As the lunch rush slowed, Cesare’s phone rang again, but this time it was from a second phone. He answered it immediately. “I’ve got to take this one outside.” He informed her, briefly brushing the side of her arm. His thumb brushed a small circle across her skin that made everything in her nervous system hone in on the sensation and turn into goo.
“I’ll be back.” He promised, withdrawing the light touch as he walked past Sabrina, then exited through the side door.
Marie leaned in. “You’ve got it bad.” She grinned.
Sabrina groaned. “I am so touch-starved it's dangerous.”
Marie let out a low chuckle. “Honey.” Her Tennessee drawl thickened. “You have a problem, and I’m looking at the solution.” She nodded her head towards the hunk of a man standing outside the side patio door, slowly pacing as he spoke on the phone. “That man is climbable as he is fuckable, and he can’t keep his eyes off of you.”
Sabrina bit her lip, just as Cesare looked back inside; his eyes meeting hers through the window. He gave her a slight smile as he turned around to pace once more, gesturing with his hands as he spoke.
“He talks like an Italian.” Sabrina observed with a smile.
“He walks like an Italian.” Marie answered with an insinuating lilt in her tone.
“What's that supposed to mean?” Sabrina arched a brow.
“He walks like he’s packing heat.” Marie gave Sabrina a knowing look.
“You think he’s armed?” Sabrina raised a brow. “Just because he's Italian doesn’t mean he’s Al Capone.”
“That too.” Marie snorted. “But no, I said what I said because he walks like he’swell endowed, sugar.”
Sabrina went red and started cleaning up the workstation, wiping down the counter as thoroughly as she could as Marie looked on in amusement.
Cesare walked back through the side door and approached the counter as the last customers left through the front. “My driver is going to be here in a few minutes. What else can I do before I leave?”
Marie pressed a bakery box with six cinnamon rolls into Sabrina’s hands as she walked towards the back. “I’m going to check the refrigerator temps.” She drawled. “Thank you for your help, Cesare. I hope to see more of you.”
“It was my pleasure.” Cesare grinned, his eyes turning to rest on Sabrina.
Sabrina came out from behind the counter, feeling the air thicken with the same delicious tension as earlier. They were now alone in the silent cafe, and a sense of calm settled over her.
Cesare’s eyes darkened as he made no attempt to hide his enjoyment; watching the sway of her body as she walked towards him.
She walked into his arms as they opened to her, and she gave a shy giggle that sounded carefree and girlish to her own ears.
“You’re going to squish the cinnamon rolls.” She shook her head ruefully, her eyes looking directly ahead at the bronze skin of his chest, just peeking through the unbuttoned bit of his shirt.
“Mmm.” His chest rumbled. “Can’t have that, can we?”
Sabrina looked up at him, shaking her head slowly, feeling inexplicably soft.
Cesare muttered something lowly in Italian and tightened his arms around her hips, leaning down to kiss her on her cheek. He pulled back just enough to meet her waiting gaze. His tone was soft and booked no room for argument. “I am going to pick you up tomorrow at six and take you somewhere nice, and we’re going to have fun. And at the end of the night, I’m going to walk you to your door and kiss this beautiful mouth of yours. What do you think of that, Sabrina?”
Sabrina blinked and did her best not to stutter. “I would be amenable to your proposal so long as certain requirements are met.” Sabrina’s eyes twinkled as she pulled back to better look at him.
“Tell me about these requirements.” He muttered, tightening his grip on her hips.
“A, you need to make me laugh.” She smiled.
“Done. Next?” Cesare asked with a roguish grin.
“B, you need to keep me safe.” She raised a brow.
“Is there someone I need to keep you safe from?” He asked.
Sabrina shrugged ruefully. “No, but I have a tendency to attract uncontrollable plot twists.”
