Hold Him Like Gravity (Lombardi Family #4)

Rico - 8 months

“You gotta have an open mind,” I told Kick as we walked up the street toward the condo I was thinking of buying.

“Okay…” she said, brows pinching.

“It’s about the potential,” I added as we approached the building.

“Is this your careful way of telling me it’s a complete wreck?” she asked, clearly knowing me too well already.

“It… needs some work,” I admitted as the real estate agent moved outside to let us in.

The building itself was nice. New floor, new paint, all the bells and whistles when it came to security and amenities.

But the previous owners of the penthouse had started to do major renovations only to run out of money. Then go to jail for their insider trading.

“I’m starting to think you are lying just to surprise me,” Kick said as we walked off the elevator to the top hall featuring two penthouses, looking at the 3D wallpaper and the bronze wall sconces.

The real estate agent shot me a knowing smile as she pressed the key into the lock, then let us move inside on our own.

“Oh… wow,” Kick said, eyes going round as she took in the mess.

The walls were stripped down to the studs. The floors had been ripped up, leaving just the plywood underneath our feet as we moved inside.

“I did warn you,” I said. “But, look at it this way, we can choose every detail. Even where the walls go,” I added. “We could do two bigger spare rooms. Or three slightly smaller ones,” I told her, leading her around the space. “I even saved some ideas for built-in features for Evander. And bookshelves for you.”

“You don’t have to—“

“We,” I cut her off, “will be making it the perfect place for us and that includes somewhere to put your books. But if you’d rather pick somewhere fully finished already, we can do that. This will be a solid eight to twelve months of construction here.” Even with tossing as much money at the Costa construction company as I wanted to incentivize them.

“I’m not in a rush,” she said. “I like spending time with Bass,” she insisted. I was sure it helped that Bastian still spent most nights out of the apartment, only coming home in the early hours of the morning to catch a shower and some sleep. “I like the idea of getting to pick everything out ourselves. I mean, not that I am any good at that kind of thing. But you are.”

And after living with her for months, I was starting to see the types of things she liked and needed, so I could incorporate that kind of shit into the build too. More space in the bathroom cabinets. More linen closets. A comfortable chair to read in. Room for the plant collection that seemed to be growing by the day.

“Wanna see one of the best parts?” I asked, reaching for her hand.

“Absolutely,” she agreed, letting me lead her through what would, eventually, be the primary bedroom. Then through the sliding glass doors and out onto the massive balcony.

“Oh, wow,” she gasped, eyes going wide. “We could put plants out here! An actual garden. And furniture. We could start hosting outdoor parties,” she said, rounding the edge of the building. There was a tall cement wall blocking our side of the balcony from the other penthouse’s one.

By the time she came back around, I already had the box out of my pocket and in my hand.

“What…” she started, then her gaze went to the ring nestled in the blue velvet.

“Marry me,” I said, watching as her eyes went glassy. “And I promise I’ll build you your very own library.”

“With a ladder for gliding on?” she asked, sniffling.

“And room on top for plants,” I agreed.

“Yes,” she said, reaching to grab my face and pull it to hers, sealing her lips to mine before I could even get the ring on her finger.

“Well, now we both have projects to work on,” she said when we finally broke apart and I slid the diamond on her finger, feeling the weight of what I was offering her.

My future.

Forever.

I couldn’t imagine either without her.

“You build our home,” she said, pressing another quick kiss to my lips. “And I will plan the wedding.”

Kick - 2 years

“You’re sure it’s straight?” I asked Saff who was sitting on the counter in the shop.

Not the meat shop.

My shop.

A plant shop.

Right next to the meat shop, sure, since Rico was overprotective and wanted me close to him and his soldiers, but my venture.

“Stop touching it,” Saff demanded, shaking her head at me as my hands dropped away from the sign on the wall.

It was a small shop.

Heavily featuring plants that I’d actually propagated from my own collection at home.

But I had it set up in a way that I hadn’t seen in any of the other plant shops I’d visited in the boroughs. I had the plants separated by how easy or finicky they were.

There was the ‘You Can’t Kill These’ section featuring things like pothos, heart leaf philodendrons, snake, and ZZ plants and a ‘Will Probably Break Your Heart’ section featuring the much more finicky ferns, alocasias, fiddles, and strings of pearls.

I had planters made by local artisans, a ‘soil bar’ where you could stock up on my special chunky house blend, fertilizers, and some merchandise.

“I know,” I said at her head shake when I touched the sign again. “I’m just nervous,” I admitted. “I really want this to work.”

“Didn’t you hear?” Saff asked. “They used to say that dogs are the new children, but now, plants are the new dogs. Everyone wants to live in a jungle these days. It’s gonna be a huge hit.”

It wasn’t like I was filling a void. There were a bunch of plant shops in Brooklyn. But there weren’t any in this particular neighborhood. And I really put a lot of thought into the look of the place, wanting to appeal to that younger generation that was as plant-obsessed as I had become once I got my first gateway plant.

“Okay. Open up already,” she demanded as she hopped off of the counter.

It was half an hour early, but I was too excited to care as I unlocked the door and flipped the sign.

Some part of me was worried sick that I would just stand there all day, heart breaking, with no one walking in.

But within fifteen minutes of flipping the sign, two young women passing with their coffees came rushing in, all excited to see I had one of their ‘dream’ plants for sale.

I’d been busting my butt promoting the plant shop on socials and through flyers, including ones I had up at the meat shop.

By mid-day, I felt safe saying that Lombardi Living Roots was already a success.

No, I was never going to get rich selling plants. But I didn’t need to. Rico made more than enough money to keep us comfortable. I just wanted to do something that brought me joy. And, well, the family could always use another way to wash a little money.

Saff made her way out mid-day after a particularly tense call but I had visits from a bunch of the women in the family throughout the day, reminding me why I’d chosen the name for the shop that I had.

Because roots were exactly what this family had given me. For once in my life, I was safe and stable enough to let my roots grow good and deep, without fear that they might get pulled out at any time. And that allowed me to finally thrive, to reach my own full potential.

Instead of bells on the door, I’d opted for this cute little door chime that chirped like a bird.

“I’ll be right out,” I called, washing my hands after repotting a plant that a curious three-year-old had knocked down while his mom was distracted by a particularly gorgeous Pink Princess philodendron.

“You’re taking a quick lunch break,” Rico’s voice said, walking into the back room with me.

Before I could turn, he was moving in behind me at the sink, pinning me against it with his body. He ducked down, his lips going to my neck, kissing that spot just behind my ear I loved so much.

“Been busy over here,” he said, and my belly flip-flopped at the idea of him watching.

He’d been so supportive through the whole process. Renting the building, helping me plan the interior of the shop, carting endless packages inside with me, listening to my late night panic attacks about it all being a giant failure, and even taking a bunch of the promotional images for the shop for me.

I couldn’t have gotten to opening day without him.

“It has,” I agreed, melting against him. “I think it’s going to go well.”

“I know it is,” he said, teeth nipping my earlobe as his hand slid up my belly.

I glanced down, seeing the ring on his finger I’d slipped on just four months ago. I still got all warm and gooey inside when I saw it. And finally understood why, all during our engagement, he would always turn my hand to look at my engagement ring on my finger.

It had been a gorgeous wedding.

Lots of flowers.

All of our loved ones.

Even some of the other Five Family members had shown up.

One of them, Anthony Costa, who’d done most of the work on our condo, had nearly knocked over our wedding cake, but had been pulled away by his tie at the last possible second by his wife.

But other than that, it had gone off without a hitch. Save for a particular floral arrangement that had caused a lot of stir, all of the capos standing around talking in hushed voices with concerned eyes until Saff had grabbed my hand, dragged me over there, and demanded that Rico tell me what was going on.

And that was that the flowers had been sent by my brother.

He hadn’t made contact since Rico and the others had driven him out of the city. I honestly hadn’t even cared to keep tabs on him, to know what he was up to. After what he’d done in my past, he’d forfeited his right to my future.

The flowers had been daisies, my favorite when I was a kid. And the card had been a simple I’m sorry. You deserved better. I hope you’re happy.

I didn’t hate Jake. Even after everything.

But that didn’t mean he was forgiven.

It didn’t mean he would ever be allowed in my life again.

I had my real family now.

The ones who would do everything in their power to protect me, to support me. The ones who genuinely loved me.

“This is very unprofessional of us,” I said as Rico’s hands slid under my shirt and slipped under the cups of my bra, cupping me, teasing.

“When has that ever stopped us?” Rico asked, grinding his hardness against my ass.

“That’s true,” I said, thinking of all the times we’d been just like this in the office of the meat shop. During workdays. After hours. We could never keep our hands to ourselves.

So I took a little lunch break with my husband.

Seven weeks later, when I was two weeks late, I was pretty sure we could pinpoint that little rendezvous as the moment we conceived our first child.