Page 80 of The Roman Holiday Rule

I climb on behind him, setting the flower helmet back on andmuttering about his big head loud enough for him to hear. His shoulders shake with laughter as he turns the scooter onto the road.

I grab a fistful of his shirt in each hand, determined not to cling like a smitten high schooler. A block later, I realize my low-contact strategy isn’t going to work. He’s weaving in and out of traffic like a Grand Prix driver, and I’m sorry, but wrapping my arms around his waist is the only way to keep from falling off.

This close to him for an extended amount of time is the overseas flight situation to the nthdegree. I never thought exponentials were my thing, but it turns out a little well-placed math can be very pleasant.

About an hour later, Mark slows as we enter the sleepy, haphazard village. Hedges and six-foot walls give the homes privacy on this street, and at the dead end, we park in front of a large iron gate. He pushes a buzzer and the gate swings open, revealing a sprawling orange villa with flowers spilling out of the windows and hills behind it.

A choking gasp emits from my throat.

It’s the villa from Mom’s last envelope.

Forty-Three

Mark

We climb offthe Vespa and remove our helmets.

Lexington, her wind-blown hair the cutest thing ever, is staring at my aunt and uncle’s house, mouth open. I glance at the villa, trying to see it through her eyes. It’s a little on the squat side with patches of peeling plaster, but large and overflowing with flowers and laughter.

“You ready?”

She blinks, tearing her gaze away from the house to me. The bewildered look in her eyes makes me worried she’s nervous getting introduced to the whole family, but she nods and lets me wrap my arm around her shoulders as we head down the long drive to the front door.

Close to the house, the loud voices through the open windows prove we’re likely the last of my big family to arrive. This is going to be like swinging a wrecking ball (an adorable one) into a beehive.

“So, a crash course on who’s who. Stella is my dad’s youngest sister and she’s married to Beppe. You might have seen their little boy Danilo at the airport. The house belongs to Aunt Alice and Uncle Giuseppe. They have two daughters—Aurora is the one fromthe picture I showed you on the plane. Luca and Mariella’s parents are Fl—”

Lexington stops walking in the middle of the courtyard. “Whoa, that’s a lot of people.”

“I know. Just enjoy yourself and they’ll be happy. I hope you’re hungry.”

I tuck her tighter against me, bracing us both for impact before I open the front door.

It takes all of three seconds for the family to swallow us with hugs, cheek kisses, introductions, laughter, and a posse of kids running between our legs. I’m trying to throw names out for Lexington, but no one gives me much of a chance to make formal introductions. Before I know what’s happened, the women have whisked her off to the kitchen and shooed me away.

I head through the house until I find Nonno out on the patio, seated in a creaky metal rocking chair, watching the younger kids chase Luca in the grass.

I bend over and give him a hug. “Hi,Gramps.”

“You think being the birthday boy keeps you safe from a trick like that?” He thinks the American nickname for Nonno is the weirdest sounding word ever and forbade me from using it on him.

Laughing and dodging his attempt to whack my arm, I pull up another metal outdoor chair.

Luca collapses in a chair next to us, out of breath, and grabs the hose near his feet. When the kids dash over, ready to pull him back out to the grass, he releases a spray of water that sends them screaming and giggling out of reach. He lifts an eyebrow at me. “Hey, you made it. How did you pull that off? I was sure you’d be stranded in the city and I’d have to eat your cake all by myself.”

I glance back into the house, but I can’t see Lexington from here. “I shared a Vespa rental with someone.”

Nonno’s dark eyes jump to mine, sly and mischievous. “Is it who I think?”

“Maybe.” They could find out at any moment, as soon as Lexingtoncomes outside or one of them heads inside, but I like holding out on them, making them squirm with curiosity. It’s not often I have information they don’t.

Luca narrows his eyes at me, attempting to suss out my secrets, but I’m a rock of impassivity. “It was with Lexi Walker, wasn’t it?”

I cross my ankles and huff. “Lucky guess.”

Luca rolls his eyes. “Nice try. You have that same dopey look in your eyes you’ve had all week. I bet you even brought her here with you, didn’t you?”

“Yes.” I glance again at the back door. I hope my aunts and grandma aren’t overwhelming her in there, but knowing Lexington, she’s probably already won them all over.