Tempted and Taken, page 26
Then he realized he’d already found shades of that man, thanks to Liza. She’d brought back his laughter, taught him how to trust again, forced him to stop focusing inward and to see the world and the people around him.
Without realizing it, she’d given him the strength to talk to his brothers. At the time, he’d thought he was giving up, but now, he could see she’d opened his eyes to the importance of family, of how much he longed to not just be present in Gage and Conor’s life but to be a part of it.
Turning the page in the sketchbook, Matt picked up his pencil and began a new drawing.
This one was of Liza, playing basketball with the kids in Promise House, her hair pulled back in a ponytail, knees bent as she prepared to shoot the ball. In the background, he sketched Devonte cheering her on as Matt stood in front of her, prepared to block.
Matt worked on the drawing until he couldn’t keep his eyes open. Crawling into bed, he had his first sound sleep since the day he’d pushed Liza away.
When he woke up, he was not only refreshed, he was optimistic. He returned to his desk, to the sketchbook, his fingers flying over the pages as too many years of images fought to find their way out. Every emotion bled out of him onto the page. Therapy through art.
He recreated the drawing his dad had destroyed of Gage and Conor tossing the football; he added one of Arnold and Johnnie sharing their first dance after their wedding; another one of Mom, playing video games in the living room with Gage as Conor sat nearby, his nose buried in a book.
However, most of his drawings were of Liza—her basking in the sun in Hawaii, dancing the hula, sprawled out in his bed as his boring Egyptian cotton sheets just barely covered her naked body. He tucked the two sketches of her that he’d drawn in Hawaii—of her at the gala and on New Year’s Eve—into the sketchbook as well.
Then he spent hours working on a portrait of her, struggling to capture those expressive brown eyes of hers. Probably because they were a kaleidoscope of the emotions he’d put there—resignation, happiness, mischief, sadness, confusion, hope…love. That was the one he was trying to recreate, but seeing it in his mind’s eye hurt too much, so he kept losing sight of it.
Three days later, Henri was probably crying at work after another request from Matt that he clear his schedule, while he remained at his desk at home, drawing as if his life depended on it.
Staring at his portrait of Liza, he knew it was time.
Time to find her, to try to make things right.
Rising, he left his office and was about to head upstairs to take a shower.
Matt turned at the sound of the elevator doors opening. Only his brothers had access to these floors, so he wasn’t surprised when he turned to find Gage standing there, giving him an annoyed look.
“Okay. Time’s up, Matt.”
Matt grinned. “You’re too late. I’ve already figured that out.”
Gage must have anticipated a fight because it took a few seconds before his scowl faded replaced with a smile. “Perfect. And because I’m such a good brother, I’m going to help you.”
Matt stepped out of his car, thanking his driver, who would return upon request. Taking a deep breath, he prepared himself for the coming evening.
Gage had stopped by his apartment a few hours earlier, issuing an invitation to some “surprise” celebration dinner. Matt, anxious to find Liza, had started to refuse until Gage told him she would be there.
Matt had lived most of his adult life with regrets, the biggest being his decision to leave his mother alone the night she died.
He didn’t want to do that anymore.
Couldn’t do that.
Forcing Liza to leave had been another colossal mistake. One he had to try to make right. For his sanity, for his broken heart.
Somehow, someway, he’d find a way to earn her forgiveness for the things he’d done to her family, for the times he’d pushed her away, for…God…for all of it.
He was a Russo.
Which meant he was strong, strong enough to admit when he was wrong.
He was ruthless, ruthless enough to fight tooth and nail to deserve the love of the woman he couldn’t live without.
He was smart, smart enough to turn the tide, to point his ship in the right direction by apologizing for past sins and hurts.
He was determined, determined enough to put in the work, to put in however much time it took to win her back, to show her how fucking much he loved her.
Matt had looked deeper, and now, he was going to show the world who he really was.
Walking toward the entrance of Chives, he smiled when he saw Conor leaning against the front door.
“What are you doing outside?” Matt asked.
“Waiting for reinforcements,” Conor said, only half-jokingly. “Gage’s guest list, for whatever this is, is very Moretti-heavy.”
Matt glanced through the restaurant window, sighing when he spotted Tony and Luca. Tonight was going to be harder than he’d thought, but now that he was here, and Liza was so near, he refused to walk away.
He slapped Conor on the shoulder, a show of camaraderie. “You’d probably be smarter to go in before me. Get clear of the door. I’m going to be public enemy number one in there.”
Conor shook his head. “Gage assured me there would be no bloodshed. It was the only way I would agree to let him hold this weird shindig in my restaurant.”
That was when Matt realized there was a sign on the door that said, “Closed for private function.”
“You closed the whole restaurant?” Matt asked.
“Gage insisted this was one of those go big or go home occasions.”
“Okay.” Matt had no clue what to make of that. “Well, ready or not?” He’d intended for his words to bolster them, not come out as a question.
Conor gave him a “why not” shrug, and the two of them walked inside, stopping just over the threshold.
“See why I needed you?” Conor said. “I swear to God every single Moretti is here. Even the two female cousins who moved to Baltimore.”
Matt’s gaze traveled from one corner of the restaurant to the next, not that he was taking note of exactly who was there like his brother. He was searching for one person, and one only.
He wasn’t sure whether to feel relieved or disappointed when he didn’t spy Liza anywhere in the crowd.
“You made it!”
Matt grinned as Gage approached, two beers in his hands. He offered one to Matt and one to Conor. Conor accepted it gratefully, chugging half down in one gulp. Matt took it but didn’t risk a drink. He’d need his wits about him if he was going to make his way through this land mine of—no doubt—angry relatives to find Liza.
“You weren’t exactly forthcoming about your guest list,” Matt said. Gage had used the words “small celebration with a few friends,” then he’d mentioned Liza was attending, dangling that carrot effectively. Matt had envisioned Liza and Gage’s much smaller group of friends, not the entire damn family. It had been his hope to pull her away for a moment to talk in private. There wasn’t a private corner in this entire restaurant. He recalled joking once with Liza about her family’s fondness of packing every house full of relatives. Tonight definitely fit that bill.
Gage laughed. “If I’d told you it was a big party, one with a bunch of Morettis on the guest list, would you have come?”
“This isn’t a bunch,” Matt grumbled. “This is all of them.”
Gage, the shameless bastard, just grinned. Matt wanted to be annoyed with his brother, but he couldn’t. For the first time since they were kids, Matt felt genuinely close to Gage and Conor. Both of them had called him daily since their intervention to check on him, and he got a feeling nothing was going to dim his happiness over that for a long time. Not even a Moretti party.
“I’m happy you’re both here,” Gage said.
“Are you going to tell us what this is all about?” Conor asked.
Gage shook his head. “Not yet. Soon. Promise. Come in, join the party. Stop blocking the entrance. It’s a fire hazard.” And with that, he walked away, joining a huge group of Morettis who immediately laughed loudly at something his brother said.
“Charming fucking bastard,” Conor muttered.
Matt chuckled. “Should we…” He gestured toward the dining area. Some of the tables had been shifted out of the center and lined up against the wall, where huge steaming trays of food were set up buffet-style. “Different menu tonight?”
Conor shook his head. “Catered by the Moretti women. Every style of pasta known to man is over there. And it smells fucking incredible.”
The area cleared of tables was now being used as a makeshift dance floor, though there were only a few people on it—Jess and Rhys spinning their son, Jasper, around to “Old Time Rock & Roll,” while the boy laughed; Liza’s brother Elio and his wife, Gianna, swaying slower, their baby daughter between them, her arms and legs flailing wildly as if she was trying to dance as well.
Matt felt—Jesus—a pang of envy as he watched the parents with their children. What would he give to be out there on that dance floor with Liza, the two of them spinning their own kids around, laughing and acting silly.
A family of his own. Matt wanted it so bad he could taste it.
“Regardless of the delicious food, I’m happy staying right here,” Conor said. “Close to the exit.”
Matt laughed, but the sound faded quickly when Tony approached.
“Matt,” Tony said, nodding his head once in greeting. “Conor.”
“Hello.” Matt braced himself. His last meeting with Moretti had been worse than the high school scene, but he’d vowed to start righting the wrongs of the past. Tony was a good place to start because he’d sure as hell wronged the man. “Listen, Tony—” he began.
Tony cut him off. “I didn’t have a chance to thank you the last time we were together.”
Matt wasn’t expecting it when Tony stuck his hand out. He accepted the handshake, moving by rote, confused. “Thank me?” He wondered why in the hell Tony thought he owed him anything more than a punch in the face.
“For forgiving my uncle’s debt.”
Matt was speechless for a moment, then he said, “No, Tony. I’m sorry. For your uncle, for all that shit I pulled back in high school. I don’t have any excuse other than I…well…I was a grade-A douche and this apology is long overdue.”
Tony smiled. “Apology accepted.”
“Just like that?”
Tony laughed. “We’re almost forty, man. A lot of that shit happened nearly twenty years ago. Besides, according to Rhys, grudges give you wrinkles, though I doubt he has any medical research to back that up. He just says it to shut me up when I bitch nonstop about losing a bet over a hockey game to my brother, Joey.”
Matt hadn’t expected this to be so easy. “Brothers,” he joked, aware Conor was standing there listening. “Always bring out our competitive worst.”
“Hey,” Conor interjected.
The three of them laughed.
“Thank you,” Matt said sincerely to Tony.
“There you are!”
Matt turned, confused when an older woman barreled directly toward him.
“I’ve been waiting for you,” the woman said.
“For me?” Matt asked, wondering who she was.
Tony offered the introduction. “Matt, this is my aunt Berta. Renzo’s wife.”
Shit.
“Mrs. Moretti,” Matt began, anxious to offer this apology as well. He hated knowing he’d caused Liza’s beloved aunt and uncle so many years of stress and worry.
“No, no, no.” The woman waved his words away. “Everyone calls me Aunt Berta.”
Matt didn’t have a clue if that was information or an invitation. He exchanged a glance with Conor, who shrugged, clearly as baffled as he was.
Before he could say more, the woman—Aunt Berta—was thrusting a covered tray into his hands. “These are for you. A batch of my homemade biscotti, fresh from the oven today.”
Matt stared down at the tray, wondering if he’d somehow slipped into an alternate universe. Or maybe he’d suffered a total mental break and none of this was real at all. “I don’t…understand.”
Aunt Berta linked her arm through Tony’s. “My nephews told me what you did.”
Matt glanced at Tony. If that was true, shouldn’t she be reading him the riot act rather than baking him cookies?
“Ms. Mor—” he started again, stopping when the woman raised one eyebrow. “I wanted to offer you an apology for…for my behavior. For causing your husband so much stress, for threatening his livelihood, his business.”
“You tore up that marker. You forgave the debt,” she said as if that was enough. Matt wasn’t sure it was. “My Renzo was a good man. I know he…” Aunt Berta batted away a tear. “I know he wasn’t perfect, but he was good. I wanted to thank you for not holding his weakness against our family.”
“Please don’t thank me,” Matt said. “I don’t deserve your thanks.”
“Nonsense. Now, I plan to stop by your office one afternoon this week with a pan of my lasagna. A good Italian boy like you? I bet you love pasta.” She didn’t give him a chance to answer, just kept plowing forward. “Does Tuesday work for you?”
“Yes, but you don’t have to—”
“Perfect. I’ll bring some garlic bread as well. You can’t have lasagna without garlic bread,” she said, smiling widely. Then she stunned him even more by reaching out and hugging him tightly, whispering “thank you” once more before releasing him. “Tony told me where you work, so I’ll see you Tuesday,” she said, before returning to the party.
Tony snickered at Matt’s outright shock. “You might want to get used to that. Aunt Berta’s gratitude comes in the form of casseroles. Speaking of, I’m about to hit the buffet. Nonna made her eggplant parmesan. You might want to get over there and make a plate before my family devours it all.” And with that, Tony walked away.
Matt turned to Conor. “We’re in the twilight zone.”
Conor clearly agreed. “Yeah. FYI—I’m coming to your place Tuesday night for dinner.”
Matt laughed loudly, ready to tell Conor if the lasagna smelled as good as this restaurant did, he wasn’t inclined to share.
Spoons chiming against wine glasses drew their attention as Gage and Penny stood up.
“We want to thank you for coming tonight.” Gage’s arm was wrapped around Penny’s shoulders, looking down at her with a love that was almost tangible. “Penny and I wanted to do something special for our family and friends, for everyone who has supported us through our first year of marriage. We also wanted you to be the first to know…we’re having a baby!”
A loud cheer rang throughout the restaurant as Penny and Gage kissed.
“Baby Russo will be arriving in August,” Gage added, he and Penny taking off the sweaters they’d been wearing to reveal coordinating T-shirts. Gage’s said “Daddy to Be,” with a computer-loading image that said, “please wait” across his chest. Penny’s was the same, only the words were over her stomach and said “Baby.” Matt had to admit they were perfect for his tech-mad brother and his IT wife.
Conor slapped Matt on the back. “How about that? We’re going to be uncles!”
Matt’s smile mirrored his brother’s. For so many years, their family had felt so small, so fractured, but now, piece by piece, it was growing, mending.
They waited patiently as countless family members hugged the couple, congratulating them before making their way over.
Matt gave Penny a kiss on the cheek, then hugged his brother. “I’m happy for you both.”
“This is great news,” Conor added before tacking on a tease. “But I thought most couples had the big-ass party for the gender reveal.”
Gage smirked at Matt. “That was the original plan, but this guy needed a kick in the pants now. Not a couple months from now.”
Matt frowned. “What does that mean?”
Gage leaned closer, lowering his voice. “Have you pulled your head out of your ass about Liza yet?”
Matt narrowed his eyes. “Are you telling me you had this party just to throw me and Liza together?”
Gage lifted one shoulder casually. “It only took me a week to figure out letting Penny go was the biggest mistake of my life. Crashed her birthday party to tell her so. You’re way more stubborn than me, so I thought I’d better give you two weeks. Plus, if you’re going to be with Liza, you need to get used to being surrounded by Morettis. This way, you can clear the slate in one fell swoop and then the two of you can get on with it.”
Matt shook his head, chuckling. “I swear to God, you must have been dropped on your head as a baby.”
Gage laughed. “Tell me I’m wrong.”
His brother not only wasn’t wrong, he was fucking brilliant. But Matt knew better than to feed that ego, so he crossed his arms. “I’m pleading the Fifth.”
Conor sighed. “Shit. There’ll be no living with the guy now.” Conor raised a finger and pointed it at Gage. “And before you get any wild ideas in your head, I do not want or need you playing matchmaker in my life.”
Gage shrugged. “I make no promises because if you’re fucking up, I will step in. I think interventions and impromptu parties might be my new thing.”
Matt was afraid his brothers were putting the cart before the horse when it came to him and Liza. He started to tell them so, but he didn’t get the chance because Conor, Gage, and Penny were all distracted by something behind Matt.
“I think I’ll go make a plate,” Conor said, walking away without waiting for a response. Then Penny and Gage stepped away, pretending they’d just spotted someone they wanted to talk to.
Matt knew who was behind him. He could smell her perfume.
Taking a deep breath, he turned around.
Liza stood there, looking—fuck him—so gorgeous. She wore skin-tight blue jeans and a dark green sweater that hung off one shoulder. Her hair was down, curling slightly at the ends. He’d been dreaming of her eyes since the last time he saw her, trying to capture them in his sketch of her. Now he knew without a doubt, there was no way he’d ever manage to capture the depth, the emotion, the sheer beauty of them. Liza’s eyes were truly the mirror to her soul.
