“How are you feeling?”
“I’m good. Sit down, Fizzy. Maisie’ll let you know if she needs you.”
I bit my lip and sighed. “Are you sure?”
“I’m sure.”
I sat on the sofa beside him and set my purse on the ground.
“Did you really make apple pie?” he asked.
“I did. It’s my grandmother’s recipe.”
He grinned. “You like me.”
I rolled my eyes. “Whatever.”
“Now, the sixty-four-thousand-dollar question is, did you bring ice cream?”
“Of course I brought ice cream,” I said with mockhorror. “I’m not an animal.”
He grinned wider. “Youreallylike me.”
“I guess it all depends on whether or not you like the pie.”
Gio raised an eyebrow. “Haven’t met an apple pie I didn’t like.”
“That sounds like me with potatoes.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yes. I would marry potatoes if it was legal.”
“Do you cook as well, or is baking your specialty?”
“I can cook,” I admitted. “Although, I order in more than I should. It’s not much fun cooking for one. What about you? Do you cook special?”
He gave me a crooked smile. “Shut up, Annette.”
“Oh my god!” I couldn’t stop a laugh as I clapped my hands. “Donnie Brasco is in my top five. I knew you were a closet wise guy.”
“Nah, I’m more of a wise ass,” he retorted. “And, yeah, I cook. I just haven’t in a while. I don’t have a great kitchen, and I agree, it’s not much fun cooking for one.”
“I have a phenomenal kitchen.”
“Yeah?”
I nodded. “It’s why I bought the unit. That and the bathroom.”
“Can’t wait to see it.”
I shivered. The thought of him in my space did things to my body.
Good things.
“Right, you two, we’re ready,” Maisie said.
“Can I help?” I asked.
