Lucca's Lust: The Luminara Series Book 3 (31 page)

Mamma smiles, watching me watch Lexi so devotedly.

“So you really like this girl. You have fallen hard. It is lovely to see you smile again. I cannot remember the last time you looked this happy. I am so pleased for you, honestly,” she says, swiping a piece of lint from my shoulder before straightening the top button on my shirt. She always fusses around us, but for an easy life, I let her do it. I love her … she is my mamma.

“Thank you. I am glad you both like her. I am head over heels, deeply in love with her. So deep, I feel like I am losing myself in her … or to her I should say. I never knew it could feel like this or be this good, and so quickly. It feels a little surreal at times,” I say, sipping on my drink, looking over her shoulder to admire my girl.

“Si, love is a wonderful thing. You make sure you treat her properly and like a gentleman. Now, I would love to see you settle down soon. Then I will only need to get your sister off our hands,” she says with a hint of sarcasm.

“Do not hold your breath for that. She will never settle down.”

“We all said the same thing about you, and look at you now.” She turns around, casting her eyes towards Lexi.

“Yeah, about that. If there is any woman I would love to settle down with, it is Lexi. God, she is so special, but do not scare her off by being forward or impatient. This is all new to her, and a little overwhelming. She needs time to adjust to our new relationship. Everything is happening so quickly,” I say, straightening my sunglasses before sipping on my drink.

Mamma is extremely impatient. Obviously, I inherited that trait. Papa keeps her grounded most of the time, but he is a sucker and normally gives in to her. He cherishes her, even her impatient and pushy nature.

She laughs and swats my shoulder. “Lucca, out of all my children, you are the most impatient of all.” Her eyes brim with cheekiness.

“I learned from the best. Seriously, Mamma, please just let me do this in my own time and do not overwhelm her,” I add, narrowing my eyes telling her I am serious.

“Okay, for you, my dear son. Anything and because I love you dearly. I am just very happy you have finally found someone and brought a beautiful sweet girl here to our home.” Smiling, she inhales with enthusiasm. I roll my eyes. God, I hope she does not drive Lexi crazy by fussing over her. Besides, I want to fuss over her. I am not sure I am ready to share that yet.

“I wanted to mention to you, Donita called yesterday. Francesca is back, did you know?” she adds. My brow knits into an almighty frown.

I have not heard from her in a long time. Why would I know that? We lead completely separate lives now. She has not been my responsibility for a long time. I do not need to keep tabs on her.

“No, I did not. Have you seen her?” I ask, because I do still care for her, despite our distance, and I like to know how she is doing health wise.

“Not yet, but Donita tells me she is doing very well. I just thought you should know.” She motions for us to join Lexi and Papa again.

I nod and thank her but do not comment further. It is not like I am going to drive over and visit her, especially not with Lexi. If I were here on my own, then I would visit her, but it seems inappropriate now. I am thinking more of Lexi. I know if she was to introduce me to an ex, I would be riled with jealously. But then again, I am possessive, especially when it comes to her.

Orianna shows up, bursting with excitement in that girly way she does. Kissing me near to death, she introduces herself to Lexi. After she has almost traumatised my girl, I scold her for not being at home and at work.

Mamma corners Lexi by asking them both if they want to go shopping. Adorably, Lexi looks too shy to say no, but it pleases my mamma and Orianna to no end that Lexi bashfully agrees. I will need to make it up to her later.

Once they have left for Petrucci’s, the designer outlets, I call Marco and ask him to come over to look at the progress of my papa’s extension. After spending some time with my papa in the extension and talking to my Italian contractors with Marco, we catch up on all my other business.

It is coming on great. This space will be a grand ballroom and function suite. Papa heads off to check on the guests while Marco and I go over a shitload of work before catching up with Paulo, an old friend of ours who works for my papa.

A short while later, Papa interrupts us to sheepishly advise me I have visitors in the lounge waiting to see me. I share a glance at Marco, leaving him to get on with more than a few hours’ worth of work.

Papa pulls me aside in the lobby to advise me Donita, my mamma’s best friend, has unexpectedly shown up with Fran, her daughter. He prepares me before I enter the lounge. Fuck, what is she doing here? Lexi will be back soon and I do not want her to be placed in an awkward position. This is not how I expected today would go.

Entering the lounge, Donita and Fran both stand. Donita offers her arms to hug me. I welcome her and ask after her while Fran remains perfectly quiet and still. Years of raw emotion, anger, frustration, betrayal, love, hurt, abandonment, and grief simmer away at the mere sight of Fran. It just makes my past seem so real and here in the present.

I walk over and embrace her with a double cheek kiss and a short but friendly hug, not too overly familiar but friendly enough. She wears a smart red dress, possibly from her own line of clothing, and she looks well. The familiar smell of her perfume infiltrates my senses.

Fuck! This is difficult.

Other than being apprehensive and reserved, she seems healthy. The last time I saw her she was black around the eyes, painfully thin, and looked gaunt. She is still slim but does not carry the same grief and pain in her face.

Donita excuses herself and says she will catch up with Papa while she waits on Mamma’s return. I nod but do not remove my eyes from Fran, gauging what sort of mood she will be in or what she wants. They are blank … almost passive.

Once Donita leaves, there is a long silence. She barely moves, let alone breathes. I take her hand and sit on the sofa with her. Breaking the ice, I ask how she is in Italian. Our chat is formal and pretty much generalised. I ask about Milan, she asks about Osurac and the family.

I walk over to the drinks’ cabinet and pour myself a finger of good Scottish malt, realising it is probably not a wise choice, but I need something to numb me. It is overwhelming seeing her here. I offer Fran a drink of her choice, but she refuses alcohol. Instead, I open a bottle of sparkling water for her and pour it in a long glass.

Taking a seat again, I refrain from holding her hand. I grip the crystal tumbler with both my hands and sip it slowly. Changing to English, I ask how long she is saying and what made her come home.

Learning she is back for a design conference at the university, I nod. I am glad she is pursuing her career in designing. She is good at it and it gives her focus.

“Are you seeing anyone?” she asks, fidgeting with a bracelet on her wrist.

Wow, where did that come from? In a sudden panic that Lexi will be back at some point, I need to tell Fran about her. I want to tell her, but I was not sure how to approach her regarding it. Now she has given me an opportunity to tell her.

“Yes. I have met someone. Lexi … she is well, she is special to me. Actually she is here with me, so you will get to meet her. She is out with Mamma and Orianna just now,” I say as assuredly as I can, without being inappropriate.

“Oh … I see. How long have you been seeing her?” she asks before sipping her water.

“Not long, but she makes me extremely happy and I would very much like to have a future with her,” I add.

Fran turns her head, sighs, and stares at the open fireplace. I reach for her hand, clasping mine over hers in a respectful way.

“I guess I am happy for you, then,” she says flatly.

“Look, Fran, I know this is not easy on either of us, and we have been through a lot, but I cannot put my life on hold any longer and waste my future. I need to move on, as do you. We are not getting any younger. Lexi, she is a remarkable woman. I think you will like her, if you give her a chance. I need someone in my life and Lexi … she is …” I stop when I see her bristle and feel her hand tense under my hold.

“I know … I know. It is just a shock to hear of you being committed to someone. I think I always thought you would never truly settle down. If you are happy, then I am happy for you,” she says, finally turning back around to face me, a tear running down her cheek.

Fuck!

I lift a handkerchief from my pocket and hand it to her. She fights back the tears threatening to spill … I know her, she is upset but trying to mask it.

“Do you mean that? Truly mean it, because I would love your blessing. You know how deeply I care for you and how I will always have a deep connection to you, so I would very much like you to be happy for me. It would mean a lot, and the last thing I want to do is upset you, or cause you any more pain. We need to be realistic and adults about this Fran. Lexi is my life now and I very much want a future with her,” I say, searching her green weepy eyes with sorrow.

She smiles, wipes her tears, and straightens up releasing my hand.

“Yes, I know and I am happy for you. I have only ever wanted you to be happy, and if this woman gives you that, then you have my blessing. I respect you for being honest with me.” She seems to have switched ever so quickly from being vulnerable to being assertive and convincing.

A tug of empathy pulls inside me, and my heart constricts. She is giving me her blessing, even though this must be cutting her to fucking pieces and she is already wounded enough. I pinch my eyes closed, rub my temple trying to stave off an impending headache.

“You really are something. I cannot tell you how proud I am of how you are handling this. You seem to have more of your old self back,” I say, sitting back, crossing my leg over the other, stretching my arm across the back of the sofa.

“What do you mean by that?” she snaps.

Shit, I have offended her, and it was not intentional.

“What I mean is you seem more spirited and enthusiastic again, not as distant as you were for a while.” That is the most diplomatic way for me to say she does not sound suicidal or angry. She seems to have found some sort of peace.

“I am doing better. Look, I do not want to talk about my past behaviour. Tell me about your new girlfriend.” She diverts the subject as I think it causes her embarrassment.

“She is Scottish, lives near me actually, and is a physiotherapist.” I refrain from telling her she is my angel, breath-stealer, love at first sight, my dolcezza, beautiful, and everything else in-between as it would be highly inappropriate.

“That is great. I am sure we will get on and I will like her,” she says, upbeat. I cannot make my mind up whether it is forced or not.

“So, tell me more about you. Are you seeing anyone?” I ask because we should be able to share these things, and it would not bother me if she was. In fact, I think it would be good for her.

“Yes, I have but nothing serious. My work comes first.” I see a sparkle in her eyes. This is good. It finally means she is moving on.

Understanding, I nod. “Did he treat you well?” I ask curiously, because Fran needs someone who can take on all of her issues and past burdens. And as much as I am not in love with her, I still want what is best for her. I would like to know that she is being well looked after. It would kill me to think she is unhappy or is being used.

She smiles broadly. It is the first real smile I have witnessed since we sat down.

“Yes he did … still does, but he works a lot too. We are good together when we get the chance to be together. We both travel a lot,” she admits.

That stings like a bitch. It reinforces what a prick I was when we were together. I worked far too much, travelled too much, and never truly put Fran first. It upsets me that she has fallen into a similar relationship of sorts with someone else. She deserves to be happy. I wish she would find someone who can give her that.

“Mamma and I were at Papa’s and Gabriel’s graves today. I noticed you have not been. There were no fresh flowers down.”

I always make a point of visiting my son’s grave when I am home in Tuscany, but I have not had an opportunity since being with Lexi. I want to go and I will make a point of it, but it is not exactly the type of date I want to take Lexi on while she is on holiday. Although going by her latest displays of sympathy and kindness, I think she would understand and would not object.

“No, I have only been back a few days. I will be staying longer than I hoped so I will be visiting as much as I can while I am here. I will take special gifts. I lit a candle for him in the chapel the other day at Castello di Brolio,” I say quietly, dropping my head. I feel a nervous, sharp pang deep inside me. It is difficult having this chat with Fran face-to-face, especially as she has never been willing to talk or be open before.

“Gina never said you were there. I spoke with her last night,” she says nonchalantly.

Why would Gina not say I was there? Or did she and told her all about Lexi? Is that what this visit is about? Is Fran still screwed up and came here deliberately today to meet her and see with her own eyes I have moved on? I am about to question her about it because I find it strange that Gina never mentioned anything, but I notice she is fully crying now, covering her mouth with her hand.

“Hey, come here. Are you okay?” I ask her softly.

Turning her around, I cup her face in my hands, using the pad of my thumb to wipe her tears. Her shoulders rise and fall, and it hurts me to see her like this. I cannot remember the last time she cried in front of me. Maybe this is a sign she is recovering, because she is able to demonstrate her emotions. Before she was so closed and frozen she barely even had any facial expressions.

I cannot help but think it is four years too late. Why could she not let her emotions show before? I never knew what she was thinking, and now I am not sure how to comfort her. It is awkward and difficult, but I do not want to allow her to go through this emotional barrage alone.