“And his dad never went after her?”
He shakes his head. “Said she wasn’t worth the trouble, but I think there’s more to it than that, regardless of what Luca says.”
“Either way, his father sounds like a real bastard. Is your mom still in Florida?”
“Yeah. Jupiter. She went to a party up there and met some rich friend of Burt Reynolds, twenty years older than her. They got married, like, six months later.”
“She’s happy then?”
Anthony’s smile is…hm. Wistful?
After thinking about it for a bit, he finally answers, “She is. Her husband knows everything and is super protective of her. He also helped her come around on the gay stuff, so I have to respect that, you know?”
“Why don’t you sound so sure?”
“Eh, I dunno. He’s seventy-something now, but I shouldn’t hold that against him. He fucking adores her. Spoils her rotten. And she seems to enjoy his company. I just…there’s a part of me that knows she looked at his bank account first because she’s always had to. And I wish she could’ve fallen in love for the sake of falling in love.” He grabs my hand, kissing it. “She sacrificed a lot for me, and I’m sad she never had the opportunity to experience a fraction of what I feel for you.”
I get lost in the sincerity of his declaration, knowing he means it down to his toes.
“So if she’s better with the gay stuff, does that mean you two still talk?”
“Uh…sure. We text. She has Snapchat now, so I get a lot of pictures of sand.”
Wondering if his mom wasn’t the only one looking for an angle, I ask, “Do you think Luca took care of your mom so he could take advantage of your tactical training when you came home? Was he looking to make you his consigliere from the beginning?”
“No,” he says, absolutely certain. “But he needed help when his father died, and I stepped in where I could.”
“Because you take care of those you love.”
He dips his chin. “I love Luca like a brother for what he did for my mom. And he made me his consigliere to protect me, not the other way around.”
“You don't have to talk about it, but it sounds like Luca didn't just get to step into his father's shoes. I assume things got violent.”
“You know the exception to my rule, right?” Anthony’s eyes, again so vulnerable, meet mine, asking for acceptance.
I stretch up and kiss his cheek. “The one about only breaking the law for your loved ones?”
“Let’s just say that someone with the right amount of skill,” he says, gesturing his thumb at himself, “realized that leaving Luca’s uncles alive would lead to far more bloodshed.”
I crawl into his lap and wrap my arms around him, hugging him tight. “You're a good son and a good friend.” He pushes his forehead into mine as I continue, “And you eat ass like nobody's business.”
He looks up at the ceiling, shaking his head as a chuckle escapes his lips. I push him back onto the bed, kissing him with everything I’ve got.
* * *
After the heavinessof our conversation, we kiss for a while and then make a small picnic that we take to the beach. It is indeed very private, but we’re too spent and leery of getting sand in the wrong places to do anything more than hold on to each other until the stars come out, the Milky Way bright against the night sky.
We sleep in the next day, only getting up to forage for sustenance.
“Ford says there's this great market about a mile or two down the road. Want to give it a shot?” I ask, rubbing my belly.
Anthony scratches at the scruff growing in along his jaw and shrugs. “Do you think they have good food?”
“I'm sure they do. You know the seafood’s gotta be great.”
He stands, glorious in his nudity, and stretches. “Yeah, let's do that.”
We shower and get dressed, and I don't think I’ll ever get over the way Anthony looks so fucking hot in linen shorts and a Hawaiian shirt. He's also wearing flip-flops, which is really weirding me out.