I take another bite, trying to hold back a groan. It’s so good, it’s like an orgasm in my mouth. As I watch Nic take a bite, his strong jaw flexing as he chews, I can only hope it’s not the only orgasm I’ll be experiencing tonight.
“So, you figured I’m the kind of guy who orders takeout and tries to pass it off as his own cooking?” he asks, smirking.
“That’s what every other guy I’ve dated has done. So, yeah, pretty much.” I laugh. “How did you learn to make this?”
“I’ve always loved cooking,” he says after taking a sip of his water. “My grandmother loved to cook and so does my mother, and I spent a lot of time in the kitchen with them when I was younger.”
“Are you really Italian?” I ask.
He nods. “My name is actually Nicco, but no one calls me that except for my mother.”
Once again, I’m blown away by Nic. Everything about this date is so romantic—the candlelight, the city views, and the amazing food. And not to mention Nic himself, who looks about as good as his pasta tastes.
His dark, messy hair is blowing gently in the breeze. His biceps flex as he runs a hand through his hair, and I bite my lip. I can tell he hits the gym more than the average guy, and I can’t stop myself from imagining him putting those muscles to use in the bedroom. An image of him lifting me up against a wall during a hot make-out session flashes through my mind, and I feel my face heat up.
“Have you told Christine that we’ve been hanging out?” he asks, bringing me back to reality. He says it casually, but I sense something urgent in his tone.
“I haven’t had much of a chance to talk to her,” I say, then swallow. “Mostly just about the wedding and her honeymoon.”
I hate lying, but I’m definitely not going to tell him what she said about him. Or that she’s been practically begging me to stop seeing him.
“Makes sense.” He smiles and nods, seeming relieved.
I can’t shake the feeling that there’s something those two aren’t telling me, but I try to forget about it. I’m probably just paranoid because of everything Christine has said about him.
“So, what do you do in your free time? Besides cook gourmet meals and put together romantic dinners.” I smile, wanting him to go along with changing the subject. The less we talk about Christine, the better, in my opinion. I don’t need the reminder of her warnings about Nic ruining an otherwise perfect evening.
He laughs. “I love spending time outdoors, camping and hiking. I haven’t traveled much, but I want to. We could never afford it growing up, and now that I actually have money, I don’t have the time.”
“I would love to travel more. I wanted to study abroad in college, but I chickened out.”
“So, you’ve never been out of the country either?” he asks.
I shake my head. “If you could leave right now, where would you go?”
“I definitely would love to visit Italy. My family is from Florence, and I’ve always wanted to do a backpacking trip through Europe.” He laughs. “But I might be too old for that now.”
“No way, you’re never too old to travel,” I say, taking another bite of gnocchi. “That sounds perfect to me.”
“Should we make another pact?” He gives me a playful smile. “That we’ll travel to Europe within the next year?”
I grin back. “Let’s do it.”
The thought of sipping wine in a vineyard in Italy or lying on a beach in the south of France with Nic is way too tempting. The idea of Nic in a bathing suit alone is making me feel hot and bothered.
It’s so easy to picture a future with him, and I hope I’m not getting ahead of myself. I’m always so careful with my feelings, and suddenly with Nic, I’m throwing caution to the wind. I just hope our connection is as real as I think it is.
As we finish the last of our food, a cool fall breeze blows by, making me shiver.
“Should we head inside? It gets a little breezy up here,” Nic says, standing to clear our plates.
I follow him back inside, where he gestures for me to sit on the couch as he takes our plates into the kitchen. When he comes back, he’s holding two plates of dessert.
I raise an eyebrow. “You can bake too? I think I might be in love with you.”
As soon as I say it, my face turns red. I may be totally smitten with him, but I don’t want to come on too strong, too fast.
Luckily, he just laughs, setting down the plates. “This is my real specialty,” he says, handing me a fork.
I’m so full, I definitely have a food baby, but I can’t resist trying Nic’s dessert. Especially after how good the main course was.
“Oh my God,” I say loudly after my first taste. “What is that?”
“Limoncello tiramisu.” He laughs as I dive in for another bite.
“You sure know the way to a girl’s heart—and to her hips.” I grin.
“I’m just happy I’m finally dating a girl who actually eats,” he says, then takes a bite himself. “There’s nothing worse than cooking for someone who doesn’t enjoy food.”
“Well, you’ll never have that problem with me,” I say with a snort. “I think I’m going to become obese if we keep hanging out.”
“You’d look beautiful no matter what,” he says, smiling at me.
I glance up at him quickly, my heartbeat speeding up. How does he always know the perfect thing to say?
He looks so good, and he’s sitting so close to me on the couch that I’m having a hard time resisting reaching over and pulling him on top of me. I watch him carry our empty dessert plates back into the kitchen, admiring the muscles in his broad shoulders.
He walks back and sits even closer to me on the couch, bringing me a fresh glass of sparkling water.
I hope this is the moment we can finally finish what we started a week ago. And if he’s even half as good in the bedroom as he is in the kitchen, I’m pretty sure I’m in for a wild night.
“I feel like you’re too good to be true,” I say, sipping my drink.
“Trust me, I’m far from perfect.” He smiles, looking down. “It’s me who’s lucky to be with you.”
“Well, if you’re expecting elaborate homemade dinners from me, you might be disappointed. I love to cook, but I’ve never made anything like that before.”
“I don’t know,” he says. “If I’ve learned anything about you, it’s that you’re way too humble, and you always bring the unexpected.”
“It’s funny, that’s exactly how I feel about you,” I say quietly, looking into his warm brown eyes.
He leans forward on the couch, and I scoot in closer to him so our legs are touching. Before I know it, our breaths are mingling and his hand is resting against the back of my neck.
“Gonna kiss you now,” he murmurs, his lips almost touching mine.
I make a wordless sound of agreement, and then his mouth meets mine in an urgent kiss. We’ve been building toward this moment all night. All the laughing and smiles and shared glances have turned into something much hotter and needier than either of us are sure what to do with—other than finish what we started.