn son and left without a glance back. A man who humiliated his mother in an old-fashioned Catholic town and forced them to wear the stain of abandonment and divorce.
No, Max didn’t care. He just swore to never bring shame on his mother or ever run away from responsibility. The sins of the father would not carry to the son.
He’d make sure of it.
Max freshened up his glass of Chianti, grabbed a piece of bruschetta, and turned.
Holy hell.
She came down the elaborate stairway with nonchalant grace, an easy smile, and a killer body wrapped up in fiery red. He’d never seen her in red before, let alone a dress. He’d only seen her in baggy clothes and T-shirts, her natural curves always hidden from view.
Not anymore. The scoop neck emphasized the lushness of her br**sts and the curve of her hips. Her dark curly hair fell around her shoulders and down her back, begging for a man’s fingers to thrust deep and disappear. Her lips were painted scarlet red, setting off the inky depth of her eyes.
She stopped in front of him, and the words of greeting died in his throat. He was so used to her looks of open longing. He realized she had a tiny crush on him years back. He’d always thought it cute, and quite flattering. Now, he held a sinking feeling she’d come into her own magical powers. Max had taken her flattering words, protectiveness, and admiring gaze for granted. Now, she treated him the same as the others. A sinking disappointment grabbed at his chest, but he firmly shook it off.
“Hey,” he said. Halfway embarrassed by the lame word, he reminded himself she was like his sister and that his last girlfriend had been actual royalty. “Can I get you some wine?”
“Absolutely. Chianti?” She pointed to his glass, and one curl slipped over her forehead and into her eye. The clean scent of cucumber rose to his nostrils, somehow more intoxicating than fake perfumes.
“Uh, yeah.”
“Perfect.”
He busied himself with getting her a glass and held it out.
“Thanks.”
Her fingers brushed his as she took the glass, and he swore he almost jerked back. The tiny buzz was subtle but still present. Exactly what he didn’t need. He shook his head hard and refocused.