Chapter Nine

Rational thought disappeared, and Sophia pressed both hands to his chest. His very sturdy, sculpted, and warm chest. Heat emanated through the cotton T-shirt, and the steady thump of Declan’s heart underneath her palm kept her tethered to the moment. Everything else fell away. She sucked in a breath, like she was prepping to dive into the ocean.

When his mouth touched hers, she decided she was fine with never surfacing. His hand in her hair tightened, and she gripped his shirt in her fist, angling her head and going up on tiptoes. His lips were soft and insistent, teasing and tormenting at the same time. His large hand cupped the back of her head, holding her steady as he deepened the kiss, letting his tongue dance with hers, seducing her and pulling her in. Pulling her under. At almost thirty, a kiss shouldn’t feel like mini-explosives being detonated along every inch of her skin.

But this one did, and she wanted more.

Wrapping her arms around his neck, her knees almost buckled when he made a noise somewhere between a moan and a growl, and his other hand slid down to her ass and pressed her closer. If someone hadn’t knocked at that exact moment, Sophia likely would have climbed him like a love-starved kitten.

Declan pulled back in slow degrees. It gave her time to wonder what she was thinking. You weren’t. You were feeling, and you know where that road leads.

She felt like her legs had melted into the floor, and she was scared to move in case they didn’t work properly. He watched her, his eyebrows scrunching and a frown tilting his delicious lips. She shivered, still able to feel them against her own.

“Whatever you’re thinking, stop.”

She tried to act nonchalant, but her bones were liquid, so it wasn’t like she could hold her head high. “Someone’s at the door,” she said.

“Sophia,” he said, a husky whisper that rippled over her skin like his hands.

The knock came again. She moved back with more force, and he dropped his hands, staring at her. When his gaze traveled her body, her stomach leaped and her pulse tripped in uneven beats.

“Come in,” Declan said gruffly.

Lisa poked her head in, looking back and forth between them. Sophia’s brain still felt foggy from the feel of Declan’s mouth and hands on her. Lisa’s irritated expression cut through some of it. But not all.

“I signed for the liquor order. They’re unloading now. Hope I didn’t overstep,” Lisa said.

Sophia stopped herself from rolling her eyes. If Lisa had wanted the position Sophia had just filled, it was understandable that she’d feel resentment. Schooling her own features, Sophia pasted on a professional smile. Not everyone was going to like her.

She gave Lisa a quick once-over, trying to be objective. While she dressed nicely and seemed younger than her age with blond hair pulled up in a flirty ponytail, her features bordered on severe. Like her sharp cheekbones and glare could cause bodily harm. Sophia wondered if Declan thought she was pretty. He obviously did at one time. But it shouldn’t matter. She was here for a job. To restart your life. She’d walked away from Keith, her job, and her pretty little apartment in Arizona, claiming she’d kept her pride. But maybe it had been dented more than she thought.

“Of course you didn’t overstep. I’m sorry you’re feeling upset, Lisa. That was never my intention,” Declan said, meeting the waitress’s gaze.

Sophia admired the way he didn’t hedge around the issue. He was straight up and to the point.

“I appreciate that,” Lisa said, not looking at Sophia. “Anyway, it’s getting busy out there.”

Declan sighed. “I’ll be right out,” he said, his voice soft.

She nodded, glanced at Sophia, then looked up at Dec. “No problem, honey. Just thought you’d want to know.”

When she shut the door behind her, Sophia had to put effort into unlocking her jaw. Her stomach was tipping toward nauseous again.

Declan turned back to Sophia immediately. “Sophe.”

She couldn’t do this. What was she thinking? Attraction and a mind-bending kiss weren’t excuses to put reason and reality aside. Irritation warred with the desire to curl up into him, but she was scared to lean on anyone. Especially Declan.

She’d just pulled over on the shoulder of this very road—hot, charming guy, coworker, smooth talker. She’d narrowly escaped a long-term crash. Being with Declan would destroy her like a semi slamming into a Mini Cooper. There’d be no coming back from him.

“I need to go. Do you mind? I won’t do it often, but my parents are both home today, and I need to go see them. I’d rather not do it at Pop’s.”

She kept her eyes on the ground and stared at his feet when he came closer. Just hold it together a little longer. She could fall apart later. In private.

“Look at me, dammit,” he said. He didn’t touch her, which was the only reason she was able to breathe.

She glanced up through lowered lashes. “Yes or no?”

“Yes, of course you can go. No, you can’t pretend this didn’t happen.”

“We need to. I’m not looking for a good time, Declan. Not with anyone and least of all with you. No offense.”

He put his hands on his hips. “How the fuck can I not take offense to that?”

Sophia glanced at the door and moved away from him, grabbing her purse. “It was just a kiss. I’ll see you tonight.” It surprised her how badly she wanted to stay right there with him.

All the more reason to go. She tried to scoot past him, but he grabbed her wrist, pulling her around. “If you don’t show up at my place tonight, I’ll come looking for you. We’re not letting this go, Sophia. And regardless of what you think you know about me, tonight, I’m going to set you straight.”

She nodded because she did not want to cry in front of him. Even as a kid, she’d preferred feeling mad to sad, so standing on the ledge of tears so often lately was more than a little annoying. Her throat was impossibly tight. The desire to burrow into him was far too strong.

Declan touched her cheek, and she closed her eyes. “And babe? If that was just a kiss? I’ve been doing it wrong all these years.”

He stalked away from her, leaving Sophia staring after him. She took a few deep breaths and easily reminded herself that she had far bigger things to worry about than Declan James and his magical mouth. A wave of heat washed over her body at the memory as she pushed open the back entrance of the bar and walked into the frigid air. It only cooled her down on the outside.

…

Sitting in front of her parents’ house, the home she’d grown up in, Sophia took another long drink of her water. No matter how much she drank, nothing eased the dryness in her throat or the heaviness in her chest.

Stop stalling.

She got out of the car and walked up the paved drive toward the modest two-story Cape Cod-style home. Though her parents could have upgraded their residence, moved somewhere larger and more luxurious, they’d never been tempted.

Sophia’s father, Mario, was a big fan of being happy with what he had. Sophia didn’t fault him for that, but she thought he’d missed a lot of opportunities. More than once, they’d been given the option to expand the shop or open additional locations, but Mario Strombi wanted his family working under the same roof. Except for Sophia, he’d gotten that wish. She couldn’t help wondering how her dad would respond to Marcus’s announcement.

Sophia used to think that her parents would have gladly bought a larger home if they thought all their children and their families would move in. Her siblings found it odd that Sophia needed her own space. Was it really so crazy to have a little breathing room?

Even as she thought that, ringing the doorbell, she was surprised when Viola, instead of their mom or dad, opened the door. Viola’s jaw dropped, her dark eyes going wide.

“Dio mio,” Viola whispered.

Sophia gave a short laugh. Her sister couldn’t just say oh my God in English. There wasn’t enough drama in it. Standing in the doorway, her nerves clattered around like banging pots and pans. Viola just kept staring, shaking her head, until Sophia couldn’t stand it any longer and pulled her into a tight hug.

Her sister was older, taller, and more generously rounded than Sophia, though they shared the same long, thick black hair and dark eyes.

Rocking side to side, she breathed a sigh of relief when Viola squeezed her hard in return.

“I’ve missed you,” Sophia whispered, inhaling the scent of lavender her sister favored.

“I’ve missed you. Shame they’re going to kill you now that you’re finally home,” Viola murmured.

Sophia hugged her tighter, a slight grin tugging at her lips. “It’s your job to protect me.”

“That ship has sailed, sweetie. You made your bed,” she said, leaning back. Her expression hinted at amusement, but Sophia sensed the serious undertone. Her parents would be happy she was home, but they’d make their displeasures well known. She hated the thought that they might have all been sitting around talking about her, discussing how she’d let them down again this year by not coming home for the holidays.

Sophia took a moment to look at Viola. Regardless of where this day went, it was nice to see the people she loved in person rather than through a phone screen. Viola’s honey-colored skin was flawless, but she noted little laugh lines around her mouth and eyes. Now a mother of two, she took care of the books at the restaurant and was able to work from home now and again.

“I like my bed just fine,” Sophia said, realizing she hadn’t answered.

The word “bed” made her think of Declan, and a shiver rippled through her body again. Her hormones were haywire. Yeah. That’s it.

Viola yanked her by the hand. “Get in here, it’s freezing.”

“Viola, who is here?” Her mother came down the hallway into the front entrance of the house and stopped, staring at Sophia.

They all looked like their mother. Even Marcus, which they’d teased him for mercilessly.

“Sophia,” her mother said. It was her name, but it sounded more like an endearment, and her heart squeezed painfully. She saw the tears well in her mother’s eyes, and it lanced through all of her bravado.

“Mama,” she said, walking all the way in and giving her mother a hug.

Her mom stroked a hand down Sophia’s hair, and Sophia fought back tears. Her throat felt too thick to swallow properly. Viola shut the door behind them, and she heard her father’s heavy footsteps coming down the hall. Her mother dropped her arms and stepped back.

“Let’s eat,” her father said, his booming voice reaching her before he came into view. His eyes, like Viola’s, widened. His jaw didn’t drop open, though. Instead, his mouth tensed and tightened.

“Ragazza testarda,” her father whispered. Stubborn girl. There was no fighting back the tears for that.

Welcome home.

Her mother nudged her father with her elbow, and he came forward, pulling Sophia into a stiff hug. The scent of his cologne washed over her, bringing memories to the surface. When she left at eighteen, she’d thought they’d get over it. Each time she’d come home to visit, she assured herself they would be happy for all she achieved. But it was more like they’d seen her leaving as a choice to give them up.

Her father pulled back to look her up and down, his lips turning into a deep frown. His dark hair was more gray than black, and wrinkles creased his face and neck. The sparkle she remembered still glinted in his eyes. So did the disappointment. Maybe it would fade when she told them she was sticking this time. That she was home to stay.

“Come and eat,” her dad said.

Of course there’s food. Just the mention of a meal had her all but salivating. She swiped at the tears and followed him down the hallway into the kitchen.

The scents of rosemary and garlic mingled in the air, reminding her of her childhood. The kitchen, living room, and dining area were one massive open space at the back of the house. Wide windows looked out over the backyard where they’d hosted picnics and BBQs. Her parents were born in the United States but had both been brought up by traditional immigrant parents. Their parents had been friends in Italy and had emigrated together, so growing up, her mom and dad were all but promised to each other. Between the two families, this made for large gatherings as the years passed.

“Sit,” her mother said, pointing to the table where settings were already waiting. “You’re too skinny. You should have come for Christmas and New Year’s. All we did was eat.”

Sophia rolled her eyes and took her seat. No matter what the occasion, her family’s get-togethers revolved around food. Even if she had made it home for the holidays, they’d be urging her to eat.

Viola sat next to her, grinning like a loon. She took Sophia’s hand and squeezed. “How are you? When did you get back, and how long are you here?”

Her parents went about bringing food to the table, so she only had a minute of quiet conversation with her sister, at most. She took a deep breath.

“A few days ago. I’m fine. And I’m staying. For good. I got a job at On Dec,” she replied, shifting on her chair to face her sister.

Viola shook her head. “What? You’re staying? Since when? Why didn’t you tell any of us? And you’re working at Dec’s when you could work at the restaurant?”

Yes. I struck out on my own again, and now I have to convince all of you I know what I’m doing.

“Because it’s a good opportunity.” And I love the freedom of deciding what works best for a company and how to showcase their strengths.

Her father set down a pan of lasagna while her mother put a bowl of spaghetti next to it.

“What opportunity?” Her father’s bushy eyebrows furrowed.

Sophia turned, her mind blank. “I’m home to stay. I’m working in Declan James’s pub as a manager and doing marketing and promotion.”

Her mother stopped in her tracks, a basket of bread in hand, then looked to Sophia’s father, who stared at her with unchecked anger.

“We’re a family business. You leave your family to run off with some man, you come home and you insult us again by working for someone else?”

“Mario,” her mom whispered. She set the bread down and took a seat across the table.

Her father dropped down into his chair at the head of the table, ignoring Sophia while he dished up massive portions. Viola nudged Sophia.

“I wasn’t trying to insult you, Dad. Ever. I didn’t run off with anyone. I went to school in Arizona and got a good job. I don’t know why we always have to rehash this.” She paused to take a breath, shifting in her seat when a stitch lodged in her ribs. “I’m back to stay, but I really do feel more useful at the pub. I can do what I was trained to do.”

“I don’t have a degree, and yet I’m successful. Your brother has one, but he stayed with his family. Not you. Too fancy for our family,” her father said, stabbing his fork into his spaghetti.

Sophia sighed. “No, Papa.”

Her mom picked up a piece of bread and met Sophia’s gaze. “A bar, Sophia? That seems beneath you.”

“I’m working with Declan James. You both know and like him. He has a very successful business, and I’m now his manager. I’m able to put the schooling I paid for to good use.”

Her father wound noodles around his fork in jerky movements. “We pay for our children to be educated when they stay home like they should. You run around the world, you pay your own way.”

“Dad,” Viola said, scooping up a forkful of spaghetti.

Sophia shot her a grateful smile and a subtle head shake. “It’s fine. Get it out now. You’re mad—I get that. But I can’t change the past, and I don’t know that I would if I could.”

Her father finished his bite of food and lifted his water, took a sip. “You want the past in the past? Fine. You come work at Pop’s now. You want to manage, I’ll put you in charge of something. Maybe you do the scheduling. You have that fancy marketing degree, you use it to help our family.” He waved his hand around like the gesture finished the conversation.

Sophia picked up her napkin and wiped her mouth. The food was delicious, but her stomach was easing toward nausea. Why had she even entertained the idea that they’d treat her like an adult?

“I don’t want to work at the restaurant, Dad. It’s not an insult or meant to hurt you. I just want to do my own thing.”

“Your own thing means working in a dive bar,” her mother said, slamming her water down.

“Mama,” Viola interrupted, putting a hand over Sophia’s. “You know very well Declan’s place is not a dive bar. He’s one of Marcus’s best friends.”

“He’s not family,” her dad said.

Sadness circled Sophia’s heart like a planet orbiting the sun.

“Does Marcus know you’re home?” Her father’s bushy eyebrows pushed together.

She shook her head. “Not yet.”

Pointing his garlic toast at her, he muttered something like a-ha. “A friend would tell a friend his sister is home.”

Sophia closed her eyes and counted to ten. In English and Italian. When she opened her eyes, her family was watching her with a mixture of concern and frustration.

“I asked him not to. I’ve only been back a couple of days. I needed to settle first.”

Her mother smiled genuinely, and it repaired some of the cracks in Sophia’s heart. “You’ll settle here. You’ll move into your old room. We’ll go to mass tomorrow. Usually we just go on Saturday nights, but you and I, we’ll go together tomorrow.”

“Suck up.” The smile on her sister’s lips suggested she was teasing, but nothing felt funny.

Sophia didn’t laugh. She looked at her mother, who was not typically a joking sort of person, but she could not, honest to God, be serious.

“Mom. I work tomorrow. And I’m not moving home,” Sophia said.

“Where will you stay?” Viola asked. Her brows furrowed. “Wait, you said a few days. Where have you been staying?”

Her stomached flipped over. This was only going to get worse. “I’m staying with Declan for now, but I’m looking for my own place.”

“You’re living with a man known to run through women like we do pasta sauce?” The frost in her father’s tone felt like a slap in the face. Tears burned, and she bit her lip to keep from lashing out.

“Papa. It’s Declan. And rumor has it he isn’t dating much at all anymore,” Viola said.

“You embarrass your family, Sophia,” her father said, not even looking at her.

Sophia stood, threw her napkin down. “Have you forgotten that you like Declan? That you respect him? Which is a lot more than I can say for how you feel about me. I’ve apologized for hurting you, but I’m not sorry I left. Jesus. I’ve been back less than a week, and you’re already making me feel like I can’t breathe.”

“Sit down, Sophia. You will not speak to us this way,” her dad said.

“I’m not a child. I’m a grown woman capable of making my own choices,” she said, trying to smooth out her tone.

Her father stood, forcing her to look up if she wanted to hold his gaze. “You make decisions like a child. Impulsive. Selfish. You want to be treated like an adult, you act like one. Respect is earned.”

Tears clogged her throat. “Not in this house it isn’t. If it was, then I’d have yours. I put myself through school. I had a successful career. I’ve never asked you for anything other than a little freedom to make my own path instead of following yours. Unless I work at your restaurant and live under your roof until someone you approve of marries me, I won’t get anything more than disapproval from you. So, I guess we’re at a stalemate.”

She moved quickly through the house, grabbing her jacket and purse off the hook by the door. Her sister called her name, but she didn’t stop. She couldn’t. If she did, she’d cry, and she wouldn’t let any of them break her. She refused to feel bad anymore for being her own person.

“Sophia,” Viola called again as Sophia hurried to her car.

Sophia turned around when she reached the car and stared at her sister over the hood. She saw the sadness in Viola’s expression, but Viola didn’t follow her to offer platitudes or take her side. No. Just like the day she’d pulled out of the driveway at eighteen, Sophia was alone.