Right now, that doesn’t sound half bad.
We tap the rims of our glasses together, and I taste a small sip. “That is delicious,” I tell him. “And strong.”
What’s more delicious than the negroni is the feel of Franco’s thigh wedged against mine. He’s standing beside my stool, his large form shoulder to shoulder with me so the people beside us have some elbow room.
We have hardly sipped our drinks when Benito comes running out front. He’s dressed like he’s cooking, wearing jeans and a white chef’s jacket.
“Yo,” he greets his brother with a chin lift and claps Franco on the back. “Hi, sweetheart,” he says to me as though we’ve known each other for years and not days. “Ma’s going to be over the fucking moon,” he says, looking from me to Franco. “Her matchmaking has never worked before.”
I can’t tell if he’s teasing or not because Franco smacks his brother on the back and then grabs my drink before motioning for me to follow him. I wave my thanks to Ashley. Her hands are full shaking another round of negronis, but she gives me a chin lift as I hop down off the stool.
Benito seats us himself, doesn’t even give us menus. He just asks me if I have any food allergies or things I don’t like. I shake my head, and he disappears, promising a meal I’ll never forget.
Sassy is our server, and she keeps us going with an endless stream of conversation as she drops off course after course of food. By dessert, I don’t think I can eat another bite, so I refuse the cornmeal cake, but Franco has Sassy pack it to go.
“Don’t tell my brother I said this,” Franco says under his breath, “but that damned cake is my favorite dessert of all time.”
I raise my hand and call out, “Benito.” But I say it quietly just to tease Franco like I’m going to give his secret away.
He grabs my hand by the wrist, and the moment changes, shifts from something playful to something very different. We swap a look that’s both heated and awkward, and he slides his fingers away from my skin. I immediately miss his strength and heat.
Sassy reminds us the meal is on the house.
Franco hands Sassy her tip in cash and thanks her for the meal. Then he stands and kisses her cheek.
She fusses over me, and I realize she doesn’t yet know about what happened at the shop—or at least, she isn’t bringing it up.
“Am I taking you home with me?” he murmurs, his lips quirked in a smile.
I must be a little tipsy because I say exactly what’s on my mind. “Only if you promise I don’t have to sleep on the couch,” I say.
I am momentarily horrified.
I mean, the man’s opened his home to me, and I’ve just brazenly demanded what…that he sleep with me?
Share his bed?
Spoon me again until I feel his hard length against my bottom?
I feel the flush light up my cheeks, but that’s nothing compared to how I feel when he leans down and whispers in my ear.
“Babe, you’re not leaving my side tonight,” he says with a sly grin, and for a moment…I’m hopeful for more than a hug.
11
FRANCO
We walkthrough the door of my place together like we’re coming home. The feeling is unusual—no, it’s more than that. It’s fucking weird.
I’ve had plenty of women back to my place over the years, but never once has the person at my side felt like she belonged there. With me. I’m not sure whether to shake the feeling or embrace it.
I don’t have to think long because as soon as we’re in the door, we stand side by side taking off our boots. Chloe kicks hers off first and then steps up to me. She’s looking me in the face, her sweet lower lip tucked between her teeth.
“Franco, I…”
I have no idea what she’s thinking, but she rises on her toes and places a featherlight kiss against my cheek. “Thank you,” she whispers, looping her arms around my neck. “For everything today.”
I feel like she’s moving back, stepping away from me, but I don’t want to let her go. I circle my hands around her waist, and that seems to be the invitation she needs to stay right where she is. To come even closer, in fact. “You’re…welcome,” I manage as she flutters her eyelids shut and sways against me.
