He made her come three times on his tongue before the timer went off.
He also showed her how to make gnocchi, and together they shaped the little pasta dumplings, munching happily on fresh, hot focaccia dipped in herb-infused oil before Theo took her up to the third-floor master suite. He opened a door she’d assumed was a closet, but it turned out to be stairs leading up to the rooftop, where he had a garden full of herbs and fresh basil.
And a hot tub.
Her mouth fell open at the sight of the city skyline in the distance, visible from where the covered tub sat waiting. She turned to look at him, and he waggled his eyebrows at her. “I told you to bring your bathing suit, didn’t I? Now you know why. Though we could always just go buck nak—”
“You’ve been holding out on me this whole time!” she cried, punching him lightly in the shoulder. He staggered backward in mock pain and surprise, clutching his arm dramatically.
“Ow!”
She shoved him again.
“Why didn’t you show me this any of the other times I was here?!”
“The weather was shitty! And I was saving it for this weekend!” When she lifted a hand for the third time, he caught it easily and grinned wickedly at her. “It was my present to myself for being able to handle stairs again. Figured I needed something that felt nice after all the PT I’ve had to do. I may not have a tub in the master bath, but I do havethis.” He lowered his voice and whispered in her ear. “After we eat, we’ll get in. I promise.”
It was Audrey’s first time making homemade pasta, and dinner was everything she could have wanted: fresh basil and tomatoes and mozzarella, pesto and cheese, soft pillowy gnocchi, perfectly crisped focaccia, flaky sea salt and balsamic glaze, just as he’d promised. It more than made up for the wait. But Theo had also promised her one more thing, and he turned around and pulled an unmarkedtub of something out of the freezer before grabbing two spoons from the drawer.
“Close your eyes,” he murmured.
She did as she was told.
“Open your mouth.”
Ice cream, cold and velvety smooth slid onto her tongue. It was thick and luscious, luxurious in its mouthfeel, and tiny bursts of flavor, floral and caramel, fruity and sweet, alternated with odd ripples of spice and sunshine and richness across her tastebuds, shooting through her mouth and making it ache slightly at the sensation.
“Nowthat, sweetheart,is real vanilla ice cream.”
She opened her eyes to find Theo watching her eagerly. He was practically bouncing on his heels with anticipation.
“What do you think? None of that artificial aftertaste, huh? Not like the industrial shit.”
Audrey pressed her lips together and drew in a deep, contemplative breath. “I don’t know. I think I need another bite. Just to clarify my thoughts.” She opened her mouth and when he obliged, she tasted it again, savoring it deeply even while she bit her cheek to stop a grin from giving her away.
“It’s wonderful, Theo,” she said, still trying her best not to smile. His face lit up in victory. “But I still think it needs some chocolate syrup.”
The victory was short-lived.
“Chocolate syrup.”
His face had fallen, his expression stony and incredulous now.
“Yeah. Hershey’s would be great.”
Theo’s expression darkened further, and he closed his eyes and drew in a long breath, as though in deep, unrelenting pain. He stabbed his spoon into the ice cream container and crossed his arms over his chest.
“Hershey’s.”
“Mm-hmm.” Audrey beamed at him. “Would make it just that much—”
“The crap that has thirty ingredients in it.”
“Precisely.” She nodded. “Goes perfect with vanilla. Covers it all up nicely.”
“You only needfiveingredients to make chocolate syrup.”
“But I like the—”
