Page 262 of Lorenzo

“I was distracted by the food.”

“It was good food.”

Mocha gets up from the rug and comes over, apparently realizing the evening is finally nearing its end.

I bend to rub his head. “You ready to go home?”

The word leaves my mouth before I think about it.

Home.

Lorenzo’s house.

I realize what I said a second too late.

And I know Lorenzo did too.

His eyes are on me when I straighten, but he doesn't dare speak.

“Ready to go?” he asks, then he smiles. “Home?”

“Damn you,” I whisper.

His smile grows.

I know he is going to store this away and use it against me later.

For some reason, I cannot bring myself to mind very much.

But who would I be if I didn't grumble?

“Let's just get out of here,” I say.

Rinaldi appears near the entrance a few minutes later to let Lorenzo know the vehicles are ready. Outside, the rain is still falling, visible beyond the windows in the glow from the exterior lights.

Goodbyes take longer than they should because apparently leaving a Conti gathering is a process of its own, even this late. Alessio crouches to say goodbye to Mocha, Edoardo gives him another scratch behind his ears before he can stand, and Matteo insists he should come back soon.

“You all know I come with him, right?” I ask.

Tomasso considers that. “We find that acceptable.”

I put a hand over my heart. “I’m touched.”

Eventually we make it to the front hall, where Lorenzo helps me into my coat while Mocha waits at my side.

Mario comes over before we leave.

His gaze drops to Mocha.

“I suppose he can come back.”

I grin. “Look at you.”

Mario immediately regrets speaking.

“I can withdraw the invitation.”

“No, you can’t. Mocha heard you. You'll hurt his feelings.”