Matt walks over to the bottle of cabernet sauvignon sitting on the counter.
After handing me a glass, he bites his lip, betraying his nervousness, and my shoulders unclench from relief. At least I’m not the only one who feels weird about this.
“So, um, this situation feels a little strange. I’m not really sure how to…” he lets his words trail off.
“I hear you,” I say. “Weird twist of fate, right? Both of us ending up trapped here?”
“Um, yeah. For sure. What are the chances?” He shakes his head, and then turns to the stove and lifts the lid off the big pot containing the sauce. It smells like heaven, and in response my stomach lets out a huge growl.
“Whoa, you are hungry! We’d better get this plated before your stomach starts trying to eat your other internal organs!” He smirks at me and grabs a couple of plates, dishing out two generous servings of spaghetti.
He opens the oven and pulls out a basket of garlic bread that’s been keeping warm, and my mouth waters, salivating like Pavlov’s dog. Yeah, I’m hungry.
He nods at the basket of garlic bread on the counter as he brings the plates of spaghetti over to the big farmhouse table on one side of the kitchen, so I grab it and we take our seats. Taking a bite, I can’t hold back a moan.
“Holy shit on a shingle.I think I just had an out of body experience.” I gasp because the sauce really is that good.
He responds with the most adorable smile, a hint of pink staining his cheeks. “Thanks. I think Nonna would be satisfied with that reaction .
Chapter 9
MATT
Case'smoanwhenhetastes Nonna’s sauce is nearly enough to make me come in my pants, and I have to shift in my chair to my dick doesn’t get completely squished. I don’t think my brain has quite accepted what’s happening here. I keep expecting to wake up. Like this is some kind of weird, ultra-vivid dream. Twelve hours ago, I was packing up my car to spend a few days alone at a remote cabin, and now I’m sitting here in what basically amounts to a palace in the mountains with the man who rocked my world so thoroughly that I’ve been unable to stop thinking about him for a year.
After he recovers from the first bites of spaghetti, we eat in comfortable silence. Clearly Case really was starving, because he scarfs down his first plate, and then hops up eagerly to get another helping.
“God, this is fantastic, thank you again,” he says when he’s slowed down enough to breathe.
“You must have been a nightmare to keep fed when you were a teenager,” I remark with a grin, letting my eyes trail over his tall, solid body. He’s definitely over six feet, and I know from our one night together that he’s in great shape. I have to close my eyes for a second when my brain flashes back to the feeling of his hot, sweaty skin sliding against my own. And there we go.Between his moan when he tasted the sauce, and my body’s determination to embarrass the shit out of me, I’m rock hard.
Case chuckles as he takes another bite. “Yeah, between me and my four brothers, I think my mom pretty much lived at the grocery store when we were growing up.”
“Whoa, you have four brothers?”
“Plus one sister,” he says with a smirk. “But to be fair, the last two were twins, so my parents weren’t actually expecting to have that many kids. Although my mom likes to say that once you get to three kids, adding a few more makes no difference, because once the parents are outnumbered, all bets are off. My dad would joke about parents of more than two kids having to play zone defense instead of man-to-man coverage, so three kids or five didn’t change anything.”
I smile, “I had three, and I have to say I don’t think adding any more would have been a good idea. Michele always had her hands full.”
He smiles. “How about you?” he asks. “Any siblings you grew up causing trouble with?”
I shake my head. “Nope, only child. My house was probably a lot less chaotic than yours. I used to wonder what it would be like to have a brother or sister though. But I probably wouldn’t have liked sharing my mom’s attention.”
Case grabs the wine bottle, splitting the last of it between our glasses.
“Aah, so you were a mama’s boy growing up, huh?” His eyes twinkle as he teases me.
I laugh. “You could say that, I guess. My dad worked a lot of hours, so my mom and I spent a lot of time together when I was young.” I smile, those fuzzy memories being some of my favorites.
“Nice. Are you still close with her?” he asks, taking a sip of wine.
I clear my throat. “I think I would be, but she passed away when I was a teenager. My dad raised me after that.”
Case’s eyes go wide. “I’m so sorry. I can’t imagine losing my mom so young.” He reaches out and places his big hand over mine where it’s resting on the table.
“It’s okay. It was a long time ago. Losing her at a young age meant she missed my ‘rebellious asshole stage', so all my memories of her are good. We never fought.” I smile.
There’s a slightly awkward pause in our conversation before I clear my throat and get up to clear the dishes away. Case hops up to help, and it doesn’t take long to get the kitchen cleaned up.
