“Yes, is maybe lunch,” I agree.
“Is muffuletta?” he asks with excitement.
I try not to deflate. “You’ve had it?”
“Is one of my loves. I know this sandwich comes from New Orleans, but I still thank you, as is all Italian ingredients and is one of my family’s favorites.”
“Figures I’d make something you’re familiar with. At least you’ll know if I did this iconic sandwich justice,” I grumble as I shoo them out of the kitchen. “Ready in ten. Go wash up and get Danny.”
My opinion is that the bread is slightly under baked, but no one seems to mind, given how the four of them scarf down the sandwiches with grunts and groans and sling back glass bottles of Coke. I stare wordlessly as they feast rather Neanderthal style.
“It’s just a sandwich,” I finally say.
“Yeah, but it’s a fucking killer sandwich,” Danny gets out between bites.
Paul thumps the table and points at him. “Language!”
Danny wipes his mouth and swallows hard. “You swear all the time! Still, sorry. Ahem. Lovely flavor in this layered-food luncheon composition.”
“Obnoxious but better.” Paul does smirk though.
When they’re done and bringing their plates to the kitchen, Slowski pats me on the back, and Matteo shocks me when he picks me up in a hug and spins us around.
“Time here reminds me of my favorite trip to the States and also the flavors of Italy. You are so much all the things!”
A thunderous sound from the front yard makes me jump, and Matteo pulls back and lights up. “Yes! Is washing machine and drying machine!”
“Oh”—I smile—“I forgot.”
“Is now day off for us, I think, yes?”
After everyone has rinsed and tossed their plates into the dishwasher, they disperse, and I wander outside. Paul has rushed out to oversee the delivery and is also ushering around another crew who will handle these installations, so I wander over to watch Danny as he addresses the broken dock, and of course, Shallots follows.
“Pretty cute, huh?” I whisper to the best basset hound ever. “Let’s sit and watch.”
So we do.
And at least one of us appreciates the fact that Danny is shirtless while in the water and working away and that he soon emerges with all sorts of bulging arm muscles.
And we both soak up the sun, view, and fresh air. And there is no smog, no skyscrapers, no excess noise. Only the sounds of a dock being rebuilt and only silent, cute glances thrown my way. Until he finally speaks.
“This is a piece of shit—did you know that?”
When he sets himself decidedly and rather angrily on the few crappy boards he hasn’t ripped out yet, I probably look less than apologetic, but given how adorable he looks, I’m grateful no actual drool seems to be falling over my lips.
“No, butyoushould have known,” I say. “You’ve been hanging here more than I have. Illegal boating and all.”
He laughs. “That’s true. I didn’t realize how bad it was, but it’ll be in perfect shape by tonight.”
“I know. I know it will.” I stand and back up slowly, but I ask, “Hey, if you want to stay for dinner again tonight, I might be making a new soup. But only if you want.”
Danny’s smile is warm and sultry and calming and perfect. “I’m on board with anything you want.”
“I want.”
“So, polar bears and chill?” he asks.
Heat rushes through me. “Yeah. Polar bears and chill.”
