“With yourculoon display for the entire world to see.”
The words came out of Tony’s mouth with such vehemence, everyone in the place had to have heard him. Heads turned. Even her dad interrupted his task to look over at them.
Mortified, Gina hid behind her hand. “I’ve got panties on.”
“Couldn’t tell.”
“Simmer down, man. Your sister didn’t know. Now, she does.” CJ turned from Tony to her. “Listen to me, little girl, this is nothing—just ask Ava and Chloe.”
Gina rolled her eyes. Was this guy ever going to shut up?
“You aren’t prepared for what’s coming, Buttercup, so you better run. Get out while you still can.”
With a toss of her ponytail, she snickered. “Is the moon full?”
“I think it was a few days ago, why?”
Crazy shit always seems to happen then, and you, sir, are out of your fucking mind.
“Uh, no reason.”
“I better go or I’ll be late for work.” She stood and, collecting her bags, Gina kissed her eldest brother on the cheek. “Thanks for dinner.”
Matt watched her from the hallway.
At the kitchen island, with her hair in a loose braid down her back, Gina drenched her hands in olive oil and pressed her fingers into the dough, making dimples in it. Focused as she was on her task, she didn’t notice him standing there, not six feet behind her. She worked in quiet contemplation, gnawing at her lip as she went, and he wondered what was going on in that beautiful mind of hers.
Something stirred. She’d been preoccupied—almost pensive—since he’d picked her up at work Wednesday morning. Matt thought of asking her about it, but other than catching Gina musing when she thought he wasn’t looking, nothing felt amiss. She gazed at him, love and longing in her eyes, and kissed him with unquestionable desire. Not one to hold back, she’d give voice to her thoughts once she was ready to, and when she did, he’d hold her and listen.
He wound his arms around her middle, his nose nuzzling into the graceful curve of her neck, as she washed the oil from her hands. “You smell so damn delicious. I want to devour you.”
“Again?” And with a giggle, Gina turned around, her wet hands dangling over his shoulders. “It’s got to be thefocacciayou’re hungry for.”
“No.” He lowered his lips to hers, their noses touching, and tasted her sweetness. “It’s definitely you.”
Gina cinched her arms around his neck and, drawing him even closer, slipped her tongue inside his mouth. Enthusiastic. Engaged. Connected. She kissed him the way every man wants the woman he loves to kiss him.
“I love you.” Soft lips swept over his cheek, then she turned back around, sprinkling salt and fresh rosemary on the dough. “Twenty minutes in the oven, and we should be good to go. I whipped up some ricotta with olives and roasted red peppers to take along, too. It’s amazing on warmfocaccia.”
“Isn’t that what the eggplant stuff we made last night is for?”
Gina had him chopping the baby variety into little cubes, along with onions, garlic, peppers, celery, and olives. She insisted each ingredient had to be sautéed until caramelized separately. Matt didn’t understand why that mattered so much, but he rolled with it. Bo was having a cookout so the boys could work on the songs for the new record while the girls hung out together, and he understood she wanted to make a good impression.
“Thecaponata?” She threw him an amused grin, sliding the baking sheet into the oven. “I figured we could bring both.”
“Why not?” He picked her up and sat her on the quartz countertop, wrapping her legs around his waist. “Variety’s a good thing, right?”
“It’s the spice of life, so I hear.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked, detecting the snark in her tone.
She only shrugged. “That’s what they say, isn’t it?”
And just who the fuck is ‘they’?
“If there’s something on your mind, Gina, then say it.” Matt squeezed her shoulders with a heavy sigh. “Because watching you wrestle with it is making me nuts.”
“It doesn’t matter.”
