Page 54 of Come Find Me Tonight

Robby glances over at me, and his expression is just warm, like he’s picturing us spending the holidays here. “Both. They gave me the choice between Judaism and Catholicism, and I chose the latter.” He takes a sip of his espresso while the toast sizzles in the pan. “Mostly because my dad’s family are the ones here, and they’re all Italian Catholic. But growing up, we still celebrated the Jewish holidays, too. I guess Nonna raised her eyebrows when my dad first brought my mom around, but I think my mom is her favorite daughter-in-law now. Those two are always getting into trouble.” My smile grows bigger as I hear him talk about his mom. “I didn’t answer you before; she would be the best mother-in-law. She’d probably feel more like a mother than your own.”

I sit across from him on a barstool, setting my drink on a nearby coaster. “That’s not hard to do. We’re getting deep this morning.” Robby smirks. “Not like that.”

“I think these are important things to talk about, though. I’m long game, and I want you to be, too.”

I look directly into his dark brown eyes. “I’m right here.”

Robby swallows, making his Adam’s apple shift in his throat. “It feels too right having you in Napa…”

“If we looked into a more permanent living situation here, would we have to live on property? I mean, it’s beautiful, but…”

“Too close?”

I nod and take a sip of my iced coffee. “Your dad and his three brothers live on property with their wives. I wouldn’t want to be in those dynamics all the time. I hope you understand.”

“I do, but that’s my big Italian family for you. There’s an apartment above the stables we could stay at if we visit here more in the future. It’s like a guest house situation, and it’s pretty nice. And if we sold our houses in LA, we could get something here.”

“Those are some big steps.”

“If you told me you wanted to move here, I would have sold my house yesterday.” He flips the slices of toast in the pan. “For now, LA is fine, and we can visit Napa whenever. My parents are dying to meet you now.”

“What would they think about me?” I ask, gripping the cold glass of my iced coffee.

“Um, I think my dad would appreciate your sass and fire. He’s pretty fiery, too. Mom’s the calm, cool, collected one, and I think she’d like how chill you can be. I’m pretty sure my uncles would nickname you Tiny or something, by the way.” Robby chuckles as he fills me in about them.

I shift my feet on the stool I’m sitting on. “Is everyone tall?” I ask.

“Not like extremely. E is the biggest and tallest. Always has been. But everyone else is probably average height. My mom’s tall, though, so I got my height from her side. Her dad was six-four.”

I watch as he plates the French toast. “What about E? Also, what’s E short for? Enzo, right?”

“Actually, he’s Vincenzo after his dad, and Uncle Vinny is the tallest of their siblings. I heard E’s mom was really tall, too.”

“You haven’t met her?”

“Oh, no. She’s from Sicily, like I said yesterday. Uncle Vin met her on vacation, and she got pregnant. She came here to have Enzo, but motherhood wasn’t her thing. I never met her. Just heard stories. Vin later married a medical assistant he met at E’s pediatrician’s office, and she adopted him when he was a toddler. She’s my aunt, not E’s mom in Sicily.”

“So, Enzo’s half Italian, half Sicilian? And you’re both juniors?”

Robby nods. “Yeah, and he’s got the Sicilian fire, so don’t piss him off.” Robby laughs. “You’re right; we’re the only ones named after our dads. I don’t see either of us passing our names to any sons we end up with. Ready to eat?”

I hop off the barstool. “Of course. It looks great, babe.”

Breakfast is as amazing as Robby promised, and we eat at the large kitchen island, sitting next to each other. Every time our thighs brush against each other, I want to jump on him like I did last night, but we have all weekend to have sex.

While he cleans up, I sip the rest of my iced coffee and look at their family photos on the walls and on the fireplace mantel, and I find pictures of Robby when he was a baby and toddler. His eyes and hair were both so dark from the start, but his curls must have come in more when he was a toddler.

“You were a chubby baby,” I tease when he approaches me holding his little espresso mug.

He shrugs. “I was breastfed. Clearly lost the baby fat,” he says, looking down at his abs.

I trace my fingertips over them. “You did, but you know, I kind of miss you a little bulkier.”

“Really? I got really lean for videos, but if I cut that, I could bulk up. Honestly, my mom and Nonna keep telling me I’m too thin. Nonna says I’m skinny because I’ve been single.” He breathes out a laugh.

“And you found a girl who doesn’t cook,” I retort. “My mom used to say I’d always be single because I refused to learn how to cook, and no man would want me if I didn’t.”

Robby’s brows furrow together. “What the fuck’s wrong with your mom?”