Read Online Miracle (The Pagano Family Book 6) by Susan Fanetti - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Susan Fanetti
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undone, and she could see just a hint, a suggestion, of hair. When he’d been younger, he’d waxed—she knew he had; even when she was a teenager, she’d known he’d waxed. She knew the shiny, almost plastic sheen of skin made unnaturally smooth. Angie and Matt waxed, then and now—they were massively hairy Sicilians, and they got chest, belly, back, ass, neck, and upper arms done regularly.
They used the same salon she did. Left to nature, she, too, was a hairy Sicilian. Their father, who thought men belonged in barbershops and women in beauty parlors, had an impressive pelt of hair all over his body.
But Joey seemed to be natural these days. If that little triangular hint was any indication.
Tina stopped thinking about what was under Joey Pagano’s clothes. She hadn’t even sat down yet. Getting a little bit ahead of herself.
His tank wasn’t on the back of his chair, as far as she could tell. Just his coat. She wondered about that—was his pulmonary function improving so much already?
When she got to the table and said hi, he smiled and reached out as if he meant to help her with her coat, but then he dropped his hands, and she took her own coat off and hung it on the back of her chair.
She sat, and he sat. “Sorry I’m late. Did you order?”
He shook his head.
And then they just stared at each other.
~ 5 ~
Fuck, she was beautiful. Beautiful and sweet and smart. Way out of his league. Who was he kidding? He didn’t have a league. She was starting in the majors, and he was sitting in the cheap seats with a stale hot dog and a warm beer.
The jeans she wore—dark red, like blood—hugged the full length of her slender legs, into her boots, and he could see a strappy little t-shirt under the loose knitting of her black sweater. Her hair was loose, but she tucked it behind her ears, showing those pretty, perfect shells, with a single, sparkling diamond dot in each lobe.
Fuck. He couldn’t be friends with her. He was hard before they’d even ordered a fucking pizza.
Joey sat and stared at her, afraid to make any attempt to speak and end up sounding like the loser that he was.
She stared back for a second or two, then gave her head a brisk shake, like she was waking up from a nap, or hypnosis, and said, “You want me to order?”
No, he didn’t. He wanted to do things the way things were supposed to be done. He shook his head. “Got it. What d’you…like?”
“Pretty much anything. But no fruit and no eyes.”
Was she a vegetarian? He frowned and found that word. “Veggie?”
She laughed. “God, no. I meant literally eyes on the pizza. No anchovies.”
Relieved, he laughed. “M-meat…supreme?”
“Perfect. And breadsticks.” She nodded at his glass. “And whatever you’re drinking.”
He glanced down at his sweating glass. “Water.”
Tina tilted her head, and her hair on that side slipped loose from behind her ear and draped over her shoulder. A vivid image of reaching out and letting that dark satin slide over his hand assailed Joey, and he had to close his eyes for a second.
He opened them when she asked, “Are you on a diet?” She was blushing. “Sorry, that was rude. Just…you’ve lost weight, and if you’re working on it, I’m sorry I suggested pizza. I’m good with going someplace else, if that’s better. And I didn’t mean to suggest that you needed to lose weight or anything. I just noticed that you had. I mean…whatever you want.”
When she stopped talking, she clamped her mouth shut with an audible snap, and her blush had deepened. Joey didn’t exactly mind if she was feeling self-conscious, too.
“P-part of…th-th-th…” Fuck. The word ‘therapy’ never wanted to come out of his mouth. He closed his eyes and thought about what therapy meant for him. That was one of Gayle’s strategies: to find new words in the concepts behind the words that
They used the same salon she did. Left to nature, she, too, was a hairy Sicilian. Their father, who thought men belonged in barbershops and women in beauty parlors, had an impressive pelt of hair all over his body.
But Joey seemed to be natural these days. If that little triangular hint was any indication.
Tina stopped thinking about what was under Joey Pagano’s clothes. She hadn’t even sat down yet. Getting a little bit ahead of herself.
His tank wasn’t on the back of his chair, as far as she could tell. Just his coat. She wondered about that—was his pulmonary function improving so much already?
When she got to the table and said hi, he smiled and reached out as if he meant to help her with her coat, but then he dropped his hands, and she took her own coat off and hung it on the back of her chair.
She sat, and he sat. “Sorry I’m late. Did you order?”
He shook his head.
And then they just stared at each other.
~ 5 ~
Fuck, she was beautiful. Beautiful and sweet and smart. Way out of his league. Who was he kidding? He didn’t have a league. She was starting in the majors, and he was sitting in the cheap seats with a stale hot dog and a warm beer.
The jeans she wore—dark red, like blood—hugged the full length of her slender legs, into her boots, and he could see a strappy little t-shirt under the loose knitting of her black sweater. Her hair was loose, but she tucked it behind her ears, showing those pretty, perfect shells, with a single, sparkling diamond dot in each lobe.
Fuck. He couldn’t be friends with her. He was hard before they’d even ordered a fucking pizza.
Joey sat and stared at her, afraid to make any attempt to speak and end up sounding like the loser that he was.
She stared back for a second or two, then gave her head a brisk shake, like she was waking up from a nap, or hypnosis, and said, “You want me to order?”
No, he didn’t. He wanted to do things the way things were supposed to be done. He shook his head. “Got it. What d’you…like?”
“Pretty much anything. But no fruit and no eyes.”
Was she a vegetarian? He frowned and found that word. “Veggie?”
She laughed. “God, no. I meant literally eyes on the pizza. No anchovies.”
Relieved, he laughed. “M-meat…supreme?”
“Perfect. And breadsticks.” She nodded at his glass. “And whatever you’re drinking.”
He glanced down at his sweating glass. “Water.”
Tina tilted her head, and her hair on that side slipped loose from behind her ear and draped over her shoulder. A vivid image of reaching out and letting that dark satin slide over his hand assailed Joey, and he had to close his eyes for a second.
He opened them when she asked, “Are you on a diet?” She was blushing. “Sorry, that was rude. Just…you’ve lost weight, and if you’re working on it, I’m sorry I suggested pizza. I’m good with going someplace else, if that’s better. And I didn’t mean to suggest that you needed to lose weight or anything. I just noticed that you had. I mean…whatever you want.”
When she stopped talking, she clamped her mouth shut with an audible snap, and her blush had deepened. Joey didn’t exactly mind if she was feeling self-conscious, too.
“P-part of…th-th-th…” Fuck. The word ‘therapy’ never wanted to come out of his mouth. He closed his eyes and thought about what therapy meant for him. That was one of Gayle’s strategies: to find new words in the concepts behind the words that
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