A Beautiful Distraction(35)

“Three.”

“And you’re naming him Rafael, right? The little dude needs a studly name, ya know. Don’t let Luca talk you into using his name. And hell, definitely don’t let Dad talk you into using his.”

She snorted, engulfing oxygen between a fit of laughter. “What if it’s a girl, huh?” Her apparent hopefulness was engraved in her eyes.

He sighed. “You know it’s a boy, Till. Just get used to the idea now. There hasn’t been a woman born into the Murano family in seven generations. A baby girl’s not in your cards, sweetheart.”

Rafe’s mom always would say that God knew better than to put a baby girl into the Murano family. She wouldn’t stand a chance against the men in his family. She’d be so damn spoiled and protected that she would never need to leave the house, and if she did, she would have generations of Murano men breathing down her neck.

If there’s one thing my Murano men know how to do, it’s love, his mom would say. My boys love deep; it’s in their blood.

“I don’t know,” Tilly sang. “I kinda got a feeling.”

Rafe looked over her shoulder when the screen door thudded against the wood frame. “Feeling about what?” Luca asked, walking into the kitchen. Rafe nodded his head in greeting at his older brother but Luca was too besotted by his wife to even notice him. Wrapping his arms around Tilly from behind, he kissed her neck.

She giggled. “Just that you’re going to be a daddy to a sweet baby girl here very soon.”

“I know you want a little girl, Till. But, baby, I don’t think it’s gonna happen,” he said, laughing as he pressed a kiss to her pouting lips.

“I’d be just as happy with a boy,” she assured, giving in to him as she sat back down at the small round table next to the window.

Luca locked an arm around Rafe’s neck. “As long as he doesn’t favor his uncle Rafe, right?” he jabbed, patting his back. “Good to see you, brother.”

“Where is everyone?” Rafe asked.

“Out back. Marco and Dad are talking business—well, Marco is talking business and Dad is drinking beer.”

“Where’s Leo?”

Tilly shifted her eyes to Luca, widening them slightly in that shut-the-hell-up kind of way that women seem to be known for.

Everyone always wanted to protect the baby of the family, cut him slack, pacify his problems. Rafe didn’t. Till might keep her mouth shut, but Luca always struggled hiding things from him. “Luca?”

“Leo’s taking care of some things at the garage today,” he finally said, but he didn’t look Rafe in the eyes when he said it. He was a piss-poor liar.

“Bullshit,” Rafe barked, shouldering past Luca as he stomped through the kitchen to the screen door leading out back. Rafe loved his baby brother, but they butted heads more than anyone else in the family. Leo was twenty-two and heading nowhere fast, and it pissed Rafe off. They’d all had it hard since their mom died, and Lord knows Rafe went through his own shit when he was younger. But Leo, it was one fucking thing after another with him. He just never learned. Drugs, vandalism, fights—he was spiraling.

And he was just like Rafe.

Which is exactly why Rafe was so damn hard on him. Luca was a straightlaced CEO worth more than Rafe could even count. Marco was smart. He was a damn good businessman, and a master in the kitchen and with the ladies. Then there was Leo—the baby of the family, and the royal fuckup. Rafe got it. The two of them were made differently than their other brothers. They didn’t thrive on intellectual growth or desire career success the way Marco and Luca did. They earned their gratification by the sweat on their brows and the burn in their muscles.

Rafe had his soldiers; he had his dedication to his country to keep his head afloat. But Leo struggled to find that one thing to keep his ass out of trouble. Nothing mattered enough to him. He worked at a restoration garage, rebuilding old cars and selling them to rich suckers like Luca. And he was good at it too—really good. But he was going to piss it all away if he didn’t pull his head from his ass and wake the fuck up. Whatever he had going on, he needed to figure it out—soon.

The screen door screeched, banging against the house as Rafe flung it open and stepped out into the chilly autumn air. “Rafael!” his dad exclaimed, standing up from his chair next to the fire pit. His dad opened his arms and Rafe returned an enthusiastic hug. He missed his old man, and regardless of the foul mood Leo’s absence had put him in, he was going to try his hardest not to take it out on his dad.

“Good to see you, Dad,” he said as he pulled away. “Where’s Leo?”