I’m grateful for his assistance. However, I’m still confused. “Tuesday? Why are you coming over on Tuesday?”
“Ah…” His jaw hangs long enough for the referee to announce the commencement of Maddox’s fight without interference. “It’s the only day I have free. Thought I’d help a girl out.” He pivots me to face Maddox prancing around the ring before muttering, “How about you coach your boy. The crap you ate at lunch will make him a little slow off the mark.”
I’m not going to ask how he knows what we ate. Maddox spent the thirty minutes before his fight warming up while glaring at Rocco, so there’s no uncertainty in my mind that he didn’t update him on what we ate for lunch.
Rocco is a snoop, and I’m reasonably sure I know who he’s snooping for.
Dimitri became more family-orientated a couple of months back. Not enough to give me the full pardon I’m seeking, but sufficient for him to stick his nose where it isn’t wanted.
“Come on, Maddox. It’s late, the restaurant is almost empty…”And I know the perfect recipe that will suffocate your urge to have a panic attack when I tell you we may have created more than fireworks the past six-plus weeks.“My uncle is in Europe. He can’t come back in an hour.” When pleading doesn’t work, I remind him of the fantastic day we had, which grew even better when he took down his opponent in the second round. Although the loser’s ‘owner’ refused to hand over the money he lost when he placed his fighter against Maddox, it was a lot of fun seeing Maddox in his element. It reminded me he isn’t as saintly as his brother’s nickname and that the Walsh brothers have a reputation for a reason. “It’s my birthday. I want to cook for my boyfriend in my favorite restaurant for my birthday.”
“Jesus fucking Christ, Demi. When you say it like that, how can I say no?”
I scoop his hand that should be more battered than it is into mine before replying, “Don’t say no. Say yes. I’ll make it up to you. Remember that kiss we almost shared in here? It won’t be an almost anymore.”
“Bribing me with sex. I should have known.” While smiling to assure me his tone has no malice whatsoever, he leads me into the back entrance of Petretti’s.
A sense of coming home filters through me when the sound of overworked staff booms in my ears, and the sweet smell of tomatoes and garlic lingers in my nose. My dad loved this place. That alone means I’ll never see it in a negative light.
“Demi!” Ty wraps me up in a hug before half my name leaves his mouth. “Where the fuck have you been? We thought you had dropped off the face of the earth.” He stops, arches his brow, drags his eyes up and down Maddox’s body three times in slow motion, then whistles air between his teeth. “Can’t say I blame you.” He twists his torso to face Jude, who’s preparing the last of the meals. “What did I tell you, Jude? If only he were gay.”
Jude doesn’t deny Ty’s claims. He just shifts the focus by asking if we are here to eat.
“I was hoping I could whip something up for old time’s sake. If that’s okay, of course?”
“Sure, it is. This kitchen was yours long before it was mine.” He nudges his head to the industrial fridge. “Fresh snails just arrived. From what I’ve heard, they were a fan favorite.”
I laugh at both Jude’s witty comment and Maddox’s screwed up face. “Thank you. We will stay out of your way as much as possible.”
When I twist to face Maddox, I can’t wipe the smile off my face. In a weird way, today has been almost an exact replica of what I envisioned my life would be once I left this place, except it’s occurring here, in the last place I thought possible. “Anything in particular you feel like eating?” I smile wider when his sultry grin answers my question on his behalf. “You can havethatlater, for now…”
“What about that dish you whipped up almost two months ago?” Maddox fills in when I leave my reply hanging wide open. “The Maddox special.”
“Okay,” I mumble while wracking my brain to remember exactly what I put in his dish that night. I went all out, hoping to impress him even when it should have been the last thing on my mind. “One Maddox special coming right up.”
I don’t even make it two steps away when Maddox seizes my wrist and tugs me back. “If I recall correctly, it’syourbirthday, right?”
“That it is,” I reply, even knowing too well he’s aware today is my birthday.
Tears mist my eyes when he says, “Then aren’tIsupposed to cook foryou?”
Torn between smiling in excitement and cringing with worry, I ask, “Under my guidance?”
“Of course,” Maddox replies as he paces us toward the large industrial refrigerator he crowded me against all those weeks ago. “I don’t want you dying on me.”
Manymanyhours later, I breathe through the ache of an overstuffed stomach while dragging my tongue across my suddenly bone-dry mouth. Maddox and I cooked, flirted, and ate more carbohydrates than I’ve consumed in my life, then we washed up like a regular, everyday couple.
It was only when Maddox handed me the final dish to dry did the simplicity of my life the past six weeks smack into me hard and fast. I’ve craved this very thing for so long, knowing my every wish had been granted saw me muttering three little words I never thought I’d say to anyone. You can love in my family industry, but you mustneveropenly express it
But I did.
I declared my love out loud for the world to hear.
And for once, not an ounce of fear encroached me. It actually felt relieving, which is stupid when you truly think about it. We’ve been together almost twenty-four-seven for over six weeks, and we dealt with the good and bad within the first three days of our relationship, so telling Maddox I love him was the next logical step.
I’m pleased as hell to tell you he responded better than hoped. He didn’t immediately say it back. He whipped my backside with a damp tea towel, made a remark about how hard I made him work for it, then he pinned me to the fridge that tried to commence my downfall weeks ago before he kissed the living hell out of me.
Only once he had me on the brink of climax did he say it back—multiple times. In my ear, along my collarbone, and as he trekked his succulent, kiss-swollen lips over the thrusting curves of my breasts. He even says it now while kneeling before me, drinking in the damp panties his last five minutes of attention caused.
