"So Granny, this is Piet-umm, Peter. Or Pete," Daisy finished as he held her chair for her. Did he really just hold her chair for her? How old-world. And charming.

She smiled her thanks at him, and he winked back at her; it was almost like he could hear what she was thinking.

They were sitting in her grandmother's kitchen, a cheerful room decorated with lots of knickknack-y things from her native Ireland. She hoped he wouldn't mind the Anglicized version of his name. She just didn't see her grandma wrapping her brain around "Pietro".

Granny didn't look as though she was in a mood to wrap her brain around anything at the moment. In fact, she looked downright mutinous. Her tiny, wizened face looked dubious as she took in Pietro, from his really, really good hair to his green eyes, to his broad shoulders and on down, past his slim hips to his long legs.

Granny poked at her salt-and-pepper bun, something she only did when she was really perturbed, and Daisy felt fleeting guilt over the subterfuge in which she and the boy next to her were going to engage, even if it was for a good outcome.

For his part, Pietro just sat, gazing steadily back at her grandmother. He was probably used to being given the stink-eye by septuagenarians from the old country.

"So this is your husband?" asked Granny, somehow managing to inject hostility and disbelief into every syllable. "The boy who got you pregnant and married you on the sly?"

"Granny, it's not like that, I told you." Daisy tried once again to hold on to her temper. "We didn't exactly plan this pregnancy, but we talked about it, and we're committed to each other. We want to make it work." She reached for Pietro's hand, and hoped it looked more natural than it felt.

He wrapped his long fingers around hers, rubbing them in a very affectionate way. "Yes, Granny--may I also call you that?" he asked with a smile. "Or would you prefer Mrs. White?"

"No, I suppose if you're married to Marguerite, you should call me 'Granny'," she said, somewhat unwillingly. "You're going to be family, and you're going to be living upstairs. 'Mrs. White' would be awkward." She waved a hand in his direction. "Don't bother batting those baby greens at me, Mr. Italian," she said with a smile. "I'm too old for your charm to work on me."

Daisy sat up. OMG, was Granny flirting with Pietro? She looked back and forth between her new husband and her father's mother. No way.

"Baby greens?" Pietro asked with another smile. "I thought greens was another name for vegetables?"

"She's talking about your eyes," Daisy explained, extricating her hand from his.

He let her pull her fingers from his grip, but held on until the last possible second.

"Oh, I see," he said, nodding. "And 'batting', used as a verb, must mean something like 'blinking'?" He looked back and forth between the two women as he took a sip of the coffee in front of him, rapidly blinking the eyes in question.

"Okay, enough of that," Daisy said, rising. "Why don't we go up and look at the apartment?"

They exited and climbed the flight of stairs to the second floor, but her granny turned the corner and kept heading up the stairs, to the third floor.

"Um, Granny? Where are you going? Mr. Turner's the one who's moving out, remember?" Daisy reminded her. "We're moving into 2A."

Her grandmother leaned over the banister to speak to her from half way up the next flight. "No, dear, there's been a change of plans. Mr. Turner just got a promotion, and he's decided to stay, at least through the end of next year. You two are going to have to make do with the third floor rooftop."

Pietro watched Daisy's blue eyes widen with shock as she looked at him. "What? But that apartment's so, um, small," she said as she began to follow her grandma up the next flight of stairs. "I mean, with the baby and everything, we're going to need two bedrooms, don't you think?"

Pietro tried to suppress a grin as he, too, climbed the next flight of stairs. Of course telling a lie of this magnitude was going to have a few wrinkles, and this seemed to be the first. He arrived at the landing just as Granny turned the key.

The apartment was cozy, that was for sure. The kitchen was eat in, with room for only two chairs at the little table. And the door to the bathroom was really just a curtain, because the doorway was wider than the hall, and any door hung there would have hit the opposite wall when it was opened.

Hmm. Daisy's worried eyes met his over Granny's head. Pietro gestured down the hall in a "you first" manner, and she turned and preceded him into the bedroom. It faced the front of the shady street, and had nice bay windows.

"This is a very nice place," he remarked.

"But Granny, the baby?" Daisy persisted. "Shouldn't we have two bedrooms?"

Granny looked up at her granddaughter. "Babies are little, Marguerite. The three of you will be fine here, at least until Mr. Turner moves out next October, I think." She went to fuss with the curtains, obviously believing the conversation to be over. "Unless you're saying I should move up here, and you two take the ground floor?"

"Oh, no, Granny, of course not," Daisy responded in exasperation. "That's your home, you've lived there for fifty years. Besides, you shouldn't be climbing all those stairs."

OMG. One bedroom? No. No way. Daisy ran her fingers through her riotous hair, enhancing the corkscrew effect. Pietro's eyes went to her waist, where her shirt rode up, showing a creamy bit of skin. Daisy saw him looking and quickly pulled her shirt down, smoothing it over her hips.

Pietro turned away, hiding a smile. A girl as pretty as she was surely used to men looking at her. And besides, if they were really going to be sharing this tiny space, personal boundaries were going to be crossed, no two ways about it.

They went back out to the kitchen and living area, which caught all of the morning light. It was a cheerful space, and Pietro saw a small deck area opening off the back wall. Wow. Outdoor space was very hard to come by in New York City. They were lucky.

He opened the door and stepped out into the fall sunshine. Really nice.

"I enjoy plants, but never had the space before. This will be nice for me," he mentioned, waving his hand around.

Daisy looked at him in surprise. He was a gardener? She had a vision of him, sleeves rolled up to show his forearms as he repotted some plant or other, sweat trickling down his tanned neck...

He smirked at her, again, like he knew what she was thinking, and she turned away, huffing a breath of irritation.

Her Granny, too, was looking between the two of them, smiling a little smile, like she knew a secret.

"Granny, stop it!" she snapped. "This place is too small. We need the second floor apartment. Can't Mr. Turner move up here?"

Granny was shaking her head. "No. You know he needs the other room for his painting." Mr. Turner developed software or something for a living, but he loved to paint, and had the second bedroom of his apartment set up as a studio. "He's a good tenant," she continued. "I'm not going to ask him to move."

Pietro stepped close to Daisy and took her hand, raising it to his lips to plant a soft kiss on it. "Daisy, the baby and I will be fine here," he said with another heart melting smile Granny's way.

Daisy again looked at him in surprise, fighting the urge to pull her hand away from his. She couldn't very well tell him to mind his own fucking business, could she? Since this was supposed to be his business?

He looked back at her, smiling.

She shrugged in defeat, nodding toward her Granny. "He's right. We'll be fine. Sorry I'm being so ungracious, Granny. Thanks for letting us stay here, really." She leaned in and kissed her grandmother's wrinkled cheek.

"What about rent?" Pietro asked.

Granny waved all questions about rent away as inconsequential as her arms came up in a strong embrace.

"No need to thank me, Marguerite. You're family. You'll always have a home with me, you know that." She released her granddaughter and pushed her away, as though Daisy had been the one to hug her first, instead of the other way around.

Pietro watched the entire exchange, his green gaze inscrutable. He opened the door to the hallway, gesturing for Daisy to exit first. "After you, cara," he said.

Daisy looked at him sharply, but he didn't seem to intend anything by his words other than a simple term of endearment. She held his gaze, as if to say she was watching him.

The three descended to the main floor, talking about when the actual move in would occur.

Yikes. This was really going to happen.