Page 34 of Dirty Letters


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“No, nothing like that.”

“Too bad.” He winked.

Suddenly, the housekeeper led a bunch of people through the living room into the adjacent dining room.

“Ah. Dinner’s here,” Griffin said.

I put my wine down on an end table and followed him into the dining area. A full staff of people were setting up a grand table. One gentleman carried a gigantic covered silver platter.

“This looks like a meal fit for a king,” I said.

When the man took the top off the platter, my stomach sank. It wasn’t just pork but an entire pig with the head still on it. I looked away. I couldn’t stomach it. It was like watching Hortencia burned at the stake and laid out at her funeral.

Griffin’s eyes were practically bugging out of his head. His cool stance was no longer. He turned to the man. “What the fuck! I ordered the pork, not an entire animal. What the hell are you bringing into my house? It’s disturbing. Please cover it up and take it back.”

The man hurriedly did as he said but asked, “What did you think pork was, sir?”

“I get what you’re saying, but there’s no need to see my dinner staring back at me.” He looked over at me. “Clearly you can see my guest is extremely upset.”

I was shaking. Honestly, I didn’t even know what to say anymore.

After the room emptied out, Griffin rushed over to me. “Are you okay?”

“That was . . . that was unexpected.”

“Fuck. I was just having a little fun in ordering the pork. I knew you wouldn’t eat it. I would never have done that to you on purpose. I know how much she means to you.”

Wait.

What?

What’s happening?

He placed his hands around my face. “You look like you’re about to cry. I’ve fucked this all up. I would never want to hurt you like that. You mean so fucking much to me.” He backed me up against the wall, pressing his rock-hard body against mine. “Luca . . . my beautiful Luca.”

My voice was shaky. “Griffin?”

“How did you find me, my impulsive girl?” He shook his head. “Never mind. Don’t answer that yet.”

He leaned in and smashed his lips against mine, kissing me so hard, I was practically seeing stars. My entire body felt weightless as I melted into him, our tongues colliding in a wet and delicious frenzy as we made up for years of lost kisses.

“Goddamn, Luca, you taste so good,” he muttered over my lips. “I feel like I’ve been waiting my whole life for this.”

Raking my fingers in his lustrous hair, I couldn’t help the sounds that were coming out of my mouth. No one had ever kissed me the way Griffin Marchese was doing right now. Breathing him in like this was everything I’d ever dreamed of.

Our kiss was interrupted when the housekeeper entered carrying three large pizza boxes.

Feeling like an animal in heat, I panted and asked, “What’s that?”

“Our real dinner. Pineapple pizza—your favorite.”

A feeling of nostalgia warmed over me. “You remembered.”

“How could I forget? I remember everything, Luca.”“Tell me what you’re thinking right now.”

I blinked a few times and my vision came back into focus. I’d been staring down at a slice of pineapple pizza and when I looked up, I found Griffin watching me. I’d heard him speak, but the words seemed to have swooped in one ear and bolted out the other. “I’m sorry. What did you say?”

He stood. We’d been sitting across from each other at the dining room table. Today had been surreal—from finding out Griffin was Cole Archer, to seeing him for the first time after all these years, to that kiss. That kiss. Griffin extended his hand. “Come on. You have too much on your mind to eat right now. Why don’t we go sit in the living room and talk?”

I nodded and put my hand in his. He led me over to the massive sectional, and when I sat, he knelt down in front of me and slipped off my heels one at a time. “I’m taking these off so that you’re comfortable, but I also have an ulterior motive. I’m going to get us some more wine from the kitchen, and I’m going to keep one of these with me so you can’t bolt out the door while I’m gone for two minutes.”

I thought he was joking, but he actually took one of my shoes with him. He returned a few minutes later carrying two fresh glasses of wine and my high heel.

“Nottingham Cellars cab.” Griff extended a glass of my favorite wine. The thing was full to the brim. “I wasn’t sure what year you liked so I got a few different ones. This is the 2014. Which do you usually buy?”

“Um. Whichever one is the cheapest.”

“Shit. I went in the other direction.”

I smiled. “It’s fine. I’m not really a wine aficionado, so I doubt I’d be able to tell one year from the next.”

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