“He’s a good guy.” Ethan dragged the last of a croissant through the salad dressing and ate it with a sated sigh. “Tomorrow I’ll grill for us.”
“I don’t mind, baby. I’ve got little else to do right now. I feel that I can’t move forward until I finalize things with both the Church and my parents.”
“I get that,” Ethan said. “What is your plan with your mother?”
“I’m going to wait until Friday to call the bishop. If he doesn’t pick up after several attempts, I’ll go above him to the Ecclesiastical Council for this region. Someone has to give me answers. Once I hear from them, I’ll contact my parents.”
The dip in the bridge of Ethan’s nose deepened, which creased his forehead. “What are you thinking so hard about?”
Ethan pushed his plate away and leaning in, arms on the table, he clasped my hands. “I don’t want to make you worry more than you are already. But I’m concerned about the silence from Father Matthew and your mother. It’s like the calm before the storm.”
Slipping my hands free, I got up, kissed his wrinkled brow, and then began clearing the dishes. “I’ve been thinking the same thing, baby. So, you haven’t added any more stress. Actually, I feel better that we’re on the same page and I’m not being neurotic.”
Ethan joined me in clearing the table and stored away the leftover salads while I loaded the dishwasher, which took all of two minutes. I’d washed all the utensils and bowls I’d used in the preparation earlier. When we were finished, Ethan asked, “Do you want a beer?”
“Sure,” I said, “and we can sit on the patio. There should be a nice breeze off the ocean.”
“Not to belabor the subject,” Ethan said, “but I think you should reach out to your mother. You know her well enough to figure out if she’s up to something.”
“Yeah, you’re probably right.”
We sat outside until twilight, then cuddled on the sofa and watched a documentary on the city of Syracuse on the Ionian coast of Sicily. I delighted in Ethan’s own documentary as he recounted the few times that he’d been there, pointing out on the screen when certain sights showed, like the Roman Amphitheatre and Teatro Greco commemorating the fact that Syracuse was known as having been the chief Greek city of ancient Sicily.
Afterward, with Ethan still smiling about his homeland, we lay in bed, our limbs entangled. “Will you take me one day?”
He knew where I was referring to when he pledged, “I promise we’ll go. Being able to experience the land through your perspective would be a pleasure…” He sucked my bottom lip. “…and a privilege.” Then the tip of his tongue teased the seam of my lips.
Ethan didn’t have to tease me for long because I parted my mouth, the warm slick of his tongue against mine, not in a frenzied duel but a tender mating, like Ethan and I were meant to be paired. Our kisses were languid, gentle caresses.
“We’ll visit my hometown and all the men in my extended family will be jealous of me for finding someone who makes my heart thump in double-time.”
I stroked the side of his face, the mere touch of him sent sparks of fire through my limbs. “I first have to pass inspection with Mamma.”
“Oh shit, I’m glad you mentioned her,” Ethan said, popping up. “Frank told me to call her with your favorite food.”
“That’s easy, lasagna, but I’ve never had the homemade kind,” I said timidly. “Is that okay?”
“More than. It’s one of her signature meals to serve. See, you’ve already passed inspection.”
Grinding my knee against his balls, I asked, “Do I check allyourboxes, baby?”
Groaning, Ethan said, “I can’t say until I do more tests.”
“What kind of tests?” I asked suggestively.
He rolled on top of me and fingered a lock of my hair, then tugged lightly to tip my head back. The move gave him access to my throat. He licked and kissed his way to my jaw where he dipped his tongue into the corner of my mouth. I tried to snag it but missed and he chuckled. Working his way around behind my ear, my body sang with pleasure. “Test number one. How long can I kiss you all over until you beg me to come?”
I snagged Ethan’s nipple ring with my teeth and tugged.
“No fair,” he hissed.
“Haven’t you ever heard of the expression, all’s fair in love and war?”
Sliding his hand between us, Ethan smeared precum on our cocks, then he grabbed them in his calloused hands and shuttled them, slow and easy.
Sucking in a breath, I rasped, “I never realized that I had a thing for guys that work with their hands.”
“Guys, plural?” Ethan groused, sounding both teasing and serious.
