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I pulled up to the house and shut off the engine, noticing that Tony’s place was dark since he had taken off for work earlier. I felt bad not sharing the pizza with him since he’d helped so much, but maybe I could also use him as an excuse to get the next one. Either way, I had to make it up to him somehow. As I got inside, I eagerly went into the kitchen to grab a plate and put the box down on the coffee table in the living room.
Grabbing the remote, I turned on the TV and flipped through a couple of channels, looking for something satisfying to watch while I ate. Thankfully, I stumbled onto a pro wrestling program and stopped. I used to be a big fan back in the day, and I figured I would give the new stuff a shot while I ate.
Twenty minutes later, I had a full stomach and a new destination show to watch on Wednesday nights. The pizza was incredible. Every bit as glorious as Tony had intimated that it was, and I ended up eating most of it in one sitting. I’d probably feel it in the morning, but I couldn’t help it. Each bite was somehow better than the last.
With dinner over, I put the leftovers in the refrigerator, put my plate in the dishwasher, and went rummaging through the boxes in the bedroom. Tony had helped me put the bed together, but it still didn’t have any sheets or anything on it. When I finally found them, I made the bed and piled the pillows on, then headed for the shower.
Once I was out, feeling fresh and clean, I brushed my teeth and went into the kitchen. I yawned as I filled a glass with water from the fridge, another luxury that was new to me.
I brought the glass into the bedroom, taking one big sip before setting it down on the nightstand and flipping off the light. I crawled into bed, setting my alarm to wake me up at nine, knowing full well my internal clock was going to wake me up at seven thirty anyway, and tried to settle into sleep, with little luck.
I couldn’t stop thinking about Sofia as my mind relaxed. The curve of her smile, the dancing light in her eyes, it was all so enticing. If I was honest with myself, the curve of her body was incredible and not a small part of what attracted me to her.
I had glanced down to see the name tag and let my eyes stay there for just a moment. It was all I had needed to be able to close my eyes now and bring the memory back. A full, heavy breast was under that name tag, adding to the curvy shape of her body. She had mentioned she liked heat, and the only thing I could think about was how much fire we could spark between the two of us.
Relaxing into the pillow, I let the images of her float over my mind and found myself rock hard thinking about her. Imagining the way her skin would feel under my fingertips. The weight of her breasts and the way her nipples would feel in my palms. How warm she would be if I could press her against me. How soft her lips would be if I could press them against mine.
I was surprised by how intense the images were, and the fire they ignited within me provided the perfect backdrop for a dream. .
5
SOFIA
“It’s feeling much better, thank you,” I said for the second time already that morning.
I should probably feel flattered that both Amara and Leo asked about my hand two days in a row, but now on the fifth day, it was starting to feel like they were poking fun at me. Granted, the first two days, it really did hurt a fair amount, and it earned me some light duty for the day. Now, however, I was right back to being in the trenches, and that meant being sous chef for lunch later.
Being the first of the cooks to enter the kitchen meant it was on me to start the pasta and make sure the mise en place was done. Usually, that would be Leo’s job, but I hated how slow and inaccurate his knife skills were and planned on going about it myself if I could beat him into the kitchen. Currently, he was busy fiddling on his phone outside, waiting for a delivery.
I passed him and went into the kitchen, diving headlong into work and getting things set up for lunch service. It was still my belief that we could do really good business if we opened for breakfast, but Papa was against it from the jump. He said people should have breakfast at home and eat pasta for lunch. Mama used to make him enormous breakfasts when I was little, and now that she was gone, he did them himself. Us girls tried to help, but as usual with Papa and a kitchen, he was the one in charge.
