“You don’t have to cook, baby. It’s late.”
“I don’t mind,” I said as I slipped my feet into my sandals. “Not like I’m going to be able to sleep anyway.”
He grinned. “I like the sound of that.” When I walked past him to the door, he gave my ass a playful smack.
We headed downstairs to the kitchen on the bottom floor. The staff lived in separate quarters on the property, about half a mile down one of the dirt roads, so they could have privacy away from the main villa.
I flicked on the light and stepped into the enormous kitchen with multiple stoves and sinks and fridges, intentionally designed to feed a lot of people all the time.
Wolfe leaned against the counter and crossed his arms over his chest, tattooed perfection, his hair a little messy from the way I fingered it when we were in bed together. He watched me move about the kitchen and prepare something for us to eat.
“How does carbonara sound?” We had everything to whip it together.
“Fuck yeah,” he said. “How can I help?”
“You can grate the cheese.”
“Yes, boss.” He grinned like he knew that was going to get under my skin—and he liked it.
I rolled my eyes as I grabbed the big pot and filled it with water and salt. “You’re really going to call me that?”
“I can call you whatever I want.”
“Well, when it’s just the two of us, I feel like you’re the boss, not me.”
He grabbed the cheese from the counter and started to grate it. “Nope. You’re always in charge—even when it doesn’t seem like it.”
I picked up the pasta from the counter and added it to the water when it started to boil.
He grabbed the plates, utensils, and linens before he stepped away. “Going to snag a bottle from the wine cellar.” He gave my ass a smack before he walked out and disappeared.
I gathered the eggs and other ingredients and mixed them together, so they would be ready to add to the pasta once it was finished. When the timer went off, I drained the noodles and mixed the sauce with them.
Wolfe returned a moment later with a bottle in hand. He uncorked it on the counter and poured two glasses.
I finished up the meal and plated it before I sprinkled extra cheese on top.
“Damn, that smells good.” He grabbed everything he could carry and took it outside to the terrace. It was a warm evening during the hottest days of summer, so it felt nice outside. He flicked on the lights that hung overhead, and it felt like we had a private restaurant all to ourselves.
We sat across from each other and ate our dinner, the world quiet except for the crickets in the field. Wolfe inhaled his food like he usually did and dug his hand into the bread basket in the center. I’d found some leftover bread from earlier that day, and it still tasted fresh. The exterior had a nice crunch to it, which was how I preferred my bread anyway.
Once he’d eaten half of his plate, his hunger abated, and he looked at me across the table, elbows resting on the surface. His eyes moved to my left hand and stared at the ring he’d given me. “Looks good on you.”
“You meanyoulook good on me.”
He smirked as he chewed his food and gave a nod. After he swallowed, he said, “Yep.”
“When did you get the ring?”
“A while ago.”
“What’s a while?”
“When we moved to Palermo and you tried to tell me you loved me, but I said it first.”
I remembered that night. With that single conversation, it felt as if our lives had changed.
“I felt like that was the moment our life together began.”
