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The Sassy One (Marcelli #2) - Page 24/43

“Look at all the cars,” Kelly said. “It’s gonna be a great party.”

Gabriel grumbled again. Sam ignored him and parked. The car had barely come to a stop when Kelly flung open her door and stepped out into the warm afternoon.

“Francesca! We’re here!”

Sam climbed out of the car and saw Francesca coming down the rear steps. He moved around the car to help Gabriel, but the old man waved him off.

“I’m not so bent that I can’t stand on my own,” he muttered, leaning heavily on his cane as he straightened.

Which meant Sam could focus his attention on the woman greeting his daughter. Francesca wore a loose-fitting white dress that shouldn’t have looked the least bit sexy, yet sent his blood pressure rocketing up to the boiling level. She wore her hair back in a braid. Gold hoop earrings glinted at her ears and minimal makeup emphasized her features.

“What are you gawking at?” Gabriel asked, then raised his head. One corner of his mouth turned up as his gaze settled on Francesca as she gave Kelly a quick hug, then pointed toward the backdoor.

“Well, hell. If she’s the woman you’ve been keeping company with, you’re not as half-dead as I’d figured.”

Sam glanced at his grandfather, but before he could say anything, Francesca moved close enough to hear.

“Hello,” she said with a smile. “You must be Mr. Reese, Sam’s grandfather. It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir.”

Gabriel cleared his throat. He nodded. “If he told you who I am, he probably told you I was as surly as a bear and as old as the hills.”

Francesca laughed. “Actually he said you were tremendously charming and that I was forbidden to run off with you.”

Gabriel gave a rusty-sounding chuckle. “I like being flattered, young lady. You keep it up. And don’t call me Mr. Reese. That makes me sound like an old man.” He winked. “I’m Gabriel.”

Kelly came tearing out of the house. “Look!” She skittered to a stop in front of them and held out her hand. A flag-shaped cookie rested on her palm. The shaky flag design already told Sam the name of the artist even before she said, “I decorated it myself. Want a taste?” she asked Sam.

The question caught him off guard. “Of course. But only half. You need to eat some, too.”

“Okay.”

Kelly carefully broke the cookie in two and gave him half.

He took a bite. “It’s great.”

Kelly beamed. “Grandma Tessa said she wants to teach me to cook. That it will make me be a good wife. I told her I didn’t really care about that, but I would like to be able to cook stuff so I could throw parties.” She glanced at him. “Maybe when I make friends at school I could have them over and stuff.”

More twelve-year-old girls filling his house? He swallowed hard. “Sure. That would be great.”

Gabriel pointed toward several chairs in the shade. “I’m going to go plant these old bones. Why don’t you help me, Kelly?”

The girl hesitated for a second, then nodded. “Okay. Want the rest of my cookie?”

The old man eyed the half-eaten snack, then shrugged. “Why not?”

They walked off together. After a couple of steps Gabriel reached for her hand and settled it in the crook of his arm. Kelly didn’t pull away.

“I think my grandfather likes her,” Sam said, surprised and pleased in equal measures.

“Kelly’s not half bad,” Francesca told him.

He chuckled. “Heady praise.”

She smiled at him.

He was about to say something else, when her smile faltered. He looked more closely and saw shadows in her eyes.

“Are you all right?”

“Sure.” She leaned close. “I’ve been working on my dissertation. It’s not easy trying to get all the data into charts and graphs without putting myself to sleep. I would much rather just talk about what I learned. But that’s not how higher education works.”

“Smart and pretty. Do I have to worry about Gabriel stealing you away?”

“Maybe. He’s charming.”

“That’s where I get it from,” Sam told her.

She laughed. “Thanks for sharing. I’d wondered.” She glanced at the house, then took his arm and led him toward his car. “You’re going to meet my family today,” she said and sighed.

He raised his hand to rub away the frown line between her eyebrows, then lowered his arm to his side.

“I figured I would,” he said, “what with the party being at their house.”

She smiled. “Good point. I just want to go over this one more time so we’re all clear. When I brought Kelly over to meet everyone, I tried to tell them we weren’t dating, not really, but no one would listen. For them, it’s a very short journey from an introduction to happily married. Once they see you in the flesh, they’ll start hearing wedding bells. These people are not subtle.”

She looked worried, which he thought was charming. “I’m okay with that. Your family can’t scare me.”

“You say that because you haven’t met them yet.” She studied him. “I just want you to know I’m not implying anything behind your back.”

He touched her cheek. “Francesca, I trust you. You’re not a deceptive person.”

She opened her mouth, but before she could speak, the backdoor opened and several people spilled out into the yard. Older, younger, and ages in between. As they approached, he thought he saw some physical resemblances. If he hadn’t been sure, Francesca’s groan would have told him this was her family.

“It won’t be so bad,” he murmured.

She gave him a pitying look, then turned to face the group. Ten minutes later Sam knew he’d misjudged the situation. Badly.

Introductions passed in a blur. Even with Kelly having explained who everyone was, he had trouble keeping the names straight. One of the grandmother’s got his cheek in a wrestling lock that nearly brought tears to his eyes and both of Francesca’s sisters eyed him with expressions that warned him there would be questions asked later.

“Come,” the cheek pincher said, taking hold of his arm and drawing him toward the house. “You can help me. While we work, we talk, eh?”

He glanced at Francesca, who shrugged as if to say none of this was her fault. Her mother asked something and she turned away. Sam was on his own.

“You’re Mrs. Marcelli?” he asked as they stepped into the house. The rear utility room gave way to a massive kitchen with a multiburner stove that would cause trouble in his house if Elena ever saw it. She’d been petitioning for a bigger stove since the first day she started work.

“You call me Grandma Tessa,” the woman said as she directed him to the sink. “Wash. Use soap.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

He did as she directed, dried his hands, then walked over to the huge center island. Hundreds of flag cookies waited to be frosted.

She handed him a bag of red frosting, picked up one for herself, then showed him how to squeeze out the right amount of icing.

“In rows,” she said. “Keep the lines straight.”

Six cookies later he got the hang of it and was able to apply fairly straight red stripes on the cookies. Grandma Tessa worked at about five times his speed, applying tiny blue dots to take the place of the stars.

“So, how did you meet our Francesca?” Grandma Tessa asked.

“She was conducting one of her experiments. I offered to help. She was in disguise and I couldn’t tell. That impressed me.”

The older woman looked at him. “She’s an impressive girl.”

“I know.”

“So you have a daughter. Where’s your wife?”

“On her way to Europe to marry someone else.”

“And you didn’t know anything about the child before?”

“Not a clue.” Sam was surprised to feel a burst of anger. “She had no right to keep Kelly from me.” For the first time since his daughter had shown up, he realized he’d missed a hell of a lot. Her birth, her first word, her first step. He’d missed things that could never be recovered.

Grandma Tessa smiled. “You look fierce. Good. You take care of your own.”

His own? He supposed that described Kelly. “She can be a handful.”

“She’s getting independent. They grow up and then they don’t listen. What can we do?”

He doubted Kelly had ever been much for listening.

“You have a good business? You have money?”

He couldn’t help smiling. “You’re not subtle, are you?”

Grandma Tessa chuckled. “I’m an old woman. I’ve lived long enough to say what I think. Francesca is a lovely girl. Her husband died a long time ago. She has mourned him like a good wife, but time moves on. Things change.”

Sam made a mental note never to complain about Gabriel’s gruff inquires about his love life. Compared to Francesca’s grandmother, Gabriel was a lightweight.

“Francesca needs to be married,” Grandma Tessa said. “She comes from good stock. Her hips are a little narrow, but we can’t all be built like Brenna. She’s Francesca’s twin.”

A woman walked into the kitchen. She was about Francesca’s age, but a little shorter, with short dark hair and brown eyes. She winced as she caught her grandmother’s words.

“Hi, I’m Brenna of the childbearing hips,” she said ruefully. “You’re in luck. I’m here to rescue you.”

Grandma Tessa frowned. “Sam doesn’t need rescuing.”

“Want to ask him?” Brenna took the icing bag from him and set it on the counter. “Come on. I know a secret way out of here.”

“Nice to meet you,” Sam said as he hurried after Brenna.

She took him out the front door.

“I see I didn’t have to ask you twice,” she said.

“I enjoyed meeting your grandmother,” he said.

“Uh-huh. And the matchmaking?”

“That was a little intense.”

Brenna smiled. “Marcellis tend not to do things by halves. Just remember that you owe me.”

They circled around the house, coming out in the back, where the tables were set up for the party. Large trees provided shade. To one side young children ran around playing a game. He could smell the charcoal from the barbecues and something fruity he thought might be the grapes.

“There she is,” Brenna said, pointing.

He followed the direction and saw Francesca talking with her mother and her other sister. The light breeze played with the hem of her dress and a few loose strands of hair. When she leaned her head back and laughed, something caught in his gut, making him feel as if he’d been kicked.

Francesca looked up and saw them. She said something to her mother and sister and walked toward them.

“I rescued him from Grandma Tessa,” Brenna said when she was within earshot. “I don’t know how bad it got, but when I walked in they were talking about your skinny hips, so they’d already moved to childbearing.”

Francesca stumbled and blushed. “Sorry, Sam. I didn’t know it would go that far.”

He chuckled. “No permanent harm done.”

Brenna excused herself. He waited until she was gone to continue. “Now I know why you didn’t mention dating to your family.”

“It’s definitely a place I don’t want to go,” she admitted. “For a lot of reasons.” She pointed to a path. “That heads through the gardens. Up for a walk?”

“Sure. Your grandmother thinks you’ve been in mourning for your late husband?” he asked.

“Yes. I tried to explain that my feelings about marriage have nothing to do with being in mourning, but the Grands didn’t understand. I’m not the traditional woman they want me to be. I keep my guilt in check with my craft classes.”



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