LOVE on The Horizon (Breaking The Rules #1) (16 page)

“My obsession with cruise ships actually began when I was just twelve years old. We were vacationing in Venice. One day, my parents, sisters, and I were having lunch near the port. I watched in awe as the most beautiful ship I’d ever seen sat majestically in the harbor. Everyone I saw coming and going looked so happy. From that day on, I thought about that ship traveling to exotic places every week. I wondered what it would be like to meet people from all corners of the world, people whom I didn’t know or wasn’t related to. It sounded so carefree, so perfect. I wanted that.”

“I’m glad you chased it, because it led us to each other.”

He raised my chin with a fingertip until our eyes met. “It was the best decision I’d ever made, until the day I chose you.”

Our lips moved forward at the same time, connecting perfectly. Once we separated, he suggested, “Let’s go get our suitcases from the car. I want to show you where we’re going to spend some very valuable time these next few days.” With his raised brows and sexy smirk, I quickly surmised his suggestion was of the naked variety.

Marco’s plan was quickly debauched when his mother found us dragging our bags toward the guesthouse that sat beyond the pool. I used the term guesthouse loosely since it was bigger than most houses in my neighborhood back home. 

Marco carried on, his hands flailing animatedly around as the tone of his voice increased with each word. I knew he must have been angry, because he stuck to his native language the entire time.

Once he was done, she turned toward me with the same tight smile making an appearance, the warmth she showed earlier nowhere to be found. “I see you at dinner,” she said with a stern nod.

“What was that about?”

“She insisted we’d stay in the main house. There is absolutely no privacy, especially once my nieces and nephews get wind of me being home. She’ll get over it.”

I hadn’t seen him this stressed since the day we were discovered on
The Horizon
. Walking over to where he stood stiffly, I circled my arms around his waist in an attempt to better his mood. “If making her happy will make our time here easier on you, then I’m fine with it.”

“I’m not.” He placed a soft kiss on my forehead and then on my lips. “If you give in once, it will only get worse and worse. Believe me, this isn’t anything new. I know how to handle my mother. The woman has a heart of gold and would take the shirt off her back for you, but she can be a pain in the ass—worse than Ricky.”

Marco opened the door and led us into the most adorable house. Instantly, visions of living here with him filled my mind. He suddenly lifted me and carried me over the threshold.

“What are you doing?” I asked through giggles.

“Practice.”

“How long until dinner?”

He laughed at the look on my face. “Oh,
bella
, we have plenty of time.”

Miraculously, Mrs. Puglia warmed toward me when we resurfaced hours after her argument with Marco—well, kind of. She purposely sat between Marco and me on a big couch in a humongous family room, flipping through a photo album of Marco’s childhood. My irritated boyfriend would glance at me over her head, rolling his eyes every chance he got. During her show-and-tell, her Italian would slip often, but Marco was there to immediately interpret into English whenever it did…unless it was embarrassing, in which case he shook his head and said, “You don’t need to know.”

The comfortableness I had finally started to feel since our arrival quickly dissipated once his sisters came through the door. Preparing myself to be judged all over again, I stood stiffly beside him as he made the same introductions in half Italian, half English.

Sofia looked so much like Marco, where Isabella looked more like their mother. And just like their mother, polite smiles contradicted their penetrating gazes as they sized me up from head to toe while Marco introduced me.

The kids were adorable, ranging in age from ten to two. His four nieces and two nephews adored him, and seeing Marco interacting with them was the highlight of my visit so far. I sat smiling fondly as he roughhoused with the boys and teased the girls. One by one on his command, they each came up to me to say hello, curious as to who the American girl was that their uncle had brought home.

“Marco!” A deep, masculine voice bellowed from the entrance to the great room.

“Pa,” he said, stalking over to the older gentleman and pulling him into a warm embrace. Even though Mr. Puglia was slightly shorter than his son and gray peppered the hair at his temples, they could still be brothers. The man was proof that Marco would age well.

Marco turned and motioned me over. “Rebecca Stanton, this is my father, Vito Puglia.” He said a few sentences in Italian before asking his father to speak English.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Rebecca,” he said politely as we shook hands. Surprisingly, his English was almost as good as his son’s.

“Thank you, same here. You have a beautiful home.”

He shrugged in the same manner that Marco often did, “Eh, it’s just a house.”

Twins.

Marco fought a smile as Mr. Puglia continued. “I hope you’ll enjoy your time here in Florence. Is it your first time to
Italia
?”

“Yes. I’ve already fallen in love with your country.”

“
Sì
, it’s very beautiful here.” He cut his eyes to his son and added, “Maybe your beautiful girlfriend will convince you to finally stay home, get married, and start a family.”

“Pa.” Now it was my turn to fight a smile, earning me a stink eye from my boyfriend.

“I just make a suggestion,” he said, raising his hands innocently. “Miss Rebecca, would you like more wine?”

“Yes, thank you.”

Once he’d excused himself, Marco said, “Pa likes you.”

“And you know that how?”

“He suggested marriage.” He leaned closer and whispered, “And he couldn’t stop staring at your beautiful face.”

“Stop that.” I swatted his arm. He kissed my cheek and led me back to the couch. His sisters stopped speaking the moment we sat.

“
Lei
è bella
,” Sofia said to Marco.

He nodded and smiled warmly. “Yes, she is beautiful.”

When our eyes met, Sofia quickly added, “I’m sorry. I was just telling my brother you are very pretty.”

“
Grazie
,” I replied, earning me a genuine smile.

“
Lei sembra Clara
.” Both Sofia and Marco swung their gazes to Isabella.

“
Basta!
” Marco snapped, gritting his teeth as he did. They argued for several minutes, causing the tension in the air to thicken around us, and I had to assume it was me who was causing it. Sofia tried to intervene, but Marco and Isabella ignored her.

Suddenly his sisters excused themselves to help their mother with dinner, leaving us alone. Relief instantly engulfed me the moment they stepped out of the room. I watched helplessly as Marco scrubbed a hand over his face.

“Are you okay?”

“I was just about to ask you that,” he said, taking my hand in between both of his. “This can’t be easy for you. They aren’t terrible people; they are just passionate about their family.”

“I understand. I’m fine. I’m worried about you, though.” I reached my other hand to smooth the lines on his forehead. “Why did Isabella upset you?”

“My sister invited someone to dinner. It wasn’t intentional. She had no idea I would be here.”

“Clara?”

His brows shot up in surprise, and he nodded. “Yes.”

“She means something to you?”

“No, of course not.” Marco swallowed before adding, “Years ago, before I took the job with Sunset, we were engaged.”

“Wow. Engaged, huh?”

“We were very young.”

“Just about my age,” I blurted out.

He met my gaze, understanding my implication. “I was much less mature in my early twenties than you are,
bella
. In fact, she’s actually older than me by two years and is the same age as Isabella. They are best friends.”

“Ah, that explains a lot.” Isabella’s behavior suddenly made sense. Her best friend was once engaged to her brother, and here I was, fucking up a possible reunion.

“My sister never got over it. Please don’t take it personally. It has nothing to do with you. Looking back, I should have never proposed. Our families are very close and I was talked into it. It was a huge mistake. Since then, she married one of our friends.” I smiled in relief, yet he frowned. “They’re divorced now.”

“Oh,” I said on a sigh.

Marco squeezed my hand between his. “
Bella
, I have absolutely no feelings for her. If her being here is going to make you uncomfortable, we can leave, go to a hotel, and come back tomorrow.”

“Marco, I’m not going to force you to leave your family because your ex-girlfriend is coming to dinner. I can handle it.”

Without warning, he pulled me into his arms, kissing the top of my head over and over. “You are so amazing. You never cease to amaze me.”

I could do this
, I thought to myself. Sure, they all want me gone, but the one person I cared about wanted me to stay…and he’s all that mattered.

Before dinner, we all congregated in the great room. Witnessing his parents up close, it was easy to see why Marco was such a loving man. The love those two felt for each other was very obvious in the way they interacted. If they were near each other, they were touching. If they weren’t, their eyes would lock from across the room.

Marco’s two brothers-in-law were next to arrive and they seemed nice. I had a lovely conversation with Sofia. The only Puglia who had an issue with me was Isabella, who avoided me for the most part.

His cousin Gianni, his wife, Katia, and their toddler son dropped in when they heard Marco was home. Marco explained Gianni was the investor Ricky mentioned on our call. After dinner, Marco planned on asking Gianni to take a walk so he could proposition him in private.

Gianni was very sweet, and of all the people I’d met, he reminded me the most of Marco. Marco explained he was like a brother, and they were extremely close growing up.

When Marco had left Florence, Gianni was very angry with him and it took a while for him to get over it.

“
You’re leaving me with all these crazy women, and I’ll never forgive you for it
,” he had said the day Marco left. Gianni had three sisters of his own, and losing Marco affected him tremendously.

“Did he forgive you?” I asked, watching Gianni interact with his female cousins much how Marco did, with a dry sense of humor.

“He did, eventually. They arranged their wedding to be during my vacation so I could be the best man.” Marco turned to face me and added, “When we get married, he must be mine as well.”

I nodded with a shy smile. The thought of marrying Marco excited me tremendously. Getting married was not something I thought of often. I had resigned myself to thinking it may never happen and I might be one of those women who simply couldn’t find a person she’d even consider spending a year with, nonetheless the rest of my life.

But it happened, and being with him day and night this past week made me want it forever. We had much to do and much to discuss before the idea of a wedding could become a reality. Eventually, we’d have to repeat this circus back in Jersey when it’d be time to meet my brood.

The dynamics of meeting my family would be very different, but the circumstances would be the same. Much like his was, I didn’t have a doubt that my family would also be shocked when I introduced Marco, especially my brother Sam. Well, he’d just have to get over it. I also had a major gripe with him for getting engaged without telling me, so now we were even.

The enormous mahogany table easily sat nineteen of us with room to spare.

The noise level was through the roof.

I felt like I was in an Italian version of
My Big Fat Greek Wedding
.

From what I could tell, everything about the Puglias was larger than life.

The dinner began, and the food was never-ending. It was clearly an event, based on the pageantry of each steaming platter that made its way from the kitchen to us—and through it all, Marco’s ex was still missing.

He didn’t bring her up again and neither did I. Maybe with luck, she’d heard I was there and decided not to come. As time went on, I allowed myself to relax. Although the three glasses of wine I drank probably had a lot to do with my state of mind.

Marco sat beside me, often squeezing my hand beneath the table in a constant show of support. For the most part, the conversation was in English but would at times flip because his nieces and nephews only spoke Italian. Whenever it changed, he was quick to explain what was being said.

At one point during the meal, everyone started yelling, and hands began flailing around animatedly as they talked over each other. My heart leaped in my chest because it was probably about me. I leaned into Marco and asked, “Why are they fighting?”

He smiled before whispering in my ear. “They aren’t fighting. They’re discussing where they should go for the Christmas holiday next month.”

“You’re kidding?”

He shook his head with a half smile. “Welcome to my world.”

As if his words unlocked a secret passage to a shadowy underworld, the sound of the doorbell ominously clanged and echoed through the house. The Italian chatter instantly stopped, and Marco locked eyes with his sister Isabella.

I knew who it was based on the death grip he had on my hand, in the way he wouldn’t make eye contact with me, and when every pair of eyes, including the children, all cut to my face.

My eyes, however, were glued to the stunning brunette who should have been walking a runway instead of walking into the Puglias’ dining room.