“Gio!” a woman cries.
“Mama.” Gio’s warm voice filters down the corridor from where I’m still standing, then their voices drop to a low murmur and I cannot make out what’s being said.
That snaps me out of my daze and I jerk my eyes down, checking that all of my clothing is straight and I’m looking the best I possibly can before meeting the mother of five of the best people I’ve met since moving to Chicago.
Baggy sweater? Check. Leggings? Check. Sports bra? Thank God! Hair . . . oh, shit! I quickly pull out my ponytail holder and brush out the knots with my fingers before tying my locks up in a best-I-can-do messy knot on the top of my head.
I look up and meet the older, but no-less-recognizable hazel eyes of Mama Rossi, who’s soft, gentle features and curved lips are taking me in like I’m a rare sight—likely, the Loch Ness monster.
“Oh, mia cara. You’re beautiful.” She steps closer and rests her hands on my biceps, leaning in to kiss one cheek and then the other. She shifts back but doesn’t let me go. “Hi. I’m Maria, but you can call me Mama like everyone else does.”
“Thank you?” I say warily.
Her eyes crinkle even more, her smile deepening, a dimple matching her son’s popping out before she looks over her shoulder where Gio leans against the wall, a covered casserole dish in his arms. He’s watching me, though, with a far-too-pleased-with-himself grin on his face. It’s infuriating and irresistible at the same time. “She’s perfect, Gio,” she murmurs before returning her attention to me. “You’re perfect.”
I snicker and shake my head. “You’ll have to excuse my appearance. I’m a hot mess today and had no idea you were visiting, otherwise I would’ve gotten changed.”
She wraps an arm around my shoulders and then I’m being led over to the kitchen counter as Gio walks past us and puts the dish in the refrigerator. “Oh no, Alexandra. I’m just Mama.” She takes a seat then waves her hand for me to do the same. “There’s no need to go out of your way for me. I’m family, as are you.”
My gaze widens and jerks to Gio’s back. His shaking shoulders totally give him away. Bastard. Maybe I should make him wait for all the good things that come after a nap date.
“Thank you. Would you like a drink or to have a late lunch with us? You’re more than welcome,” I say. That earns a choked cough from my roommate, who shuts the fridge a little bit harder than necessary. I fight back a satisfied smirk of my own.
“No, no. I can’t stay long. I just wanted to meet the woman who has my son rushing out at dawn to drive her home.”
I tilt my head. “I’m thinking it was Luca who told you? He seems like the biggest gossip out of all your children.”
Maria’s eyes twinkle with amusement. “Ah, you obviously know all my children well then. It was Skye, actually. She learned from Cohen, and then she called me. And then when Gio messaged me this morning, he explained that you might need a Mama meal to help you feel better.” She rests a hand on my arm. “Are you . . .? Feeling better, that is?”
Tears sting my eyes and I quickly blink them away. Mama Rossi is just like my mom was, and if she were alive, she’d be doing the exact same thing right now—checking in on me and making sure I was being looked after.
Back home, I had Mom, Dad, and Adam to lean on, and when Mom passed, then it was just the three of us. Here, Gio and his family have made sure—in their own way—that I’m taken care of. Like I am just another member of the family.
“I’m much better now than I was this morning. You have some fine sons. Luca made sure I got out of the building on time, and Marco made sure I was okay afterward, then called Gio to pick me up from the station.”
Mama’s eyes drift over to the pillow bed still covering the floor in front of the sofa, her lips curving up as her gaze slides back to meet mine. “He’s a good man, my Gio. A lot like his Papa.”
“Did Papa make you a pillow fort, Mama? I don’t think so. I’d remember that story.”
My eyes shoot daggers Gio’s way. We’re supposed to be just roommates. No one knows otherwise yet . . . Well, except for Skye and Val, who told me to make a move, which means Cohen knows too. And I guess Marco knows, since he called Gio to come and get me . . . which means Luca knows too. I huff out a silent sigh. Definitely not a secret to anyone I guess.
“Nooo, my Carlo never did. That’s your move, Gio. He did bring me a peony—my favorite flower— every day, rain, hail or shine, for a whole month until I gave in and accepted his invitation for dinner.”
I side-glance at my roomie. “A whole month, huh? That’s a lot of dedication right there.”
“Don’t even think about it,” Gio mouths as he shakes his head at me.
“If you want to know how to handle the Rossi men—at home or at work—you come see me, mia cara, and I’ll tell you all you need to know.”
Damn, I love Mama Rossi now. I should’ve known she’d be awesome.
“I might just do that, especially since I’ve got them at work and home,” I reply.
“I’m still here, you know,” Gio grumbles.
Mama’s Tinkerbell laugh and the wink she throws my way are just as cute as she is. “Hush now, son. The women are talking.”
Mama bursts out laughing. I can’t help it—I join her. Something I didn’t think was possible after the night I had.
“Anyway. I must be off. Carlo and I have plans.”
“Marcy and Rick dragging you out again?” Gio muses.
“Oh no, never again. Marcy is entertaining but she’s far too energetic for me. I’d much rather sit at home with a glass of red wine.”
I press my hand to my chest. “A woman after my own heart.”
“You, Alexandra, are welcome to come and drink my wine any time, mia cara.”
I smile back at her and nod. “Thank you.”
“My pleasure. Now that I have seen for myself that my son is being a good man and taking good care of you”—she stands and glances over at the living room again, her smirk widening and making my cheeks heat—“I can rest easy and leave you two to your day.”
I move to walk her to the door, but she puts her hand out to stop me. “No, Alexandra, you stay. Gio can see me out. How else can I tell him not to mess you around if you come see me out too?” she says, with a conspiratorial wink. “Now, you must come to the family lunch in a few weeks.”
“I’d love to. Thank you, Maria. And for the spaghetti. I can’t wait to try it,” I say. Her smile is so big it’s blinding, and it’s exactly the same one Gio and Skye have too.
She bends over and kisses my cheeks, her voice dropping to a soft whisper for my ear’s only. “You’re exactly who I’d want for my boy. But stay strong; don’t let him dazzle you with that smile of his or let him think you can’t take care of him too. I have faith, mia cara.”
I nod as Gio wraps an arm around his mother’s waist and sends me a curious look. “C’mon, Mama. I’ll walk you to your car.”
“Thank you, Gio.”
“Be back in a minute, baby.”
“I’ll be here.”
He glances over at me and there’s a definite promise in his eyes—one that makes me tremble in all the right ways in all the right places.
“Next time, Gio, you’ll have to introduce me to Fred. Skye was telling me all about my plant grandbaby. I can’t wait to meet him.”
A giggle bubbles out of me as I look over at our houseplant and realize his soil is looking a little dry.
“It’s okay, Fred. I’ve got you,” I say as I water him. “And between you and me, I think I’m in trouble—but the good kind.”
Gio places his fork down on his plate after we’ve finished eating the best spaghetti I’ve ever had, bar none. We’re sitting at the kitchen island, side by side, and I’m so full that I think the ‘nap’ part of our nap date might actually become more of a reality than I’d planned.
“Are you going to tell me what advice my mama gave you before she left?” Gio asks.
I place my fork down too, so satisfied. “Now why would I betray Mama’s confidence when I’ve only just met her? I’d hate to get in her bad books.”
He chuckles. “Something tells me there ain’t much you could ever do that my mother would hold against you. She told me, and I quote, ‘You be good to that girl. She’s perfect for you.’”
My eyes jump out. “Um . . . does she know I almost got one of her sons injured today? That if I’d stood my ground a minute longer, we both might not have made it out of there?”
All amusement leaves his expression, a concerned frown taking its place. Gio turns on his stool and leans in, grabbing my hips and moving me around so I’m facing him. Shifting closer, he spreads his legs so they bracket mine, his hands resting on my shoulders and sliding up to wrap around the back of my neck. One thing is for sure, he’s got my complete attention now.
“Now, if nothing else comes from this day, I need you to believe this. You were doing your job—a job that every one of the men and women who stand by your side also signed up for. You thought there was someone trapped up there. No one—not me, my brothers, Mama, anyone—is going to hold that against you. You were willing to put your life on the line for a complete stranger. It’s brave; it’s courageous.” He leans forward, resting his forehead on mine so he’s all I can see. “And baby, I fucking love that you’re that kind of person, that kind of woman. Because in the same situation, I’m always gonna be that same kind of man.”
I bite my lip to stop it from quivering, everything Gio just said was exactly what I needed to hear. I’ve never doubted my abilities as a firefighter—I know I’m good at that—but in the early hours of this morning, I was worried about whether I should’ve run down that corridor and left Luca, or if my stubborn streak almost caused both of us to be injured or worse.
Knowing neither one of us are ready for me to turn into a blubbering mess on what is technically our first date—nap or otherwise—I decide to deflect, and I playfully whack him on the arm.
He jerks back with a confused frown. “Ouch. Assaulting an officer now. What was that for?”
“For being too damn charming and sweet and honest and good and, and—”
“Sexy?” He leans back in, his eyes dark and blazing now. “Hot?” He moves closer still, this time stopping when his lips brush against mine. “Irresistible?”
I loop my arms around his neck and close the remaining distance between us, garlic breath be damned and crush my lips to his. Gio growls into my mouth, one of his hands delving into my hair as he deepens the kiss, claiming me thoroughly as he takes control, making me melt against him and take everything he’s giving me—and by god, is he giving me greatness. Top notch, A-grade kissing right here. It’s always the quiet ones.
When the need for oxygen takes over, we slowly ease back, his eyes just as heated as mine. It takes everything I’ve got not to jump in his lap and kiss him again as his hungry gaze roams over my face, fixating on my lips.
“Want me to do the dishes?” I ask teasingly.
“Nope,” he bites out roughly before he dives in again, his grip in my hair tightening as he plunges into my mouth, pillaging me like a pirate searching for gold. It’s sublime.
I decide to play dirty—with the dishes this time. “You’ll be okay letting them sit here with all that food drying on them?” I push against his shoulders, sucking in a much-needed breath but already missing the feel of his lips on mine and his tongue in my mouth. If I’m addicted to his kisses. What’s going to happen when I finally see his—
“Yep.” He drags his hands down, watching their journey over my collarbone, skimming my breasts and waist until they settle on my hips.
“You suuure?”
His fingers flex and then I’m being lifted over and pulled onto his lap. I wrap my legs around his back, bringing my pelvis flush with his and his hard-on. My hands grab hold of his shoulders as a whimper escapes my lips.
“Now this is much better,” he rumbles as he buries his face in my neck, kissing his way across my throat.
I drop my head back to give him more access, my fingers roaming over the tight firm muscles of his back.
He bucks his hips up, eliciting a moan from me. “Like that, baby?”
“God, you’re such a tease.” His lips curve against my skin.
“Want me to go do the dishes now?” he asks, his voice laced with humor.
“Maybe . . . later,” I grab his face and pull his mouth back to mine, looking deep into his smiling eyes as our lips rest against each other.
“Wanna make out on the pillow bed? We were supposed to have a nap date after all,” he says.
“I’m not sure I want to move right now.” I drag the tip of my tongue along his bottom lip, loving the way his eyes have gone all warm and melty.
“Me either.” Then he kisses me again, and we don’t move . . . not until much, much later.