She ignored him as she pulled the completely flattened doughnut out of the bag and took an enormous bite, smiling happily as she chewed. “Perfect.”
“It’s not going to be perfect when you ruin the dinner I spent all day preparing,” Vin’s grandma grumbled as she generously topped off her champagne glass.
“You spent all day preparing, did you? Was that before or after yoga, or your ‘afternoon delight,’” Vin’s mother said, outraged.
“Whoa, whoa,” Luc said, moving between the two women before a fight could erupt. “Two things. No fighting about cooking. Remember? That’s why we hosted this shindig at Anth’s place. Second thing, afternoon delight. Thought we agreed that Nonna’s geriatric sex life was off-limits for family dinner conversation?”
“Oh, Luca,” Nonna said with a shake of her head. “You’re telling me you and Ava never—”
Luc’s girlfriend gently reached out and tipped Nonna’s champagne glass up to her lips. “Let’s not finish that sentence, hmm?”
Vincent barely heard any of this.
He was too busy watching the way Jill happily devoured her doughnut.
She was holding the sugary mess with her left hand.
Which was adorned with a brand-new diamond that was threatening to break the heart he didn’t know he had.
CHAPTER FOUR
Jill was getting married.
Vin had repeated the thought to himself at least a dozen times in the thirty minutes since his brothers had dropped the bomb.
Jill was getting married.
Nope.
Still didn’t feel like fact. It wasn’t… right.
“She looks happy.”
Vin flicked his eyes to the side, trying to figure out if his older brother was looking for a fight, but Anthony merely stood there with his usual unreadable expression. Plus, he was holding out a beer, so…
Vincent accepted the beer with a grunt.
“You don’t,” Anth said, shifting so he mimicked Vincent’s posture of back to the wall. It was a place Vin found himself a lot. Off to the side. Out of the way. Watching.
“I don’t what?” Vincent asked.
“Look happy,” his brother said.
Vincent didn’t respond as he took a sip of beer, not really bothered by the observation.
Anth was hardly one to talk about looking happy.
Anthony Moretti was the oldest of the Moretti siblings, older than Vincent by two years, and nearly as taciturn as Vincent himself.
Less so now though, Vincent had to admit. His brother had become a different man since meeting and falling for Maggie Walker. Vin couldn’t blame him; Maggie was good people.
Still, even with his beautiful new wife and baby on the way, Anth wasn’t exactly forthcoming with big toothy grins.
Of the five Moretti siblings, he and Anth were the most alike. Marc and Luc were more easily likable. Quick with a smile and a joke. Elena, as the only girl, was the family darling, and as quick with a smile as she was with a tantrum.
But Anth and Vincent were cut of the same cloth. Quiet, reserved, ambitious.
It was these similarities that prevented them from getting along.
That, and the fact that Anth had never been good about minding his own business. He was classic oldest sibling in all the worst ways. Bossy. Interfering. Condescending…
“Aren’t you two cute, over here looking all sulky and pissed,” came a too-cheerful voice from Vincent’s right.
Both he and Anth turned to glare at Luc. Yet another thing Vin and Anth had in common: they were both quite adept at getting irritated with their youngest brother.
“Shut it, bambino,” Vin said. Luc, being the baby of the family, took his fair share of shit but was remarkably good at never letting his older brothers get under his skin.
Case in point, Luc merely grinned wider before pivoting around so his back too was to the wall. “I see why you two losers like it over here in the corner. Great view of the womenfolk.”
Vincent let himself look in the direction Luc indicated. It was, indeed, an excellent view of the females in the room, and that right there only served to aggravate Vincent’s bad mood.
Jill was getting married.
So very absurd was the idea that Vincent had briefly held on to hope that she was just jacking with him.
But no. The ring was real. The nonstop chatter about the dress was real.
The engagement was real.
Currently her left hand was the center of a girly circle.
Vincent’s sister Elena clasped Jill’s wrist firmly as the rest of the women oohed and ahhed over the atrocious rock on her finger.
His sister’s enthusiasm, he could see. Jill and Elena had been best friends for years. Maggie and Ava too made sense. The four women had been thick as thieves ever since Luc and Anth had brought Ava and Maggie into the family.
But his mother was also making squealy girl-ish noises, fussing with Jill’s hair every second, talking about dress shopping and updos and other horrors.
Even Nonna—his feisty, zero-BS grandmother—was getting in on the nonsense, all but hopping around Jill, demanding to be a bridesmaid.
“Who’s the guy?” Luc asked quietly.
“Why you asking me?” Vincent asked testily.