Page 35 of The Roman Holiday Rule

Luca smashes the garlic with the side of a massive knife. I’m staying over here by the fridge until he’s done. “You think I care about her height? What does shelooklike?”

Gray eyes that turn blue when she’s emotional and passionate. A smile that makes the air itself lose its breath. I clear my throat. The less I think about her looks, the better. “I already told you.”

Luca stabs the knife straight into the wooden cutting board and it wobbles upright. I understand how the cutting board feels as he pins me with his sharp stare. “You know what I mean.”

Mr. Laid-Back Luca is getting pushy today. I have to give him something. “Nice smile. Straight teeth.”

Great. Now it sounds like I’ve been staring at her mouth, andnotwith a dentist’s professional interest.

The waiter pops his head into the kitchen, his massive frame eclipsing the sight of the restaurant behind him. “Your sister’s here, Luca. If you want to eat with them, we can cover for you in here.” He runs a hand over his shaved head. “She brought a friend.”

I grimace at Luca. “Is she trying to set one of us up with someone again?”

Luca rolls his eyes, brushes the onion and garlic into the hot oil, and hands his olive-wood spoon over to one of the other guys. Over the loud sizzle from his pan, he says, “Don’t try to wiggle out of this. For the third time,what does she look like?”

He pushes through the doors into the cramped dining area, headed for Mariella at the corner table in the back with two empty seats saved for us. I follow, then stop in my tracks.Lexington.

What?Did she meet Mariella at the reception, is this a coincidence ... or is Lexington popping up on purpose to haunt me?

I’m processing way too slowly. I yank Luca’s arm and drag him back into the kitchen.That, I want to say to Luca.That is exactly what she looks like.

But I can’t risk my cousin knowing this bet is with her. Everyone in my family is a sieve. Like those homemade volcano science experiments with the baking soda and vinegar, one drop and we’ll have a full-blown, exploding mess everyone thinks is fun except the person in charge of cleaning it up.

“Dude, what are you doing?” Luca pulls toward the door but I keep a firm grip on his arm.

“Wait.” I have no explanation for my behavior, since all my brain seems capable of right now is repeatingLexingtonover and over. “Bathroom” is all that comes out. Nailed it.

Luca blinks at me like I landed my alien spaceship on his roof.

I release his arm. “I’ll meet you at the table, you go on ahead.”

I duck over to the WC on the other side of the dining area and stand in front of the mirror, gripping the edge of the sink. I suck in a deep breath. We’re in my territory, with my family, at my cousin’s restaurant. I have the advantage here, despite a few pesky questions I need answered. This is my city, my life. She’s passing through. I can handle this.

I stand straighter, practice a polite, unaffected welcoming expression, and walk out of the bathroom headed for the table.

The moment Lexington and I lock gazes, she draws back in her seat, gray eyes wide. So this isn’t her next prank. But her surprise morphs, and soon she’s looking at me like a victor ready to enter round two of the tournament.

She’s waiting for me to make the next move in our little game, and I like that she expects payback for her actions from last night. I shake my head with a small smirk that saysyou have no idea what you’ve started.

She grins and raises an eyebrow. All her hesitation is gone and that challenging spunk takes over.

“Mark.” Mariella’s voice sounds exasperated, as if she’d called my name several times.

I drop into the last empty chair, on Lexington’s left, and turn to Mariella. “What?”

She’s giving me an impatient, searching look. In English, she says, “This is my new friend, Lexi Walker. Lexi, this is my cousin, Mark, and my twin brother, Luca. And guess what, Mark, Lexi is the daughter—”

Lexington shoots her a sharp look, a quick shake of her head, and holds out her hand to Luca. “Nice to meet you.”

What was that about?

When she shakes my hand, I feign confusion. “You look familiar.”

Mariella flaps open her napkin and lays it on her lap. “Lexi gave a speech at the reception. She’s helping with the festival.”

Lexington squeezes my hand in warning, and we both release. Not sure who had the upper hand there, pun intended. “That must be it.”

So we’ll pretend we haven’t run into each other six times over the last three days and spent a night next to each other on the plane. I just wish I wasn’t quite so conscious of our knees brushing under the white cotton tablecloth.