Moments of Truce

Chapter 56

Blaine De Lombardi's POV

"Blaine! Go and assist Johnson in setting the tables. I hear Lucia yell at me. Johnson gave me a look that told me my mate had gone insane as she stomped off to yell at someone else for whatever they must be doing wrong.

"Hey, Cyril! Have you been a moron all your life?" Hang the lights on the gazebo, not the tree, as I instructed."

Who are you calling a moron? I'm still your older brother, even though you might be Luna," Cyril said.

You said the wrong thing, my man.

I've never seen Lucia's face become a shade of crimson so angry before.

"Anyways, let's go inside and look at what your mom is cooking up."

"You're right, I need to make sure she's following the right recipes," she remarked, then quickly turned around and headed for our house.

"How about we just taste the food?" I walk up to her in the kitchen and ask.

"Fine."

She takes a wooden spoon in her hand and uses it to pick up a tiny dab of marinara sauce. She gives it a quick puff of air and then brings it to her lips. It takes her all of a second to taste it before a grossed-out frown takes over her face.

"Hey! This is bad! How did you fill this up, ma?"

I hold back from hitting my forehead with my palm. Many things are off-limits when speaking with an Italian woman. Of course, insulting her cuisine comes first on the list.

"Pardon me? My sauce is flawless. Claire yells. She challenges her daughter to say anything bad about her cuisine, raising an eyebrow and putting her hands on her hips in the process.

It's difficult enough to deal with one irate Lorenzo woman, but two? That isn't feasible.

"Are you serious? I think it tastes like dirt," says Lucia.

I told her, "Lucia, come on, that's not nice."

Her brows knit together.

Just get me through the day, goddess.

She said, "Try it, then," and put the spoon on my lips. No matter what I say, this will not end well for me, which is why I want to dispute it.

Gingerly, I sampled the sauce, and I promise you it tastes amazing. I start to say something, but Lucia's eyes cut me off. They always give me the "I dare you to argue with me" vibe, but Claire Lorenzo also gives me the creeps.

"It's good," I mumble. That appears to be the response that will cause me the least amount of friction with Lucia.

Lucia sneered, "Of course you would say that; you're never on my side," and walked out.

I lean back on my head and hope that the remainder of the day passes by at breakneck speed.

Even though she's upset with her daughter, Claire instantly jumps to her defense and says, "She does this when she's stressed; don't worry, she's not mad at you."

"I know, but it seems like nothing I've done today has been right in her eyes."

"It's okay, Blaine. She pats my cheek and walks away, saying, "I'm sure you can ask my husband for some pointers on how to deal with it. It's a Lorenzo trait."

I turn to go, and right then Cyril waltzes into the kitchen. His eyes gleam at the counter, laden with food servings of Mexican, Chinese, Italian, Afghan, and Indian cuisine. I decided to halt him as he walked to get some naan.

"You can't have any food until the rest of the pack arrives," I informed him.

"Really? All of the nepotism is gone. I am the Alpha-Female's brother, yet I am not even allowed to eat."

It was she who made the demand. All I am is the message.

"Are you going to get her name tattooed on your balls next?"

He chuckles as though this is the greatest joke he has ever heard.

"At least she sees my balls on the rig; when was the last time a girl looked at yours?"

His eyes quickly became enraged.

I occasionally forget that my best friend is not interested in hearing about that garbage because he is also related to my mate.

He snatches a piece of naan and rips off a section with his teeth like an animal. "Talk about my sister and balls in the same sentence, and I will cut your throat, De Lombardi," he threatened.

I hope he gives it a shot.

In the same manner as his sister, he stomps off. It's all out for me with that family.

I mentally count to ten before moving in Lucia's direction. Her aroma becomes increasingly difficult to find as the days go by. I follow the lovely scent of vanilla to the pavilion situated at the edge of our land. Even though it's old, it looks brand new when there are lights and flowers around.

Regretfully, the lovely scent of Lucia is combined with the repulsive scent of eucalyptus. Alright, the scent of eucalyptus is pleasant, but Anthony, I forget his last name.

I watch as he laughs until his stomach hurts and his neck snaps back. Lucia laughed, and I wanted to walk over there and break his neck so that he would never be able to make her laugh ever again.

It is forbidden to kill a pack member.

The fact that he has known her for a longer time than I have will always make me despise him. That they would always be friends and that, at some point in their lives, they had romantic love for one another. I wanted her and myself alone, even though it was selfish. But it wouldn't be fair to her, so I put on a tight-lipped smile and approached them.

"Is everything alright?"

Lucia gives me a quick look while displaying a variety of facial emotions.

She told Anthony, "One second."

She grabs my wrist and leads me to the brook that is beyond the hill where our house sits.

"What are you doing?"

I said, a little perplexed, "I was checking up on you."

"Why does your face look like that?"

I flinch.

"I've got to say, I've never had a woman say that to me before, and it's killing my ego," I responded.

Her eyes rolled.

"I don't mean to say that! She whispers, "You had a creepy smile on your face," even though Anthony should be able to hear us over the stream.

I smirked and said to her, "That's my… I'm trying not to rip off your head smile."

"You're too much."

"Well, you're stuck with me for the rest of our lives," I said with a grin.

Her face breaks into a genuine smile, unlike the one she shared with Anthony, and I can't help but smile back.

How has she gradually brought laughter, smiles, and family into my once miserable life? She has given me all of the things in a matter of months that I have hardly encountered in my twenty-three years of life.

I couldn't help but stare down at her tummy as I read the term, imagining what it would look like if her belly expanded to hold my kid inside her womb.

"How many kids should we have?"

She is taken aback by my query.

"Where did that come from?"

I shrug.

"Well, four or five children would be nice. They can all play together and never have to worry about being alone that way. But there are no children as of yet! We're not old enough."

I drew her close to me.

"We are too young; I'm not sure I want to share you with a bunch of little brats yet," I responded.

"Did you just call our future kids brats?"

"If they inherit your attitude, I'm not sure there's a better word to describe them."

She slaps at my chest with a joyful giggle.

"My disposition? I do not doubt that you will cause our children to have a lifelong frown."

"You're going to regret that little wolf," I warn you. I stretch my arms out and throw her to the ground, being careful not to crush her with my whole weight.

"Blaine! It's muddy, oh my gosh, Lucia exclaimed.

"Aw shit, my bad. I didn't mean to get you dirty," I informed her.

"It's okay"

I smear muck all over her face, cutting off her speech. Her face assumes an expression of amazement as the dirt sticks to her cheek and neck.

"You asshole!"

The only spot Lucia can reach while pinned beneath me is the top of my head, so she scoops up a handful of mud and dumps it there.

I tilt my head down so my now mud-caked hair is squarely in front of her face, grinning.

"No!"

She screams and then giggles as I rub my hair against her face and down her neck.

She exhales and whispers, "You are terrible."

I smiled at her and then turned to lie down next to her. We started spooning as my arm stretched out to pull her toward me.

"Lay with me for a bit."