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“Not everything.” Gavin took another bite. “This might be the best thing anyone’s made for me in a long time.”

The simple honesty in his voice caught Dom off guard, and he looked at the sandwich on his plate. “My mother taught me just about everything I know. Sunday dinner was a whole production in my family. If you stood around too long, somebody put you to work.”

Gavin looked up from his sandwich. “You have siblings?”

“Four. All older. Nico and Giulia are twins. They’re thirty-one.” Dom licked balsamic glaze off his thumb. “Then there’s Dante, who’s thirty, and Sofia, who is twenty-eight. Nico and Dante figured out early that if they burned something, they’d never be asked to help again. Giulia and Sofia still fight over who makes better sauce. I was the baby, so I got to chop the garlic and get bossed around.”

“Sounds like an education.”

“It was a hazing.” Dom nudged Gavin’s knee with his own. “What about you? Any siblings?”

“Only child.” Gavin rotated his plate a quarter turn. “My parents tried for ten years before they got me. I don’t think they had it in them to try for a second.”

Gavin cleared his throat and looked over at Dom. “So your bossiness in the kitchen is genetic then?” He laughed at the disgruntled look Dom shot him.

“I gave you one job.”

“And then criticized how I retrieved the equipment I needed to do it.”

“You used getting a knife as an excuse to feel me up,” Dom pointed out. He took another bite of his sandwich and smiled while chewing.

“Okay, I didn’t feel you up,” Gavin protested. “I pressed against your back.”

“With your entire body.”

Gavin shrugged. “I’m a big boy.”

Dom had noticed. At six-two, he wasn’t used to anyone making him feel small, but Gavin had at least two inches on him and enough width through his chest and shoulders to manage it. Having all that solid warmth pressed against his back had been embarrassingly effective at making him incapable of thinking.

He cleared his throat. “You could have just said you wanted to touch me.”

Gavin paused with his sandwich halfway to his mouth. “I thought I’d made that pretty obvious.”

“You did.” Dom put his own sandwich down. His face burned, but he held Gavin’s gaze. “I’m not complaining. I liked having you against me.”

Gavin slowly lowered his hand and placed his lunch on the plate. “That’s a dangerous thing to admit while we’re sitting this close.”

“You’re the one who took a shortcut so you could feel me up.”

“And you’re the one making it difficult to remember we’re supposed to be eating lunch.”

Gavin’s attention had dropped to his mouth, and suddenly, the food didn’t seem important. Dom could lean across the narrow space between their stools and kiss him.

He picked up his sandwich instead. “Eat.”

Gavin’s mouth curved up. “Coward.”

“I’m hungry.” Dom took another bite of his sandwich.

“Both can be true.”

Before Dom could answer, Gavin’s hand settled on his knee beneath the island. His palm was warm and broad, covering most of it, and his pinky moved once along the inside seam of Dom’s jeans. Dom nearly dropped his sandwich. Gavin took an innocent bite of his own.

“You’re doing that on purpose,” Dom said.

“Doing what?” But Gavin squeezed his knee lightly before releasing it and reaching for his water. Dom immediately missed the weight of his hand.

He cleared his throat and stood. “I think I’m done.”