Filed to story: Submitting to My Bestie’s Daddy Read Online >>???
“I feel very lucky,” James said, placing his hand over mine on the table.
My father looked sour. I remembered that he didn’t like James very much. That sentiment didn’t seem to have changed over the weeks we’d been in Italy.
“And you both seem very happy together,” Sofia sighed at my father and my stepmother.
“We are,” my father said, perking up and taking his scowl off of James. “I never thought I could be this happy again after we lost Becca’s mother.”
“Ah, but fate smiled on you,” Sofia mused. “How wonderful to see. You’re all very lucky people to have each other.”
“Thank you,” my father responded, though he did throw another dark look at James.
James ignored him and kept hold of my hand. “I’m trying to convince this one to spend the rest of her life with me. Negotiations are still pending.”
I blushed, and Sofia giggled.
“You must have lost some of your negotiation skills if it is taking you this long, James Valentino!” Sofia said.
“Yes, well, maybe my charm is wearing off in my old age,” James chuckled.
My father actually growled.
“Dad,” I said in a low tone. “It’s fine. Don’t get wound up.”
It was so strange. My easygoing father had become a huge grouch in James’s presence many, many times since we’d been in Italy.
In this instance, he stood back from the table and slammed his silverware down. “I think we’ll skip dessert. Darling, I don’t think I can spend another minute in his presence.”
My stepmother nodded and stood as well, though she looked embarrassed.
“Dad…” I tried again.
Jacob Woods just shook his head and walked out with my stepmother.
Now it was my turn to be embarrassed. “Sorry about that. James and my dad…”
“Well, darling, James is nearly twice your age and a mafioso, so, I’m not sure if I were your father, I’d be particularly thrilled, either,” Sofia said kindly. “James, you haven’t even won over the parents? Shame on you.”
“He’s a tough nut to crack,” James grunted.
“That’s no excuse. I’m very disappointed in you, James. I thought you had more savvy. Or were at least more suave,” Sofia teased.
James grumbled under his breath, and for the first time, I found myself smiling at Sofia.
“So, you’re saying I’m not getting his A game?” I feigned being insulted.
“Not if he hasn’t won you over by now,” Sofia sniffed. “Baby trapping. James, so low.”
Baby tra-oh. “That was actually my fault.” I winced. “You see, Tally and I—” I remembered Tally and stopped talking, not wanting to upset James.
James squeezed my hand reassuringly. “No, go ahead.”
“Tally and I,” I began again, “went to the same clinic and had the same doctor for our depo shots. I got my messages mixed up with Tally’s and, well…”
“Oh dear.” Sofia patted my other hand. “Well, you and Tally did make some beautiful babies.” Her eyes sought James’s, and hers were a little wet with tears. “I am so sorry for your loss, James.”
James cleared his throat self-consciously. “Yes, well…”
“Dessert?” a servant holding a tray asked hesitantly as he entered the room.
“Yes, dessert,” James said quickly, changing the subject. “I think today is gelato.”
“Yes, Don Valentino. The best,” the servant confirmed.
Little crystal sorbet dishes were placed in front of James, Sofia, Layla, and me. The servant frowned at my father’s and my stepmother’s empty seats.
“Stomach issues. Nothing you need to be worried about,” I gave as a lame excuse.
“Of course. I will let Giana know she might need to check on them later to see if they need anything for their stomachs,” the servant replied with a nod.
“Thank you,” I said.
Sofia picked up her spoon and daintily scooped up a small sliver of gelato, bringing it gracefully to her mouth. “Mmm, this is good gelato.”
I took a somewhat larger spoonful, but James had already dug out a bit of his and held it to my lips.
Closing my mouth around the confection, I let it melt on my tongue and moaned loudly. “This is incredible.”
James smiled. “I’m glad you like it. And I promise to work harder with your father. And with you.”
I laughed. “James, I was only teasing. I think you’re doing just fine with me.”
“Tell me that again when we’re shopping for wedding sets,” James said with a lopsided grin.
Wedding sets? I looked down at my bare finger. What would it be like to be married to James?
Sofia and James smiled at one another.
“I think this is a good start,” Sofia beamed.
Becca.
After gelato, James escorted us to a nice study lined with books and scattered with comfortable furniture. James poured us some after-dinner drinks—grappa—and we sat on two sofas, James next to me, Sofia across on another loveseat.
“Are you ready to get up and do all of this again tomorrow?” Sofia asked, winking at us. “There’s a wake at the Cathedral before mass, is there not?”
I groaned and leaned my head against James’s shoulder. “My feet are never going to survive.”
“Might I suggest flats?” James said.
Sofia and I both looked at him in horror.
“Bite your tongue, sir! Flats. At an Italian funeral. My dear mama is probably rolling in her grave,” Sofia responded, crossing herself.
“I don’t want to shame your uncle at his own funeral by failing to dress appropriately,” I added.