Don't Open Till Christmas Page 16

  He nodded, almost hearing her cousin’s complaints. “And you’re really going to drive a pizza out to her?”

  “Randy’s meeting me halfway.”

  “That’s still pretty far.”

  “I know, and knowing him he’ll drive too fast to get back to her quickly.” Shrugging, she shook her head, sending waves of that dark hair swirling, one of them brushing against his cheek. Upping the awareness again.

  There went another minute or two here in the corner for some serious cooling-off.

  “I told Randy I’d bring it all the way there, but he was adamant that I not drive all the way to Christmas and back by myself.”

  He wondered if she realized she’d just given him an opening, a perfect excuse to spend another evening with her. The hint of color rising into her cheeks—which he’d bet had absolutely nothing to do with the cold air blasting inside every time someone opened the door—told him she had. “That wasn’t a hint.”

  “I know. But I’m taking you anyway.”

  She put her hand on his chest, her touch frying his circuits as always. “No, Mark, I can’t let you…”

  “Forget it, Noelle.” He covered her hand with his own and squeezed it. “If you’re making a pizza delivery halfway across the state, I’m going with you.”

  Though her mouth opened as if to argue, after a second, Noelle closed it again. With a small smile, she said, “Thanks. That’d be wonderful. I guess I’d better place my order.”

  “I can promise speedy service,” he said with a wink. “I have an in with the owner.”

  Glancing toward the front of the restaurant, he caught his partner’s curious stare. Harriet was looking Noelle over and nodding her approval. Hopefully as a friend and sister-figure. Not as a, um, competitor.

  Knowing he couldn’t stand here in the corner when his partner was waiting for him, and his mother would be appearing at any moment, he took Noelle’s arm. Unable to resist the softness of her delicate sweater, and instantly picturing how good it must feel against her even softer skin, he rubbed it lightly. He led her to the counter, where Gloria, his sister-in-law, was busy taking phone orders and writing down the names of customers waiting for tables. Santori’s was a family affair. Every one of them had waited tables here during their teen years, and Tony’s wife was a regular fixture in the place now.

  “Hi,” he said, raising his voice over the chatter of the customers waiting to be seated. “I need to get a couple of pies.”

  “You gotta wait your turn. We’re kinda busy in case you didn’t notice,” said Gloria, sounding impatient. Then she looked up and saw him there and her face widened into an enormous smile. “Mark! Hey, dollface, how you doin’?”

  He leaned over the counter to kiss her cheek. “Good. You?”

  “I’d be better if that brother of yours wasn’t such a lunk-head.” Though she hadn’t yet realized he was with Noelle, Gloria did spot Harriet. “Hey, how you doin?”

  “I guess you remember Harriet?”

  Gloria nodded, sending her shiny black hair, puffed up in a do-wop style that looked like something out of a fifties movie, bobbing. Gloria was old school from head to toe. “Sure I do. Good to see you again.” Then she gave Mark a hard stare. “Your rock-brained brother is gonna give himself a hernia,” she said, her voice loud, as always. “You tell him to stop schlepping tables around here every time he decides he wants to rearrange the room because heaven knows he won’t listen to me. After all, who am I? Only his wife, that’s who.”

  Glancing around, he noted the slight changes in the restaurant’s layout. Every three months or so, Tony got a bee in his bonnet and moved things around. He said he did it to keep things feeling fresh and new. In truth, he did it because it riled Gloria up and he positively lived to tease his wife into one of her passionate meltdowns. Mark had the feeling Tony liked making up after those fights.

  In fact, even now, his brother was watching from just outside the swinging doorway to the kitchen, having heard every word Gloria had said. Giving Mark a grin and a wave, he ducked back into the kitchen before she could whirl around and catch him.

  “I’ll talk to him,” he said, knowing it was hopeless. Who was he to interfere with the machinations of a good marriage? Tony and Gloria had a great thing going and despite their occasional eruptions because of their matching stubborn personalities, seemed to be truly happy. They were raising two spoiled, passionate, dark-haired boys to be just like them.

  Before Gloria could go off on a rant about her husband, Mama walked out from the back room. Spying Mark, she beelined to the front counter, hugged him, then stuck her index finger in front of his nose. “You get your secret Santa gift yet?”

  “Uh…I forgot about it and never found out who I have.”

  Bad move. His mother lifted her eyes heavenward and said a prayer for her forgetful son. But at least she didn’t whack him. Then, looking around the room to ensure his future victim—er, gift recipient—wasn’t in earshot, she said, “You have Rachel.”

  His new sister-in-law. Wonderful. Like he had any idea what to get the newest member of their family. “Come on, Ma, gimme Nick instead. I know you pick who everybody gets.”

  Fisting her hands, she put them on her hips and glared. “So the two of you can each go out and buy your own presents like you did that year you wanted the electric guitar and he wanted the stereo? I don’a think so!” Her all-knowing nod told him she wasn’t finished. “Is good luck, you know. For the next son to buy a holiday present for his older brother’s new wife. Just ask Joey.”

  Mark had no idea what his mother was talking about. But before he could ask, he heard Noelle chuckling. How he’d forgotten the woman he’d been sporting a hard-on for for the past three weeks was standing right behind him, he had no idea.

  “You? An electric guitar?” she asked, as if someone had said he’d once danced with the Chicago ballet.

  “I was going through a Jimmy Page phase,” he admitted with a shrug.

  “Are you any good?” Her lips still twitched with amusement, as if she already knew the answer to her own question.

  “Nuh-uh,” he admitted. “Tony told me if I tried to play ‘Stairway to Heaven’ one more time, he was throwing my guitar in front of the L train.”

  “He’s lucky he didn’t derail it,” Gloria said.

  Noelle’s lips disappeared inside her mouth; she was obviously biting them to keep from laughing. Mark, meanwhile, was busy looking around at the three other very important women in his life: his partner, his sister-in-law, and Mama. Talk about trial by fire—he only hoped Noelle would still want to see him after this evening was over.

  All three women were eyeing him and Noelle with expressions ranging from casual interest to pure speculation. But there was still time for damage control, if he acted quickly. Or if his brother Tony popped his head out of the kitchen again and distracted Gloria. Yeah. A big giant Italian blow-out would get everybody’s attention off him and Noelle.

  Unfortunately, Tony didn’t show up and the silence continued for a long moment, until his mother said, “Did I raise you in a barn with no manners? Are you going to introduce us to your friend?”

  Damn. No escape. He had to handle this now, before his mother put her hands on Noelle’s hips to measure their suitability for child-bearing. “This is a very good friend of mine, Noelle Bradenton,” he said, giving the women of his family, and Harriet, a hard stare, demanding that they not say anything outrageous. “Noelle, meet my mother, Rosa Santori, my sister-in-law Gloria, and my partner, Harriet.”

  His mother obviously didn’t take the hint to behave. Throwing her hands into the air, she practically sang, “Hallelujah, our Markie finally has himself a new lady friend, I’d almost given hope after all’a these years. A nice girl she is, too, uh? I can tell these things.”

  Oh, Christ, here come the hands.

  “Come here and let me see you better. She’s so pretty! Such dark eyes, dark hair. You are Italian, I know it. I can tell this, t
oo.”

  She might as well have stood on a table and shouted because everyone in the place had heard and was looking at them. Out of the corner of his eye, Mark could see Harriet’s shoulders shaking with laughter. Too bad he wasn’t going to be able to pay the woman back in kind tonight. Unfortunately, even if he introduced Harriet’s “special friend” to his mother, he didn’t suppose she’d get the underlying significance and embarrass the hell out of her, like she was doing to her own son.

  Hoping the image of a sick relative in need would move Mama’s thoughts in another direction, he quickly said, “We need to place an order so we can bring some food to Noelle’s cousin, Sue, who can’t get out of bed.”

  Bingo.

  “Oh, dear!” Mama immediately made the sign of the cross. “I’ll add her to my prayer circle. What is wrong with her?”

  “She’s on bed rest for the remainder of her pregnancy,” Noelle explained.

  Yow. Bad move. Because now his single-minded mother was smiling in that knowing way, which said she was about to say something embarrassing. Again. “Pregnancy? And are you happy for your cousin? Do you like bebès?”

  Noelle, who obviously could read his mother like a book, nodded, giving Mark a mischievous look. “I do. Very much.”

  That was all the answer Rose Santori needed about whether Noelle was a good match for one of her sons. Her wide smile was accompanied by a shout for someone to get Pop out of the kitchen. When no one moved quickly enough, she stalked off herself, muttering something about dark-haired grandchildren.

  Thankfully, before Mark had to look Noelle in the eye and admit that yes, he was part of a maniacally insane family, his partner, who always had his back, stepped in to cover him. “I think I see my very good friend.”

  Pure curiosity winning out over a desire to stay out of Harriet’s private life made Mark turn and look around the room, Noelle still close by his side. Most of the tables were filled with whispering couples or laughing families. At one booth near the tropical fish tank, he did see a woman sitting by herself. But the petite blonde looked a little too simpering to be Harriet’s type.

  “Right over there,” his partner said, nodding toward a table about halfway to the kitchen. She almost sounded nervous, which was when Mark realized his opinion really did matter to Harriet.

  Determined to display no overt reaction to his partner’s coming-out moment, he followed her stare and saw…a guy. A shy-looking, middle-aged guy who wore glasses and had thinning light brown hair. “That’s your special someone? Him?”

  Harriet frowned darkly. “Yeah. Why? What’s wrong with him?”

  Immediately back-pedaling and cursing the day he’d ever listened to gossip and innuendo, he said, “Nothing. Not a thing. Everything’s fine. He’s looking at you like he can’t take his eyes off you.” Which was the truth.

  His brusque partner’s cheeks actually pinkened. “Thanks.” Then, clearing her throat and casting a quick look at Noelle, she shot right back. “It’s catching.”

  Turning around in time to catch Noelle watching him with lazy, lethargic hunger in her eyes, he had to acknowledge his partner’s instincts.

  “What can I say?” Noelle asked with an unapologetic shrug. “You look good to me. Really, really good.”

  “Ditto,” Mark said, surprised by how great he was feeling right now. Such a big change from a few weeks ago, or, even the past few years.

  As he’d told Harriet, everything was just fine. Better than fine. Because surrounded by family, with Noelle standing beside him, Mark suddenly recognized the strange lightness that had been making him smile for stupid reasons and almost actually look forward to this holiday season.

  He was happy. Really happy—with his professional life, and his personal life—for the first time in as long as he could remember. And he didn’t have to think too hard to figure out why. It was because of the beautiful woman standing by his side.

  Which, in his opinion, was right where she belonged.

  10

  WHEN RANDY TOLD SUE that her cousin had insisted on driving a few deep dish pizzas all the way to Christmas just to make her happy, Sue started to cry. Talk about a guilty conscience…all she’d wanted was a freakin’ piece of pizza, for heaven’s sake. How had it turned into this massive drama?

  “I’m sorry, honey. I thought you wanted it!” Randy said, sitting gingerly on the side of the bed, careful not to touch her. Sue was beginning to feel like a piece of rare china. Or a leper.

  “I did want it,” she explained. “But it was bad enough when I thought she was going to drive out and meet you halfway between here and Chicago. Now I’m going to lie here worrying until she arrives, and I’ll worry even more when she makes that long drive back tonight all by herself.”

  “But she’s not going to be by herself.”

  Sue’s tears dried instantly. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean,” her husband replied, looking relieved that she’d stopped the crying—at least for this thirty-second interval—“that she’s driving down with that guy, Mark, who was here last weekend.”

  “Yes!” Sue said, clenching her fist and punching it into the air. “I knew the video would do the trick.”

  Randy tsked and shook his head. “Are you ever going to learn how to stay out of other people’s business?”

  “No. I’m about to become a mother. It’s part of the job.”

  “One of these days you’re going to get yourself in trouble.” He gave her one of those disapproving frowns that always made her hot instead of anxious. “Someday you might be punished for your nosiness.”

  “Stop getting me turned on,” she said with a disgruntled huff. “You know it’s going to be weeks and weeks before we can even get back to the basics, never mind the whips and black leather.”

  Randy laughed deeply, aware she was teasing. He’d never in a million years do anything that might hurt her, and they both knew it. Even if she asked him to. Which, frankly, she never would. Despite her saucy words, Sue wasn’t into pain, which really should have made her feel better about the whole avoiding labor thing. But it didn’t. She was still very unhappy about it.

  “Will you hold me?” she asked softly, needing his touch. Since she’d been ordered to bed, her husband had been sleeping on a cot a few feet away and she missed him dreadfully.

  Carefully scooting closer, Randy slid one arm behind her back to cuddle her. As if aware of his presence, the baby gave a good strong kick. Sue not only felt it, she could see it. So, apparently, could Randy. “I think he’s saying, ‘Send down that pizza.’”

  “Or ‘Go, Auntie Noelle!’”

  Sighing even as he pressed a gentle kiss on her temple, Randy said, “Would you like me to go get you some ginger ale to go with your dinner?”

  Thinking it over, Sue pursed her lips and shook her head. “Nuh-uh. I think I want some…grapefruit juice.”

  He was too accustomed to her cravings to react with so much as a bat of an eye. “Uh, don’t have any, babe. I’m going to have to make a run to the supermarket. Or else ask your mother to.”

  She curled both her arms around one of his. “My mother’s not here. She went over to Marnie Miller’s house for dinner.”

  “Hope they hid the tea caddy.”

  Sue snickered.

  “I’ll be back in a few minutes. You’ll be okay that long, won’t you?”

  She didn’t let go of his arm. “Don’t leave me. Can’t you call someone and ask for a favor?” Not even attempting to hide the mischief in her voice, she continued. “Say, doesn’t your cousin work part-time at the grocery store during the holidays? Maybe he could swing by with some juice on his way home.”

  “Su-ue…” he said, drawing out her name like Ricky saying, “Lu-cy.”

  She said nothing, just staring unblinking into her husband’s eyes with a silent plea. Until Randy started to grin, then to chuckle. “What the hell, Jeremy always was an asshole, even before he screwed up Noelle’s life last year.”


  Throwing her arms around her husband’s neck, Sue gave him a big kiss. “Have I told you today how much I love you?”

  He nodded. “Right in between when you told me you were never having sex with me again because of your stretch marks, and the time you said if I even thought about looking at another woman while you’re laid up, you’d crush my head with the plaster snowman on the front porch.”

  Holding him close, she breathed in his familiar scent, tasted his warmth and his kindness, feeling his love for her roll off the man in waves. That love, and the love she felt for him in return, had been the foundation of her entire adult life. “I do, you know. I love you so much.” Lowering her voice, she took his hand and pulled it to her belly, to feel as the baby rolled over beneath her skin. “And we’re going to be so happy with our beautiful little gold medalist.”

  Randy nodded and kissed her eyelids, delicately stroking her stomach. “Yes, honey. I know we are.”

  NOELLE HAD SPENT A LOT of quiet time with Mark Santori since the day they’d met, in varying situations. Some sexual, some not. But this was, she believed, the first time they’d simply sat together in utter silence, holding hands in the dark.

  While waiting for the three pizzas they’d ordered—wanting to be sure Sue had enough to last her—they’d spent a half-hour socializing with Mark’s family. The entire group had welcomed Noelle into the fold, each brother or sister-in-law who’d walked in the door going through the whole introduction stage all over again. Noelle had almost asked Mark’s sister, Lottie, a striking young brunette, if she’d ever found the right dress the day after Thanksgiving. But she figured that would open up a whole new conversation, one she wasn’t quite ready to have with Mark’s mother sitting nearby.

  None of the Santoris had been able to hide their surprise that she and Mark were seeing each other, which made her really curious about Mark’s romantic past. She sensed there was a story there. Maybe tonight, during their long ride when he couldn’t get away or evade her questions, she’d find out more.

  Though she knew he’d been worried, she really liked his family. The Santoris were like something out of a TV sitcom. Or a wacky reality show. They’d all—she hoped—liked her, too.