So, yeah, my stomach is full of butterflies and my pulse is pounding through my veins.
At least my morning sickness is pretty much a thing of the past at this point and I don’t have to worry about puking up what will hopefully be delicious food.
No. What will be delicious food.
Because we’re going to Bella Nonna.
The grandmother who founded it is retired now, but she still makes an appearance in the kitchen every once in a while, and tonight Leo somehow got us tickets to one of those rare times.
We’ll get to have her tasting menu and even if I won’t get to have more than a tiny taste of her wine pairings (sip and spit for the win), I’m looking forward to it, maybe more than anything.
I was thinking of the food.
Five minutes later, I realize I should have been looking forward to Leo.
As in, Leo appearing on my porch in a suit, looking beyond delectable.
The way he fills out the deep blue slacks and jacket, the crisp white shirt? Delicious. As is the tie I want to wrap around my hand and use to yank him toward me so I can kiss him senseless.
“God, baby,” he rumbles. “You look incredible.”
I manage to resist the urge to draw him inside and do things that will definitely make us miss Nonna’s dinner, and say, “You clean up nice yourself.”
His mouth hitches up. “I like the dress.”
I smooth my hand down my front again. “It’s a little tight.” I struggled to get the zipper up, though thankfully, the waistline is forgiving, floating over my belly. “But none of my pants, aside from sweats, can button and I’m not attending one of Nonna’s famous dinners in sweatpants.”
“I can’t say I’m disappointed in this particular outcome,” he murmurs, his eyes lingering on my chest.
My stomach flutters, but he doesn’t give me a chance to respond, just snags my purse and light sweater from the table and holds up the latter for me to slip my arms into.
The day has been warm, but there’s a hint of coolness in the air.
I take my purse, lock up.
Then Leo is wrapping an arm around my middle, guiding me down the sidewalk to his car.
He makes me laugh as he opens my door, buckles my seat belt (God, why is it so sweet when he does that?), and our conversation continues without effort for the entire drive to Nonna’s.
It’s easy.
Natural.
Exactly like our night together all those months ago.
Only this one is going to end differently.
Because, in my heart, I know Leo is going to be there beside me when I wake up in the morning.
Thirty
Leo
“Oh, my God,” Harper moans as she forks up the last of the chocolate soufflé.
My dick twitches again.
For the hundredth time tonight.
