Page 125 of Valentino

One thing has become blaringly clear, so loud that there is no chance of ignoring it. The stakes are high, there’s a lot to lose.

My happiness depends on us finding a way to make this work because I already know there’s no getting over him.

I take a deep steadying breath, it’s fine…everything is fine.

Just keep calm and stir the fucking chicken. I’m freshly showered, primped and primed, excited to see him.

“Right,” I whisper. “Should I pour a glass of wine?” I open the fridge. “No, he’ll think you’re a raging alcoholic drinking wine every single day.”

Maybe I am.

I slam the refrigerator shut, okay. I glance at my watch…. “He should be home soon.”

I walk out into the living room, panic, and walk back into the kitchen.

“Okay, just….” I wave my hands around. “Just act casual.” I walk back out into the living room and then back into the kitchen. “It’s just Valentino.” That is exactly my point.

It’s fucking Valentino.

I hear the door and I screw up my face, he’s home.

Act busy!

I bend and open the oven door and peer in, I’m trying to give my best heavenly homemaker vibes, please don’t burn.

“Well…. Hello,” a deep voice sounds from the door; I glance up to see Valentino leaning on the doorjamb watching me.

“Hi.” I smile.

“Anna.” His eyes dance with darkness and his tongue runs over his bottom lip. “Finding you in my kitchen cooking dinner is a major fucking turn-on.”

My heart flutters. “Hi.”

He slides his hands around my waist and drops them to my behind, his lips take mine as he pulls me onto his waiting erection. “Hi.”

I pull out of his grip, tonight is about more than orgasms, I’m determined.

Platonic, non-naked fun.

“Dinner’s nearly ready,” I tell him.

“Okay.” He looks around. “Do you need anything?”

“Just a hug from my man.”

He breaks into a broad and beautiful smile as he takes me into his arms. “That…. I can do.”

Forty minutes later.

I cut into my chicken. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Yeah.” He chews. “Of course.”

“Have you been seeing anyone?” I ask. “Before me, like….” I shrug.

“Nobody special.”

“Nobody regular?”