Total pages in book: 57
Estimated words: 54886 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 274(@200wpm)___ 220(@250wpm)___ 183(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 54886 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 274(@200wpm)___ 220(@250wpm)___ 183(@300wpm)
“Rosie, meet Franco. Best Italian food in the city.”
He beamed, lifting her hand and kissing it. She smiled, and he looked at me. “What a beauty. Come. I have the best table, and I will cook for you myself.”
We slipped into a circular booth, and without asking, a bottle of my favorite red appeared with two glasses. A plate of warm focaccia and a bowl of the most beautiful olive oil was added for dipping. The bread was studded with sun-dried tomatoes, rosemary, and pink salt. A bowl of mixed olives and thinly shaved slices of parmesan accompanied it.
Rosie looked around in curiosity. The wood walls and beams gave the place an exceptional ambiance. Candles and low lighting made it feel warm. The seats were comfortable and the place not overly crowded. Our spot in the corner was intimate, the small booth set back, giving us privacy.
“I love this place,” Rosie said quietly.
“It was my mother’s favorite spot. We came often. It’s been family-run since the day it opened.”
“And it’s still here,” she marveled.
“Great food. An amazing wine cellar.” I picked up a piece of focaccia and dipped it in the olive oil, the subtle flavor of the oil bursting on my tongue. I pressed another piece to Rosie’s lips. “You have to try this.”
She took a bite and chewed, closing her eyes and humming at the taste. “That’s incredible.”
“I know.”
She picked up her own piece, dipping it as I had, then added a sliver of the cheese. “Oh my God,” she hummed.
She was sexy as she shut her eyes, chewing slowly, savoring the flavor. She smiled as she swallowed. “I’m going to move in to the kitchen.”
I chuckled. “Franco would probably let you.”
“So your mom brought you here?”
“We used to come as a family. After she died, we stopped, but I would beg the nanny of the month to bring me here. Suzy and I loved the place. When they fell on hard times, I bought it, gifted it back to them, and I make sure they will never have to sell. My mother loved it. I refuse to let it go.”
“Like Zoles.”
“Yes, but this place is personal. It has nothing but positive memories. I won’t let that fade away.”
She leaned over and kissed me, her lips soft and warm on mine. “I love your sentimental heart, Asher.”
“My father felt it was a weakness.”
“No, it’s your greatest strength.”
I kissed her back, needing her touch. “Thank you.”
She beamed. “Anytime.”
Rosie oohed and aahed over every dish. Protested she was full, yet her eyes lit up when the next round would appear. I had told Franco to go all out and I wanted leftovers. It would ensure Rosie and AJ ate well for the next couple of days. I noted the stuffed shells and chicken piccata were her favorites. The risotto was a huge hit, but we ate all of it, Rosie cleaning her plate with more focaccia. Finally, she sat back. “No more. I will burst out of this dress.”
“No objections here.” I waggled my eyebrows at her, and she laughed.
“One-track mind.”
“When it comes to you, yes.”
Franco presented some Italian cookies and espresso, along with small glasses of amaretto. We relaxed and enjoyed the ambiance and the quiet. I liked that I didn’t have to fill in the silence with chatter. The quiet between us was comfortable.
“Do you have plans this weekend?” I asked.
She shook her head, swallowing her mouthful of cookie. “Working a little on the help desk. Probably sledding. Some errands.”
I took in a deep breath. “Would you consider taking the weekend off and you and AJ come to the condo for the weekend? There’s a great park not far from me. We can sled there. Skating too.” I paused. “The three of us spending some time. I’ll take you back on Sunday.”
She placed her cup in the saucer carefully. “Where will AJ sleep?”
“In the guest room.”
“And me?”
“With me in my room. His room would be right down the hall.”
“That’s a big step, Asher.”
I tilted my head, studying her. “Every step we take is big, Rosie. We don’t seem to have a small one in our roster.”
“Does that worry you?”
“Not a bit.”
“Okay.”
“Great. I’ll pick you up Friday after work.”
“I thought you said the weekend. As in Saturday and Sunday.”
“The weekend includes Friday night, Rosie. I’m sure most of the world would agree with me.”
“So, two nights, then?”
“Yes.”
“I assume you expect to get lucky?”
I chuckled. “I am lucky if you agree to this.”
“You know what I mean.”
I slid closer to her in the round booth. Glided my hand up her arm, over her shoulder, and wrapped my fingers around the nape of her neck. She shivered at my touch. I pulled her close and kissed her. “You, me, in my bed, so when you leave, the sheets smell like you? Like us? Yes, I want to get lucky. I want to hold you all night and wake up with you beside me. I want to make love to you in a big, comfortable bed. I want you to like it so much that you come back. A lot.”