Page 50 of Family Bonds- Gabriela & Luca

“What gave it away?” she asked, blowing her hair out of her face that the wind sent covering her eyes.

He reached up and tucked a strand behind her ear. Her breath caught. She couldn’t help herself.

Then his finger slowly drew down the side of her face, tracing her features.

It dropped away way too fast for her liking.

“Something like that. Could be the chattering of your teeth. Have a good night.”

“You too,” she said, holding her smile, then watching him walk down the stairs. No quirky witty replies came fast to her brain this time.

Keeping it funny and easy didn’t seem to work when he did tender moves like that.

He turned when he got to his car. “I’m not pulling away until you go in. I hope you aren’t going to turn this into a battle of who outlasts the other tonight?”

“I’m going, I’m going,” she said. “I’m sure we’ll talk soon.”

Because she’d reach out tomorrow or Monday. She didn’t like the idea that she wouldn’t see him again for over ten days.

Crazy if they were just supposed to be friends, right?

When she came downstairs twenty minutes later in leggings, fuzzy socks and a sweatshirt, the door to the garage was opening and her parents were walking in.

“You didn’t waste any time changing,” her mother said.

“I’m lucky I lasted as long as I did in those heels.”

The sacrifices she made for fashion. Give her sneakers any day of the week.

Hell, half the time she wore them to work now with a dress or pants. It was the style, and comfort was more important to her.

“I didn’t think you’d stay as long as you had,” her father said, loosening his tie. “Unless it was because Luca was going to buy that vase.”

“I didn’t know he was,” she said. “He said it’s for his mother’s birthday. Guess they are coming to see him on Tuesday and staying for a week.”

“That’s nice,” her mother said, kicking off her heels and stretching her toes on the floor. “I was going to suggest inviting him for Thanksgiving if he was around.”

“I thought of it too,” she said. “But no need now.”

“I liked him,” her father admitted, pulling his tie off completely.

“We’re going to change,” her mother said. “Why don’t you make some coffee for the two of us, and we can chat?”

“Oh boy. Let me guess. This is about ‘we are friends,’ right?”

Her father laughed. “I told your mother that. But the more you argue your point, the less she believes it.”

“I’ll make the coffee,” she said, heading for the kitchen. “Decaf for me. I want to sleep tonight.”

“You can do decaf for me too,” her mother called from the bedroom, and they disappeared behind the door.

Was she really protesting too much?

Maybe it was better to let it go, let everyone draw their own conclusions, and just enjoy the night for what it was.

She poured the coffee, the rich aroma filling the quiet kitchen. Her father leaned against the counter, arms crossed, watching her with a half-smile after beating her mother out of the room.

“So,” her father said, taking a sip of a cup he’d had. “Luca survived the night without running for the door?”