Love and Learn (Voretti Family Book 2) (16 page)

BOOK: Love and Learn (Voretti Family Book 2)
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He pulled her even closer. “It’s simple. I read you.”

“Like I’m a book?”

“Not exactly. It’s more like…when I touch you, I can tell what you’re feeling, because I’m feeling it too.” He huffed out a laugh. “That sounded crazy, didn’t it?”

“N-no. I know what you mean.” She knew, because she felt it too. And it scared the crap out of her, because the connection was even stronger than it had been in high school.

“Maybe now isn’t the best time to talk about it, but I’ve gotta know. I think tonight proved beyond a shadow of a doubt that you don’t need any more lessons. But I don’t want you disappearing from my life. We can take things as slow as you want, but at least tell me you’ll give us a chance.”

“You want to date?”

“I don’t care what we call it. As long as I get to be with you.”

The words should have terrified her, but with her head pillowed on Ty’s bare chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart, she was cocooned in warmth. She’d taken a major risk tonight, and it hadn’t ended in disaster. Far from it.

She took a deep breath. “Okay, then. Let’s give it a try.”

It was time to live her life. Despite the risks.

*

Annabelle came awake slowly, dragged from oblivion by an insistent hammering. Ty must’ve decided to finish putting together the bookcase. That was sweet of him, even if he had woken her from her deepest sleep in years.

Except the instructions had only called for a crescent wrench, not a hammer.

“Mmph,” grunted a masculine voice next to her.

Ty’s voice. Ty was in bed with her.

Which meant the hammering wasn’t hammering after all. It was…

She sat up, trying to coax her sleepy brain into finishing that thought.

The pounding ended abruptly. There was the unmistakable snick of a key turning in a lock.

Her blood ran cold, and she was suddenly, fully awake.

“Ty!” She jerked him up by one arm. “Get up! It’s my parents!”

CHAPTER 11

“W
HA
…?” T
Y
PRIED
his eyes open. He hadn’t been that deep under since he’d learned the art of the combat nap.
 

“Get dressed!”

He caught the boxers Annabelle hurled at him. The panic in her voice cleared the last of the sleep from his brain, and—
shit
—how had he missed those footsteps? They were thundering down the hall like an entire battalion charging forward.

He pulled on his jeans without wasting time on the boxers. His shirt was on the other side of the room, but before he could get it, Annabelle yanked it over her head.

“You’re not still in bed, are you?” called a voice that sounded almost like Annabelle’s. “We called five times.”

“Hang on, Mamma. I’m getting dressed.” Annabelle grabbed her panties, stuck one leg through the hole, and almost fell over trying to get the other one in.
 

“If you were sick, you should have called. I would have dropped off some stracciatella before—” The woman stopped half way through the doorway.
 

It had been seven years since Ty’s brief encounter with Annabelle’s parents before the prom, but Mrs. V looked exactly the same—like an older version of Annabelle—and Ty couldn’t help grinning. This wasn’t the way he’d planned on introducing himself to Annabelle’s family, but he had to work with what he was given.

He stepped forward, hand outstretched. “Hello, Mrs. Voretti. You probably don’t remember me, but—”

Annabelle elbowed him perilously close to the family jewels.

He hissed in a breath. But maybe it was a good thing Annabelle had shut him up, because Mrs. V was glaring at him like she’d have broken the hand he’d been about to offer her.

“Annabelle Francesca Voretti! What is the meaning of this?”

“Calm down, Mamma.” Annabelle tugged his shirt lower over her hips—like that was gonna help everybody forget she was only half dressed. “I can explain.”

“Then let’s hear it.” Annabelle’s father pushed into the room, his face I’m-about-to-kill-your-boyfriend red.

Three younger men piled in behind him. Annabelle’s brothers weren’t kids any longer, and they were ready to do some serious damage.
 

“What the
fuck
?”

“Who is this guy?”

“Damn it, Annabelle!”

They surrounded him like a fire team getting ready to take out a tango, the two twins on his left, and the other—no less dangerous despite the baby strapped into a front carrier—on his right.

Annabelle shrank back, and Ty fought the urge to strike first. As long as he and Annabelle presented a calm, united front, there was no reason this had to end badly.

He put his arm around her.
 

“Don’t touch me,” she hissed. “You’re making it worse.”

He dropped his arm but kept himself glued to her side. Hell if he’d let her face this alone. “Okay. I’ll be honest, guys. This wasn’t how I planned to meet the family, but—”

“Tyler MacKinnon.” Mr. V pronounced his name like it translated to
spoiled dog shit
in Italian. “I remember you. You took my daughter to that dance.”

“Yes, sir.”

“We did not have much chance to talk the last time we met.”

Ty was hyper-aware of Annabelle standing stiffly at his side, mad as hell that he hadn’t made himself disappear. “No, sir.”
 

Annabelle had pulled him out of the house like it was on fire, but now the entire Voretti clan was glaring at Ty like he’d kidnapped their precious baby at gunpoint instead of driving her to the prom.

Annabelle muttered a word he was pretty sure had never come out of her mouth before, and he got this strange, hollow feeling in his stomach. Worry.

He didn’t fucking like it. He needed to get the conversation back on track. “I joined the military after high school, and I’ve spent most of the last seven years overseas. Now that I’m back, I hope we can get to know each other.”

“Yes.” Mr. V glared some more. “You will come for dinner, and I will show you my home.”
 

“I’d love to.” Ty would just be sure not to leave Annabelle’s side, in case Mr. V got any crazy ideas about showing him how sharp the kitchen knives were or the sound his baseball bat made when it connected with Ty’s skull.
 

“A military man like yourself will appreciate my collection.”
 

“What kind of a collection are we talking about?”
 

“I think of it as a piece of history.”

“Papa, please.” Annabelle’s voice had a panicked note, and the hollow in Ty’s stomach grew.

“Did you know that Sig Sauer began as a wagon factory? A few years later, they won a competition to design a rifle for the Swiss army. I have one of the original Prelaz-Burnand rifles—a beautiful piece of craftsmanship. And, of course, their more modern offerings. What do you think about the P226, Tyler?”

“A very nice weapon.” He tried to give Annabelle a reassuring smile, but she was looking at everything but him.

“Papa,” she tried again.

Mr. V was too busy incinerating Ty with his glare to listen. “Maybe for a little boy shooting targets at a Sunday picnic. The P226 is shit compared to my SIGM400 Predator. Of course, we all have our favorites. Rafe prefers the M24. And Alessandro and Matteo have been known to use an SR-25.”

The Voretti brothers flashed him identical, narrow-eyed grins, like they were sighting him through the scopes of their favorite sniper rifles, counting down the seconds until they got permission to engage. Even Mrs. V had taken a shooting stance.
 

And didn’t it figure that Annabelle’s family collected assault rifles. Nothing about this woman was easy. Nothing except the way she made him feel when they were together. “Well. You’ve certainly got some stopping power.”

“I don’t allow anyone to come into my house and cause trouble,” Mr. V said. “No one disrespects me or my family.”

“I understand, sir.”

“One should always be prepared for any eventuality. Are you prepared, Tyler?”

The question echoed through Ty’s head. He hadn’t been prepared when he’d strolled back into Annabelle’s life, expecting to pick up right where they’d left off. But after last night? He was all in. “I’m prepared.”

“Prepared for a Predator?”

He held Mr. V’s gaze. “My M-4 was my best friend on a mission, but I don’t find much need for weapons as a civilian. I do fine with my own two hands.”

Was that approval he saw on Mr. V’s face? The expression disappeared too fast for Ty to be sure.

“Very well. Enough of these pleasantries. Are you going to do right by my daughter or do I need to give you a personal introduction to my collection?”
 

Annabelle jumped in front of Ty like a secret service agent taking a bullet to save the president. “Papa, please. Let Ty leave and then I promise I’ll explain—”
 

“I’m not going anywhere,” Ty said, at the same time that Annabelle’s father roared, “Absolutely not!”
 

“Well, well.” Mr. V gave Ty that look again. It wasn’t exactly approval, but at least it was an improvement on I’m-gonna-put-a-bullet-in-your-kidney-and-watch-you-bleed-out. “It seems there is one thing we agree on.”
 

“Papa,” Annabelle broke in. “I know you’re upset, but I’m a grown woman. What I choose to do in the privacy of my own home is none of your business.”

“You are my daughter. You will always be my business. And if this
cafone
does not do the right thing and make you his wife in the eyes of the church, I will cut off his
coglioni
and feed them to the sewer rats.”

Ty barely registered Mr. V’s threat—he was too preoccupied with Annabelle’s panicked expression. He needed to let her know Daddy Dearest wasn’t gonna scare him off. Not when he’d already made up his mind to marry her. Of course, he hadn’t meant to propose this soon, but if it would keep the peace…

“Give me a minute to discuss this with Annabelle,” Ty said.

All three Voretti brothers started yelling at once.


Fuck
, no.”

“Anything you want to say, you’ll say to me.”

“You’re not getting another second alone with my sister.”

“Holy shit!” Liv shoved her way through the crowd of Voretti boys. “You guys really
are
crazy.”


Language
, Olivia,” Mrs. V admonished, but Liv was too busy ogling his bare chest to respond. Ty fought the urge to duck behind Annabelle.
 

“Are you seriously going to make them get married?” Liv asked Mr. V. “Like, an actual shotgun wedding?”

“Stay out of it,” growled one of the twins.

“No one is marrying anyone. And there will be no guns involved.” Annabelle glared at her brothers as she spoke, like she was warning them not to draw their weapons—and,
shit
—the older one had a bulge near the bottom of his jeans at exactly the right place for an ankle holster.

No, that was crazy. He wouldn’t carry with a month-old baby strapped to his chest. At least, Ty was pretty sure he wouldn’t.
 

The twins had no obvious bulges, but they were wearing jackets despite the mild summer weather. Even Mr. V was wearing a windbreaker.
 

“No wedding? Then go!” Mr. V raised one arm at a ninety degree angle, pointing out the door. “If I catch you near my daughter again, I will put a bullet through your heart.”

The Voretti boys closed around him. “Let’s go,” one of the twins bit out.

Ty couldn’t see Annabelle anymore. They were herding him away from her.

Adrenaline punched through his veins. He planted his feet. He’d take all of these fuckers down if they pushed him one more inch away from his woman.
 

“Hold on, now.” It was strange to hear his voice come out in that relaxed drawl, when he was half a second from punching somebody. “You haven’t heard me out.”

“There is nothing to hear!” Mr. V yelled. “Either you will marry my Annabelle, or—”

“Yes.”

The hand around his bicep loosened. His armed guard dispersed, leaving him in front of Annabelle and Mr. V.

Annabelle was pale. Too pale.
 

He took a step toward her, but Mr. V intercepted. “Yes what?”
 

“Yes, I’ll marry her. Assuming she’ll have me, of course.” He smiled reassuringly, but Annabelle still looked like she was about to pass out.
 

He pushed closer. If she fainted, he was damn well going to catch her, even if it did get him shot.

“This is not a joke,” Mr. V spluttered. “You do not get married on a whim and then divorced the next day. This is forever.”

“Forever is exactly what I want.”
 

He turned to Annabelle. “Sweetheart,” he whispered. “I know this isn’t the most romantic proposal, and I promise I’ll do it again, the right way, once I get the ring. But for now, let’s humor the crazy people.”

She stared at him, eyes wide.

He’d shocked the hell out of her. No surprise there. She’d probably made a detailed mental flowchart describing the way their relationship should progress, and he was slashing and burning the timeline.

He wanted to give her the romantic proposal she deserved, but that wasn’t gonna happen with her entire family glaring at him. Lucky for him, Annabelle was the logical, scientist type. She’d understand that the important thing was for the two of them to be together.

He got down on one knee. The entire Voretti clan had him in their sights, but he focused on Annabelle. The woman he loved. The woman he was going to spend the rest of his life with. “Will you marry me?”

Annabelle stared at him. She swallowed. And then she finally opened her mouth. “No.”

CHAPTER 12

“H
URRY
.” A
NNABELLE
PULLED
Ty down the hallway. She needed him out of her apartment before her family recovered from the shock of her refusal and came after them both. Before the tears pressing against the back of her eyes overflowed like storm water breaking through a dam, and he realized he’d broken her heart.

“Sorry, sweetheart. This is pretty much my top speed.”

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