“Should’ve put a sign on his crotch,” Carly advises, shaking her head in mock disappointment. “Common mistake.”
“I’m gonna go over there.”
“No.” Carly puts a hand on Laurel’s arm to stop her, then reconsiders and drops her hand. “Never mind, go ahead.”
Laurel grabs her egg full of jelly beans and heads toward Rafe.
Carly grins and practically rubs her hands together in glee.
“What?” I ask, suspiciously.
“He’s gonna hate this. He’s a confirmed bachelor and she sees him talking to another girl and gets clingy? He’s gonna run.”
“You’re mean.”
Carly’s blue eyes go wide. “I am not mean! I’m protecting her. Would you hook my sister up with a Morelli? I would legitimately hook her up with a wood chipper first.”
Since I am a Morelli, I have to frown at that. “So mean. I’m a Morelli.”
Looping her arm through mine and hugging me, she butters me up. “Well, obviously you’re the good one. But you’re the only good one. The rest are toxic.”
I raise my eyebrows as I watch for the train wreck Carly predicted, but it doesn’t happen. Rafe appears mildly amused at the way Laurel transparently vies for his attention in the face of perceived competition, but instead of losing interest and shooing her away, he plants his hands on her hips and yanks her into his lap. Once she’s straddling him, Laurel feeds him a jelly bean.
“I hate to disappoint you, but I don’t think it worked.”
“What? Impossible.”
“Nope. They’re kissing now. You fucked that all up.”
Carly is dismayed. “What?”
I nod, unable to fight back a mild smirk—and I don’t support this any more than she does. It’s fucking funny, though. My little badass and her plans. She keeps getting everything wrong. “She’s definitely getting that third night now. Good job, big sis.”
“Dammit! I’m losing my edge.”
“I should’ve warned you. He is a bachelor, but he likes his girls warm over cold any day of the week. If Laurel sat here and pretended not to care, he probably would’ve been less interested. She did the clingier thing and risked rejection, which probably seems more vulnerable to him… He’s weird. We’re all weird.”
Carly sighs, watching them. “I’m afraid she’s going to get attached. Laurel has never had a one night stand before and she fucked this one all up. The whole point of a one night stand is to hit it and quit it. Does that look like quitting it to you?”
“She only has one more night,” I assure her. “Rafe’s in town for my dad’s funeral. He’s heading back to Vegas tomorrow. Hell, we’ll probably be on the same flight.”
Carly shakes her head, bending down and retrieving an egg full of jelly beans from the basket on the ground. She pops it open and grabs a jelly bean. “Your family stresses me out.”
“One more day,” I tell her. “Just one more day.”
—
Dinner is a fucking fiasco.
Francesca and Salvatore had to visit Sal’s family before they could come to our dinner, so they don’t get there until dinner time, and they come with arms full of baskets, overflowing with candy and presents for the kids. I introduce them both to Carly, but if Sal recognizes her, you can’t tell.
The kids are actually present at dinner since it’s a holiday. It’s always so weird when kids are around for the formal dinner, and since there are six kids to accommodate, the place is cramped. Mateo and Mia sit at their usual place, but Meg sits up by them today so Roman’s high chair can sit on the other open end of the table. Mateo is flanked by both boys today, and both of their mothers. Adrian and Elise have their baby boy with them, but the newborn is sleeping. Lily and Isabella are by Meg and Mia respectively. Dante and Colette are here with their two kids. Laurel and Rafe sit together. Carly and I end up on their other side, right across from Sal and Francesca. Cherie sits across from Alec, so at least I get to sit by the family members I actually like tonight.
“Jesus Christ, Mateo needs to stop procreating,” Cherie states.
“Mia’s already pregnant,” Carly informs her. “Should’ve doled out that advice a little sooner, future sister-in-law.”
I crack a smile and reach for the bread basket, grabbing one of the rolls and passing it to Carly. “Next year we’ll have to have Easter at our house. It’ll be a much smaller gathering. Feel free to come,” I tell Cherie and Francesca, glancing between them.
“And miss the Morelli family antics?” Sal asks, shaking his head. “No way. It’s part of my holiday traditions at this point.”
“Plus, once we have a baby, it won’t be so easy to travel. We have to go to church with his mom in the morning,” Francesca says, rolling her eyes. “According to her, she will actually perish if we don’t.”