The Woman in Harm’s Way (Grassi Family #5) Read Online Jessica Gadziala

Categories Genre: Action, Contemporary, Mafia, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: Grassi Family Series by Jessica Gadziala
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Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 75683 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
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“What?”

“I want to know if I’m ordering wine or not,” he clarified.

“Oh, ah, before work,” I told him. “I was planning on taking one more before bed. But I would definitely prefer wine right now,” I told him.

“Wine it is,” he said, and I damn near felt myself sway into him before the server saved me. Or ruined the moment. Really, I couldn’t tell you which.

We were led to our table, then Nino ordered the wine, and smiled at my impressed look.

“My cousin Massimo owns a winery. I’ve learned a bit about it. Whether I wanted to or not,” he admitted with a smirk.

“Whether you learned it by interest or force, I am duly impressed,” I told him. “The only thing I know about wine is the cheap stuff that tastes more like rubbing alcohol than grapes gives me a headache. Oh, my God. This menu,” I said as I started to look over it. “I don’t know what I want. It all sounds amazing.”

“We can visit anytime,” he told me. “Pick what’s calling to you the most with the knowledge that everything else can be tried in time.”

“Ravioli it is then,” I declared. “It’s one of my favorites,” I added.

“I will be sure to tell the aunts that,” he said with a warm smile.

“Yes, about that…” I started.

“Don’t waste your breath telling me that they don’t have to do it,” he cut me off. “Even if I did tell them that, they wouldn’t listen. You don’t fuck with the Grassi women and their food offerings.”

“I mean, they don’t have to do it. But I am so grateful. And I feel like an ungrateful idiot for not realizing that it was your family dropping them off.”

“They’re big on their meal trains,” he told me as the server came back with the wine. “Anytime someone is sick or had a baby or is just going through a bad time, meals just show up. My ma says it helps people to function through hard times when you take the mental burden of planning a menu and the physical burden of shopping and prepping food off their hands.”

“That is incredibly sweet. And it’s true. There’s no way I would feel like cooking for myself right now,” I told him. “My mom feeds me at work, but if it wasn’t for the kindness of your family, I would be surviving off of whatever is in my cupboards and freezer right now. Are they all good cooks? Your aunts?”

“Every one of them. And most of my cousins too. And siblings. Our ma is a firm believer in cooking being a life skill, so she forced us to learn it from her side, though she prefers to be the one doing the cooking. Do you ever cook? Or is that just more your mother’s thing?”

“I can feed myself,” I said. “But I’m not the cook my mom is. I’m better as a kitchen assistant. I am an excellent stirrer.”

That got another smile out of him. And I’m not ashamed to admit that I got lost once again in those eye crinkles. Who would have thought that eye crinkles would be so hot?

From there, we fell into a conversation about his family. Me, curious, full of questions, and him, amused, and full of answers.

I learned that his sister Valley—short for Valentina—was a teacher at a prestigious prep school and was hardly ever seen without heels on. And he had a cousin, Lucky, who ran a bunch of pizza places in town. I made a mental note to try that pizza once the meal train headed in someone else’s direction. There was also a cousin who ran an event venue business. And so on and so forth.

It seemed fair to say that everyone in Nino’s family was some sort of successful businessman. The women did mostly step away from careers once they married, once they took the role of mother, wife, aunt, sister, and cousin of a big family very seriously.

“Do you want one?” I asked as our main course plates were taken away. “A big family,” I clarified.

“Yes,” he said. No hesitation. I’d been so accustomed to men who said no or that they weren’t sure that I found his certainty about the matter really refreshing. “You?”

“I… I think, if I stay put, that I would like several kids, yeah. I love kids. And I would like for my kids to have a bunch of siblings.”

“Did you miss not having them growing up?”

“I mean… yes and no. On the one hand, I had my mother’s undivided attention. I got all of her love. She filled me up to overflowing. On the other, while I got to play with a ton of kids all the time, it would have been nice to have those connections. Sisters to share secrets with. Brothers to be annoying and overprotective. I don’t feel like I missed out, per se, but I just would want something different for a family I was making, I guess is what I’m saying.”


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