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“Extra garlic, minced so fine you can paint with it. Oh, and I make the breadcrumbs myself from day-old bread from that bakery down the street,” he explains.

Luca takes a bite of the salad. “And this coleslaw? Incredible.”

No one makes antipasto like Nonno. He slices everything impossibly thin, sometimes spending all morning getting it right.

A real feat at his age when his vision isn’t what it used to be.

He beams proudly.

Anyone who compliments my grandfather’s cooking might as well be a member of the family already.

Ugh, this is hard.

If it were just an introduction and we were just dating, this wouldn’t be half-bad.

My belly knots, dreading what has to come out next.

And just when I’m starting to think they’ve forgotten about me, lost in their conversation about good Italian delis, Luca reaches under the table and gently caresses my thigh.

I nearly hit the ceiling at first.

But then I realize how nice it feels.

I’ve never had a guy do that, drawing lazy circles on my leg.

Not in a sexual way, but clearly possessive.

His, and no one else’s.

Then I feel something else.

The ring, which he had in his pocket. I must’ve forgotten it at the house, and it’s not like I can wear it to work anyway.

He slowly slides it back on my finger. We decided we’d wait to show it off until the right moment.

As his fingers trace up my thigh again, Luca steers the subject away from the awe-inspiring dinner. “So, Max, have you been getting your walks in?”

“I have. With my new trainer.” Nonno wipes his mouth with a red-and-white checked cloth napkin. “Nice new trainer the clinic hired. He’s all right.”

“Oh, yeah? Trainer, huh?” I stare at my grandfather, then Luca, playing dumb.

“Yep. He goes by Jason and he’s a tough SOB,” Nonno growls before grinning. “I like him! Never slept so good in my life. One hour with him feels like a year busting my hump. Haven’t slept like that since my roofing days.”

I blink. I don’t want him getting too good a workout.

“Really, Nonno? I didn’t know Everhart had that service.”

“Don’t worry about it, piccolina. It’s a new program,” he says, patting my hand. “All fully covered by my insurance, believe it or not. I don’t have to pay a dime. It’s part of some new study or pilot for the elderly, I guess. Jason, he just stopped in one day and told me it was free of charge. He had the official paperwork and all, or I never would’ve let him into this house. Can you believe that?”

Luca wipes his mouth with a napkin.

“They’re doing God’s work these days up at the hospital,” Luca says smugly. “I’m glad to hear it’s helping you.”

I flash my husband a knowing look and he bites back a devilish smile.

After the serving dishes are empty and we’re all full, I start clearing plates.

“Wait there, piccolina,” Nonno says, struggling up. “I have my famous tiramisu, if you want to fetch it. Let me put some coffee on first.”