“She’s just kind of going with it right now. He said she’s real busy at work and was hoping to set a date this fall for next spring the earliest. Not have it, well, sprung on her.” Mom purses her lips. “Even your father couldn’t talk your grandmother down. She’s itching to get to you.”

“Yeah, well, if she wants to try it, I dare her. I double-dare her.” I stand up straight and pull a water bottle from my fridge. I slam the door shut and perch on the edge of the table, unscrewing the cap. “She may have dipped her fingers into Trent’s wedding pie and be baking Devin’s, but I’m throwing my wedding pie in her face if she tries it. If I ever get engaged, it won’t be for a very long time. In fact, I’m going to wait until I’m thirty just to screw with her.”

Mom’s lips curve into a half smile with a hint of evil amusement. “I fully support your decision to have a long-term, stable relationship before you get married.”

“Only because you know it’ll piss Nonna off.” I swallow a mouthful of water and set the bottle on the table when my phone rings.

“That’s an influencing factor in my decision, yes, but I do want you to be happy. If it happens to annoy her, then that’s a bonus.”

I shake my head but shoot her a fond smile before glancing at my screen. My assistant’s name is written in big, white letters.

“Hey, Grecia. What’s up?”

“Sorry to bother you on your day off,” she says, actually sounding apologetic. “But your brother’s girlfriend is here, and so is Drake.”

Oh, God. That can’t be good.

“Okay. I’ll be there in ten minutes. Tell Drake to go and make coffee or something.”

“He already did it. I think he was in the kitchen before he even said hello to me.”

“Of course he was. See you soon.” I hang up and grab my purse from the counter, where I dumped it an hour ago. “I have to go to work.”

“Client?” Mom questions.

“No. Drake… And Amelia.”

Mom pulls up right behind me, her silver Ford truck outsizing my Audi TT and making it look like a toy car. I should have gone with the client thing. Shouldn’t have told her that Amelia’s here. I should have just said, “Drake,” and been done with it, because obviously, she insisted on coming along.

Amateur move, Noelle.

I grab my purse from the passenger’s seat and slip out of my car. Mom’s already halfway across the parking lot, and damn, I regret slipping heels on now. Yet another amateur move.

This is why I shouldn’t ever take time off, even just mornings. I do silly things. Like bring my mother to work. Technically, though, I didn’t bring her. She followed me and is now…walking through the door. Awesome.

This Sunday sucks ass.

“Mom!” I groan, jogging the last few steps and catching the door before it swings shut in my face. “Mom!”

Grecia points toward the stairs, and I drop my head back. Damn her. To think—she says that Nonna’s impossible.

Dear Mom, your ability to listen is just as nonexistent as hers.

“Mother!” I snap, storming up the stairs after her to, presumably, where Amelia is waiting in my office.

Judging by the question of, “Where’s Noelle?” I guessed right.

“I’m here, I’m here,” I say, stepping through the door.

Amelia is on me quicker than a lioness on a wildebeest. “Noelle!” she cries and grabs my arms, her eyes wide and frantic. “You have to stop her! I’m too young to go down for murder!”

Oh, freakin’ hell. I knew she was too quiet not to have a little freak-out inside her.

“Okay,” I reply softly, “Let’s sit you down. Mom, can you go down and make Amelia a cup of tea?”

Isn’t that what people do when they’re frustrated? I have no idea. My bloodstream is fifty percent caffeine.

“Of course, of course.” Mom bustles off into the hallway.

I take Amelia’s arms and guide her toward the chair.

The first thing everyone should know about Amelia Finlay is that she is the sweetest, quietest, most soft-spoken person in the state of Texas. She’s one of those rare people who struggle to find a bad word about anyone no matter how angry they are, and I think I’ve only ever heard her shout at Devin three times in the five years they’ve been together. She balances him perfectly.

So to see her this rattled? Yeah. I’m afraid to hear what Nonna’s done, because it’s going to be Nonna. Of course it will be. It is always Nonna.

“Right.” I dump my purse on my desk and sit in the tub chair next to her. “What’s up?”

Amelia pushes her honey-blond hair from her face and focuses her large, indigo-blue eyes on me. “God, Noelle. Please tell me there’s a magic spell to call Nonna off. I can’t take much more. She came into work yesterday evening with napkin samples. Into work! I was in the middle of caring for Mr. Hernandez!” She rubs her hand down her face, referring to one of the elderly gentlemen at the care home she works at. “Then, this morning, she showed up at our apartment with photos of wedding dresses she found. I thought she was going to burst a vein when I told her I’d already picked my dress and didn’t have any pictures to show her.”

I raise an eyebrow. Hot damn. “How did you get rid of her?”

“Well, last night, my boss stepped in and said she was stressing out the residents, and today, I, um, called Devin, but he was busy and had to send Drake.”

I bet that went down well. “Sure, he was busy,” I snort. “You didn’t believe that, did you?”

Amelia’s lips tug to one side, and she tucks some hair behind her ear. “Like I believe Silvio when he tells me he didn’t take the warm cookie straight off the tray, despite the chocolate around his mouth.”

“Ah, yeah. He gets that from Dad. And Trent, actually,” I muse, thinking of my adorable four-year-old nephew. “How did Drake get rid of Nonna?”

“He threatened to arrest her for harassment, and I think she told him to stick his handcuffs up his ass, but she said it in Italian, so I’m not sure.”

I grimace. Yep. That’s probably accurate. I bet Drake just laughed, too.

“She did what?” Mom shrieks, knocking the door open farther with her hip, two mugs in her hands. She gives one to Amelia and sips on another. She glances at me. “You’re out of tea, darlin’.”

Whatever. “Um, hello? I like coffee too!” I protest, glancing at her mug then back up at her.

Slowly, a mug is lowered in front of my face from behind, a decidedly male hand wrapped around the handle. I take it and look back with a smile.

“Thank you,” I say happily, my eyes colliding with the icy, blue ones that are rapidly becoming my favorites.

Drake’s lips quirk to one side, and he steps back without a word.

“What do I do, Noelle?” Amelia asks, drawing my attention back to her. “How do I tell her to…stop?”

“Believe me, darlin’. If there were a way to tell her and have her do it, I’d have done it,” Mom snorts. Then she sips her coffee.

Way to be supportive, Mom.

“Thanks for that,” I shoot back to her, glaring, then turn back to Amelia. “Just be honest with Nonna. Tell her it’s too much and that it’s your wedding.”

Amelia sucks her bottom lip into her mouth. “I don’t want to make her mad. She’s kinda…”

“Scary? Freaky? Inhuman?” I offer. What? They’re totally realistic. Anyone who’s seen Nonna angry—and I mean rip-your-hair-out angry—know she morphs into another species entirely. She’s worse than I am.

And that is saying something.

“Noelle,” Mom snaps.

I laugh in response. Her heart isn’t in that at all. It’s that shocked-yet-amused kind of snap you give a two-year-old when they say fuck for the first time—and come on, we’ve all done it.

“Mom,” I say—reasonably, in my opinion, “Nonna is batshit crazy. Don’t sugarcoat it. She’s all love and fuckin’ fairies until you mention the M-word. Well, Dev went and mentioned it—right in front of her, no less—and now, he’s not even growing balls big enough to deal with it.” I smack my lips together and turn to Amelia. “I’ll talk to Nonna.”