“Damn, that’s good.”
I hear Dom inhale sharply and open my eyes to find him watching me with his heated gaze.
“I think I love watching you eat,” he murmurs.
“I am good at it,” I reply with a laugh, and sip my wine. “This wine is excellent with the sauce.”
“I know.” His smile is smug.
“So, your family was a pain in the ass today,” I say, encouraging him to keep talking. I love the sound of his voice.
He stops twirling pasta on his fork and stares at me with a frown. “No. My family is never a pain in the ass. They can be challenging, frustrating even, but never a pain in my ass.” He sets his fork down and takes a sip of his wine. “My family is the best part of my life.”
“Better than the vineyard?”
“Better than anything.”
“That must be nice,” I murmur, and take a bite of pasta to give my hands something to do. I suddenly feel self-conscious and jealous, and that’s just ridiculous. Not everyone has a tight family.
“Tell me about your family.”
“Oh, trust me, you don’t want that story.”
“I do trust you, and I do want that story.”
I take a deep breath and another sip of wine. This man is good with words.
“We’re not close.”
“Why?”
I shrug and keep my gaze on my dinner. “There wasn’t a specific reason, we just never were terribly close. I don’t speak to them now. Why did you wait so long to find Steven?” I ask, and immediately want to call the words back. “I’m sorry. You don’t have to answer that.”
“I don’t mind.” He uses his bread to soak up any remaining sauce on his plate, pops it in his mouth, and sits back in his chair. He pushes his fingers through his hair, while he gives my question some thought.
Steven Montgomery is the patriarch of the Montgomery family, and it came to light only about a year ago that Dominic was the son that Steven never knew about.
“When my mother was alive, it felt like a betrayal to her to want to find him,” he confesses, and swirls the wine in his glass absentmindedly. “She gave me a great life, Alecia. She was so young.”
Finished with my own meal, I push my plate away, lift my glass, and stand. “Let’s go sit by the fireplace for story time.”
“Good idea.” He grins and follows me to the fireplace, flipping a switch that makes the flames come to life, before sitting next to me on a cozy loveseat. He shifts toward me, with one knee up on the cushion, so he can look me in the eye.
“She was young,” I prompt him.
“Very. She was twenty-two when I was born. She was here in the States on a scholarship for college, and intended to always stay here. She didn’t want to move back to Italy. But, she didn’t have family here, and being a single parent is tough, so when I was about five, we went back to live with her family in Tuscany.
“My grandmother and grandfather welcomed us and loved us. We lived on their vineyard, which is where I learned to love the lifestyle.” He reaches over and pushes a strand of my hair behind my ear and rubs my earlobe between his thumb and forefinger.
The man is forever touching me.
And I don’t seem to mind.
“Mama worked as a personal assistant for a high-powered hotelier based in Florence, which was about twenty minutes from our home. When I was sixteen, the hotelier decided to come to the States to build a new resort, and he of course expected Mama to come with him, so we both came.”
“What did you think of that?” I ask. I can’t take my eyes off of him. He’s so expressive as he talks; his accent more pronounced when he speaks of his family and the home of his childhood.
“I didn’t want to come. I was horrible to her. I had suspicions that she was having an affair with him, and that’s why he wanted her to come with him.”
My eyebrows climb into my hairline. “Was she?”
“Probably. But if they were, it was discreet. I do know that they had a great deal of affection and respect for each other.”
“That’s nice,” I murmur.
“So, we came to California. Mama’s boss, Arturo Baldovini, was building a big resort near Sonoma.”
“Wine country,” I murmur with a grin, as Dom refills both our glasses, emptying the bottle.
“Exactly. Once we settled in, I did well. I took jobs with the vineyards during the harvest, earned my own money. I graduated from high school there and then went to college at Sonoma State University.”
“Why there?”
“I didn’t want to be far from my mom, just in case she needed me.” He shrugs. “But then the resort was finished in my sophomore year, and Arturo and Mama returned to Italy.”