She walked ahead of him, making a beeline for Vin’s car. Normally, he’d ogle her ass and legs in the low streetlamp light, and imagine the shock on her face if he told her he wanted to see her in nothing but those heels. But tonight wasn’t normal.

He stopped alongside Vin’s $150,000 Ferrari.

See? Not normal.

After they settled into the car, Tony banished the uncomfortable silence with a twist of his wrist, firing the engine. The purring soothed his scattered thoughts, but didn’t quiet them. For lots of reasons, he didn’t want to screw up. Aside from avoiding Angie’s temper and the loss of income, Tony liked Trish. He liked the way she didn’t throw herself at him, and he liked the glimpse of playfulness beneath the professional exterior. In fact, he liked the combination so much he’d call her the marrying kind if a man was so inclined. Which he wasn’t. And because he wasn’t, anything beyond a goodnight kiss to Trish’s cheek was out of the question.

The best thing he could do was get things back to normal.

“Are you mad at me because I said formal living rooms are a waste of space?” he teased.

She smiled, a smile that crinkled the skin around her eyes more than it curled her lips. “No. I’m not mad at you. I’ve just got a lot on my mind.”

“Like decorating formal living rooms.”

She chuckled, but she also gnawed the inside of her bottom lip. Being raised by a bunch of women made him an expert in female, nonverbal communication.

“If you want to talk, I’m good at listening,” he said, gripping her headrest and twisting for a better view as he backed out of the parking spot. “Plus, I know what it’s like to have a lot on my mind. Maybe I can help.”

Her inhale and exhale echoed inside the car. “Tony, I’m sorry. I must seem silly, brooding about my little problems when your family is dealing with Nonna’s illness.”

“Problems are problems.” He hugged the shoulder of the road, not wanting to take any chances with the oncoming traffic and Vin’s car.

“Some problems are bigger than others. Angie said the cancer is inoperable.”

These days everybody wanted to talk about Nonna. Her treatment. Her wish list. How much time she had left.

Tony hated funerals.

Sweaty hands gripped the steering wheel as he stared into oncoming headlights, trying not to relive every gory, emotional detail about his father’s funeral, but the memories were strong enough to make him wince.

“I wish there was something I could do,” Trish said, laying a hand on his thigh. His muscles contracted at the warmth of her palm.

He stared harder at the passing traffic. “Yeah, that seems to be the sentiment. “

“And that’s the reason for the list.”

“Yep. But that list’s sort of become a thorn in my side.”

“Why?”

“Because damned if I know what to do. I highly doubt a ride on a Harley’s going to cut it, and I don’t think she wants an upholstered rocking chair. She wants me to become a priest…” Trish laughed. “Exactly, or get married and have babies.”

Trish stopped laughing on a tiny whoop. He looked at her, catching her eyes wide and her cheeks puffed, like she was holding her breath. “She’s crazy, right?” he asked, waiting for Trish’s lips to break open on a wave of fresh laughter.

But the laughter never came. Instead, she nodded and then turned her head so she faced the passenger window.

Maybe he disappointed her, too. He was getting good at that.

“I’m adopted,” she said. “It’s amazing for me to witness a real family coming together to lessen the pain of one of their own.”

She tipped her head slightly, and he could’ve sworn he saw a glimmer of wet in the corner of her eye, alongside her nose.

He looked back to the road. “I didn’t know you were adopted.”

“Not many people do. I’m a little uncomfortable with the topic.”

His chest puffed on the realization that she was telling him. “You shouldn’t be uncomfortable. Family is more than blood, you know? I have a couple buddies who feel an awful lot like brothers to me. Just don’t tell a Corcarelli I said that. They place an awful lot of credence on that ‘blood-is-thicker-than-water’ thing.”

“I know they do. I watch you and Angie and it makes me sad I’ll never know what that feels like.”

“What? To want to punch the lights out of someone you love?” He chuckled. “Nah. She’s a good kid. Tough on me, though. Woo wee. Tougher than Ma and Nonna. Those two sort of balance Angie out.”

Tony had no idea what would happen once Nonna was gone.

More memories from the days following his father’s funeral snuck into Tony’s brain. You gotta run the business, Tony. Dontcha wanna be like him? Tony struggled for other memories, recent, stronger memories to push the bad ones away. The first one to come to mind was Trish on the dance floor.

He grabbed it in a sleeper hold. “Where’d you learn to dance like that?” he asked, not caring one bit if the dramatic change in subject made him look like a jerk.

She made a cute noise, half-laugh half-cough. “Me? How about you? I just bounce. All women can bounce. It’s a prerequisite to having kids and bouncing them to sleep. But you? I’ve never known a man to dance and not look like a fool. You did not look like a fool.”

He glanced at her then, and she was smiling. He loved the way the expression lifted her cheeks into perfect round balls. “Thanks, but it’s no great feat. When you come from a family as big as mine, you go to a lot of weddings.”

And funerals. Those horrid memories lingered. And that was the problem. Life was a pinball game of weddings and funerals, bouncing from one to the other, throwing in a christening here and there. At the moment, not a single unattached Corcarelli was ready to marry, which meant the next bumper he’d hit was a funeral. Nonna’s funeral.

His brain mashed the thoughts into a wayward image of Nonna at the last family wedding. She beamed while Father Joe blessed the unholy union of Vin and Carrie. Even Nonna knew the relationship was shaky, but she smiled anyway, content with the priest’s proclamation that the pair was a couple before God and man. Hokey if you asked Tony, especially since the marriage was annulled three months later. But considering what was happening now with Nonna’s cancer, he was sort of thankful for Vin’s mistake. That wedding gave Nonna great joy.

If only Tony could find his own Carrie. Not that he wanted to be married to a gold digger. Not that he had much gold to give. But a woman who had no intention of staying married to him, a woman who would eagerly let him off the hook three months after giving Nonna the biggest thrill of what was left of her life? Yeah, Tony could use one of those.

Problem was, where to find her on such short notice.

* * *

Trish looked at Tony, holding open the passenger side door, and then to the lighted front porch of her house. She wanted to get out of the car. She knew she should get out of the car, put some distance between her and the subject of her crazy idea. But her body wouldn’t move. It was as if every cell of her being knew this was her best shot.

At what? Insanity? Trish balked.

“You sure you don’t want to talk about it?” He leaned an elbow on the top of the car door and tipped his head to the right. Moonlight sparkled in his hair and eyes.

“I’m sure.” There was no way she wanted to talk about him being the father of her baby. Thinking about talking about it was bad enough. She swung her legs around and planted her heels on the pavement.

His gaze followed. Instead of the usual inappropriate comment, he simply smiled and backed away, giving her room to stand.

Now what? Shake his hand and skitter away? Hug him? The thought of him holding her close like he did on the dance floor had her nerves dropping like dead weight into the pit of her stomach.

“Thanks again, Tony.” She flashed a quick smile and brushed by him, hoping her quickstep up the walk didn’t look as foolish as it felt.

When she stopped on the porch to gather her keys, she heard footsteps on the wooden stairs behind her.

“You didn’t have to walk me to the door,” she said, spinning around to face him.

He grinned. “Yes, I did. A Corcarelli man is taught never to shirk his duties. Escorting a woman to the safety of her front door is one of them. Besides, I promised your father I would get you home safely.”

She nodded. “Honorable.” And then she dropped her head and her attention to the bottom of her purse, because her thoughts were anything but. The minute he’d mentioned his struggles with Nonna’s wish list, and Nonna’s desire for him to marry and have kids, Trish’s brain started concocting a plan.

“In this instance, yes. I’m being honorable.”

“In every instance I’ve ever witnessed you in,” she chattered as she pushed aside a tube of lipstick and a travel pack of tissues. She wasn’t even sure what she was chattering about. She only hoped the conversation would keep things cordial without him asking something stupid like could he come in, because she’d say yes, and then she’d end up propositioning him—and not in the usual way. Nope, there was nothing usual about asking a man to father her child—so he could make his grandmother’s wish come true, while he made Trish’s wish come true, too.

“You haven’t witnessed me in many places outside work. That’s where I run into trouble.”

“It’s all in good fun, I’m sure.” She wrapped her hand around the silver key and yanked it from her purse. In her overzealousness, the key clanged to the porch floorboards.

Tony sunk on a bend of his knees and gathered what she’d dropped. When he stood, he leaned past her and slid the key into the deadbolt lock. With a flick of his wrist, the door fanned open.