L'amore: The Luminara Series (38 page)

Hazel has sprawled out over the other sofa and looks very relaxed. The music changes to The Lumineers’ “Ho Hey.” Savio picks Roberta up and twirls her around the floor. She giggles and throws her head back, allowing her hair to flow down her back.

Sipping my fruity iced drink, I look over to Lucca behind the bar. His shirt sleeves are rolled up as he mixes drinks. Damn, he knows that sight makes me lose control and has a direct line to my sex. It’s far too distracting and utterly hot. He winks at me, then leans over the bar, placing an umbrella in a fruity concoction.

The men go downstairs to prepare dinner, and Kate and Sarah ask what happened this afternoon. Anna and I explain quickly, desperate to put it behind us. By the time the boys have brought homemade pizzas from the kitchen, we’re on our third cocktail and giggly.

When I see the huge pizza platters, I suddenly lose my appetite, thinking about last night’s dream and the first time I tasted pizza. I choose to entertain Antonia while the others eat.

“Why are you not eating?” Lucca asks.

“Oh, I’m just not feeling like it right now,” I passively reply.

“You should eat. I am worried that you are fretting over today.”

“No, I’m fine, and I haven’t given it another thought, honestly. This little madam is keeping me distracted. I’m good, so please eat yours, and I’ll get something if I’m hungry,” I reply more assertively.

“I thought you loved pizza?” I did tell Lucca about my nightmare last night, but it was more about how Michael manipulated me and made me watch him pleasure himself. I never mentioned the pizza. I thought it was irrelevant until now.

“I do, but I’m just not in the mood right now. I’m sorry.” I shrug and sit on the floor, crossing my legs Indian style with Antonia between them climbing over me.

“You know, you think you’ve tasted pizza, but not until you’ve tried Savio’s. His are to die for, even better than mine,” Lucca says with a boyish smirk. He lifts a slice of pizza, takes a bite, then leans over me and holds out the slice to my mouth.

“Okay, I’ll try it.” Ordinarily I love pizza and it does smell great. I bite into it, closing my eyes with mixed emotions, but what’s more empowering is the fusion of flavours, the texture, and the hot, soft, thin base.

It’s divine.

Closing my eyes, I don’t realise I’m making a low humming sound.

“Christ, you look sexy as fuck. Who would have thought pizza could be so orgasmic.” He chuckles.

Instantly, I drop the pizza base on the platter and swallow a long, hard gulp, trying to pass it by the lump in my throat. “I’m done,” I say sharply.

“Why? What is going on with you? Have I said something wrong?” Confused, he knits his brow then tilts my head up. I know he had no way of knowing and it wasn’t intentional, and now he looks upset that he’s hurt me.

“I’ll tell you later, but please don’t make a scene.” I sit Antonia on her play mat, supported by cushions, and he takes my hand, excusing us as he leads me down the two staircases to the kitchen. He lifts me up onto the counter then places his hands on either side of me.

“Okay, talk. I am listening.”

Sighing, I relay my nightmare to him in full this time—the first encounter with Michael Parks involving the pizza. He releases the air he has been holding then strides over to the fridge. He opens a bottle of Chianti and pours us both a glass of wine then lifts a ciabatta loaf and slices it. After rummaging around in the fridge, he places ingredients down on the counter.

“What are you doing?” I ask. He hasn’t even commented yet and his behaviour is worrying me.

“I am making us a little something. It is not the right night for pizza, so I will muster something else up because I am not having you starve yourself.”

He spreads leftover homemade pesto on the bread with salami, parma ham, sun dried tomatoes, basil, and mozzarella, then places it under the grill. He washes the board down with his back to me. He isn’t looking at me, and he isn’t asking any questions. He’s angry.

“I shouldn’t have told you. I’m sorry,” I whisper.

Turning around, he shakes his head then runs his fingers through his hair. “No, I want you to tell me. I want you to be honest. If I am going to help you, I need to know about your nightmares, but it pains me to think of what that evil fucking monster did to you. It hurt last night when you told me, but I wanted to be strong for you, but now this, Lexi. It tears me up that he …” He punches the pantry door in rage.

“Come here,” I say cautiously, because he’s going to breakdown. In role reversal, I need to be compassionate and reassuring towards him. Comfort him. I take his face in both my hands and kiss him softly. “I’m here, right here, and I’m not going anywhere. It’s all in the past, Lucca. He can’t touch me or harm me. I have you and you take it all away. You make me feel whole. Please don’t be upset or feel guilty about what you said. You couldn’t have known the pizza would upset me. I need you to be strong and forget about it all. Love me right here and think about our future. Please, calm down … for me.”

He closes his eyes, taking long, slow, steady breaths. “He is still fucking harming you, Lexi … your mind. You are having nightmares about it, and I wish I could take it all away.” His voice is broken.

I hold him, tenderly caressing him the way he does for me. I discover it’s great therapy being the giver of comfort, and it relaxes me too. We sit on the kitchen floor, barefoot in our denim jeans with our wine, and eat our toasted ciabatta bread. There is something powerful and special about this moment binding us together.

Simple.

Forgiving.

Honest.

Relaxed, I rub my bare feet along Lucca’s exposed ankles and lean my head on his shoulders, contemplating the last few weeks. I’m grateful.

“You know I will do anything for you, and I will give you anything. I just want to take it all away,” Lucca says, slumped against the kitchen cupboard.

Sitting my plate down, I turn to look up to him. “I know you would. You’ve taught me to trust, to love, and to be loved. I’ve changed, Lucca, and I’m different. I have more confidence, and I’m not as paranoid. I’m stronger and better because of you.”

“Jesus, I love you more every fucking day.” He presses his nose on my shoulder, kissing my skin with his moist lips.

The party in the attic room is in full swing.

Cameron has his guitar, the kids are in bed, and Antonia is sleeping in the travel cot in our suite.

Lucca fixes drinks behind the bar as I slump on the sofa next to Anna and put my arms around her shoulders. I kiss her on the side of her head, then grasp her hand, and she grips my hand tightly before Cameron plays his next piece.

He’s sitting on the snug chair with his leg crossed over the other knee looking very much the rock star. He strums some chords playing “The Cave” by Mumford and Sons and sings along with lyrics. The tone of his raspy voice is spot on, and his tuning is impeccable.

Anna’s eyes become alive. She’s captivated with his talent. She sits upright, entranced watching him, and in this moment, I’m so proud of my brother. I’ve chosen to forgive his flaws over the last few weeks and accept that they are falling in love with each other.

His next song is John Legend’s “Ordinary People.” Then he wows everyone with his version of “Iris” by the Goo Goo Dolls. Anna looks fit to be undone. It’s the quietest I’ve ever seen her.

“You know, he is really talented. Plays great and has an amazing voice,” Lucca says. Then he turns to me with his “light bulb moment” look.

“No way! Not a bloody chance. Forget it,” I protest.

“Baby, you have an amazing voice. I have heard you sing. You and Cameron surely must sing together,” he says enthusiastically.

“We did, but in private.” Lowering my voice, I drop my gaze, shift with uneasiness, and set my drink down on the table.

“Lexi, this is your family now. I do not know why you would be bashful singing in front of us because you sing like an angel.”

“No, Lucca, drop it.”

I excuse myself to use the bathroom. On return, Cameron has the glint in his eye, the mischievous one, which means this has all been discussed while I was making myself scarce. Lucca walks over and takes my hand leading me to the sofa.

“Come on, Lexi, just one song. We will all take a turn if it makes you feel better,” Anna suggests.

Cameron shifts in the snug chair. “What do you say, baby girl?”

“No.” I scowl.

“Well, if you are not singing, then I am going to,” Lucca says.

Oh shit.

Not that Lucca has a bad voice, but it’s not brilliant either, and I would rather he kept it only for me in private. I have memories of him singing romantically into my ear after we danced with the baby, and when he proposed to me in Firenze, dancing around the private garden of our hotel suite, and it was lovely. I’d like the memory to stay lovely.

Hazel chirps, “She’s not that good anyway, Kate. You’d need to cover your ears because she can’t hold a tune and she’ll crack that glass table.” Hazel knows exactly what she’s doing.

Fuel to my fire.

Heating up, I let go of Lucca’s hand and stride towards Cameron, whispering in his ear. Then I sit next to him and singe Hazel with my eyes. I don’t care for her mind games. Damn, she gets me every time with that reverse shit.

I’m so goddamn weak.

Cameron starts strumming, finding his chords, and once he has the rhythm, my nerves truly kick in. I rub my sweaty palms together, swallow, then close my eyes and begin to sing Kristina Train’s “Dark Black” quietly until I reach my upper register in the chorus. I keep my eyes closed. It’s a harrowing song with deep emotion, which is why I coast it effortlessly.

I’m pouring my heart into the dusky, moody melody, subtly staying true to the melancholy, pain, and anguish behind the lyrics. When I finally lift my head, opening my eyes, everyone is still, poised, entranced, and completely silent. It’s like watching a silent movie and only I can hear my voice, but it’s a distant echo and someone else is singing it to me. Like an out of body experience.

Humming at the end of the song, I shake with nerves, wondering how it's received and if I made a complete fool of myself.

Most likely.

I’ve never really sung in front of a group apart from when I was drunk, and I slurred some songs to the girls hugging an empty bottle of wine right before they hauled me into a taxi, but everyone jumps up off their seats to applaud me. I smile and blush. Lucca is captivated. His eyes thank me, and he blows me a kiss and winks.

“Wow, that was incredible,” Sarah says.

Kate hugs and praises me. Armando, Dominic, and Savio are still applauding. I’m trembling. I can’t believe I did that!

“My work here is done,” Hazel chuckles. “Turns out you’re not so bad after all,” she adds then gives me a knowing nod of her head, as if to say well done.

“You have a beautiful voice, Lexi. You do not know how talented you are. A model and a singer!” Anna praises. “Oh my gawd, you need to duet together. Do something else,” she demands.

Cameron smiles roguishly then whispers in my ear, but I’m not sure. I’ve heard him singing in the house, and I’ve sang it in the car and out walking Doris in the woods with my earphone’s in, but we’ve never sang it together.

“We can do this. I’ll come in and follow your lead. Just pretend no one else is here,” Cameron suggests. He nudges his knuckles lightly across my chin.

“Okay, let’s do it.” I don’t know where all this confidence is coming from, but it’s impressing Lucca. I can feel his enthusiasm.

“A Martian invader from outer space has landed and switched bodies with my good friend here.” Hazel smirks at Dominic. He pushes her shoulder, shooing her sarcastic comment.

“Ready?” Cameron asks me.

I nod, although my legs are quaking and I’m fighting hard to keep my head above the water before I drown.

After his intro, I compose myself and prepare to sing Pink’s “Just Give Me A Reason.” I keep my eyes open this time, staring into the azure blue pool of Lucca’s eyes and swimming towards him with my words.

Floating.

Adrift.

Cruising.

I imagine his eyes as a white-washed illusion of an ebbing crystal tide softly rushing over my body. He leans back on the sofa, placing his arms behind his head, not taking his eyes off me. I’m not singing this for him. I’m singing this to him.

Finding my vocal strength, I lift higher in the chorus with more confidence. Cameron joins in with Nate Ruess’s lyrics, but in his own alternate rock husky tone. I soar, and when we sing together in harmony, everyone gasps as we complement each other’s registers. I lose myself, tapping my feet on the floor.

I hear myself. For the first time, I actually hear myself. I come alive, my wings take flight, and not in my core. I’ve literally lost all gravity, and then I escalate upward on the bridge of the song. On our last note, I smile, biting the bottom of my lip demurely and pleased with our first effort.

Lucca approaches and kneels in front of me, breathing heavily. Taking my face in his hands in front of everyone, he kisses my lips, pressing hard and long. I’m breathless when he pulls away. Cameron smirks at Lucca’s appreciation of my singing and begins to play Lady Antebellum’s “Singing Me Home.” It’s light and uplifting, so we have everyone join in.