Chapter 177

The next morning I wake up in Christian’s arms, my head nestled warm against his chest. But even if I am incredibly cozy here with my husband, my stomach growls deeply, letting me know that it has plans beyond me continuing to lay here.

I sigh, closing my eyes, trying very hard to ignore it.

But it turns over again, a loud, demanding noise that turns into a gnawing ache.

I take a deep breath and slowly begin to pull away from Christian, trying to move as slowly and as gently as I can so that I don’t wake him.

I fail almost instantly.

Christian’s arms tighten around me, pulling me close. “No,” he murmurs, shaking his head before shifting closer, resting his chin on top of my hair and making me laugh. “Stay, Iris. It’s too early. And it’s so warm here.”

I bite my lip a little, grinning, feeling…better. I mean, I’m still not comfortable in this house, and I have no idea how I’m going to face Lucy at some point. But…when I’m just here in Christian’s arms, wrapped up in his big fancy bed? It doesn’t seem so bad.

Still, my stomach growls again, and I feel its tug on a very visceral level. I really, really need something to eat.

“I’m starving,” I whisper to Chris. “You stay in bed – I’ll just go get a snack downstairs and come back.”

He groans, tightening his arms, not wanting me to go. “Just eat that steak on the bedside table.”

I laugh then, grinning up at him. “You want me to eat a steak that’s been sitting out for eight hours?”

He sighs, pulling back a bit and looking down into my face. “There are green beans there too. It’s…healthy.”

I laugh again and his face breaks into a smile as he studies me. Then he leans forward, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “I love it when you laugh like that,” he murmurs, holding me close for a second before sighing and letting me go. “Go eat up. I’ll meet you down there in a few minutes.”

I kiss him briefly on his shoulder as I roll over, swinging my legs off the bed and stretching as I stand.

“Iris?” Christian asks, hesitant.

I turn to him, curious.

“I know I shouldn’t ask you for anything right now but…do you think you could put a pot of coffee on?”

I burst into a smile and nod to him, because that’s precisely the kind of normalcy I’m seeking in my life right now – making coffee for my husband in the morning.

“Of course, baby,” I say with a happy sigh, turning and heading for the door. “Come down in ten minutes, I’ll have a cup waiting.”

I yawn as I make my way to the stairs, a little pleased to see that Joey isn’t there today, which means…things must be getting better, right? Safer. My stomach still growling loudly, I head down the stairs, wondering if there are any raw supplies in the fridge which I can use to actually cook something rather than waiting for the caterers to bring breakfast.

But as my mind turns over what I saw in there when I looked before, I stumble to a stop at the bottom of the stairs.

Because the kitchen is not empty. I am not alone.

“Ah, sister-in-law,” Elio says, turning towards me and then leaning against the counter dressed in a robe that does…very little to conceal the fact that he’s only wearing boxers and a white tank top beneath. “Good morning.”

I hesitate, remembering Giana’s warning, suddenly feeling very uncomfortable at the prospect of being alone with this man. He watches me as I stand frozen at the base of the stairs, and his low laugh as his eyes rove over me does absolutely nothing to quell my fears.

“Come on, little sister,” he says, putting particular emphasis on the last word as he gestures towards the coffee maker. “Come have a cup with me. And a chat.”

My eyes move to the coffee and I can tell instantly by its rather pale color that it’s a bad batch. I scowl, wondering how to handle this, how to toss out the coffee and not offend him or set off his temper. And something about this little problem brings me back to myself slightly, having something to train my mind on.

My movements are still hesitant, but I cross the room, stopping at the fridge and putting my hand on the handle. “Did…you make that batch?” I ask, glancing over at the coffee before pulling the door open, taking out the cream.

“I did,” he says, leaning against the counter, still watching me. “What, do you have a problem with it?”

“I just prefer a darker roast is all,” I murmur, stepping a little closer and standing up on my toes as I pull open the cabinet where I located the coffee yesterday, wondering if I can just…accidentally drop this batch in the sink? Or…

“Well, if the coffee is no good,” Elio murmurs, taking a step closer to me that makes me flinch. “Maybe I can talk you into something else.”

I whip my head towards him, my hand tightening around the cabinet’s handle. “What?”

“Come on, little sis,” he says, smirking, leaning forward as if to…to…smell me!? “Have a cocktail with me.”

“It’s morning,” I say, taking a step back, a little appalled.

“We’re Italian,” he says, his laugh booming out into the room. “Breakfast is a wonderful time for an aperitivo.”

“No, thank you,” I say with a sigh, reaching for the coffee pot, figuring that I’d better pour myself a cup of something before he whips up a glass of Campari or something. “Coffee will be…fine.”

If you can even call this coffee. I hide my grimace as my hand folds around the handle of the coffee pot.

“No, please,” Elio says as I begin to pull it forward, reaching out and wrapping his hand around mine. I instantly jump, dropping the coffee pot on the counter with a dangerous clatter. Luckily, though, it was a short drop, and no damage was done – but still, I look up into Elio’s face with wide, stunned eyes. “Let me, little donna. You’re a Queen, after all. Let your faithful servants do their work.”

I hesitate but then do as he says, stepping away, not knowing…what else to do.

Enzo begins to chat with me as he makes me a cup of coffee, asking me questions about my plans for the day, my relationship with Christian, all sorts of things. I answer his questions as briskly as I can, desperate to get out of this room, desperate to get back upstairs. But if he notices the tension in me – my eagerness to flee like a little doe – Elio makes no mention of it.

I stare at the broad expanse of his back as he turns it to me, reaching for the sugar when I tell him that’s how I take my coffee. And as he presumably spoons sugar into my mug – I can’t see it, at this angle – I study him, wondering how someone so similar Christian can be so…different.

And I don’t mean in their personalities – not really, the differences there make sense to me. Elio is just so…gross. He’s as big as Christian, and as broad of shoulder, but if he was ever fit and trim the way Christian is then he’s seriously let himself go in recent years. And – is that a bald spot starting on the back of his head? I lean forward to peer closer, trying to see – but with my height, it’s hard to know for sure.

Christian certainly doesn’t have one of those.

“Here you are, donna,” Elio murmurs, holding the cup out to me. I take it, hesitating, glancing towards the stairs, fully intending to go up.

“No, Iris,” he says as I turn.

Slowly, I turn back.

“Stay here,” he says, leaning back against the counter and taking a sip of his own coffee. “Have coffee with me.”

My stomach grumbles, reminding me of my original reason for wanting to come down here. But honestly, congealed gravy and cold green beans sounds great right now in comparison to staying another minute with Elio.

“Please,” he says, his face softening as he frowns. “We’ve gotten off on the wrong foot – and Giana has asked me to be kinder to you. For the same of family peace just…one cup of coffee. And then I’ll let you run off to wherever you want.”

I sigh a little, wondering how I can deny that because…god, it’s just such a reasonable request.

“All right,” I say quietly, turning back fully to him and raising my coffee cup to my lips.

And then, as I take my first sip, a sly little smile forms on his lips.