After another minute, I slowly ease her down and pull back. I have to, because as much fun as this is, knowing it’s heading nowhere is fucking torture. My poor cock is furious at the deprivation at this point, so close, yet so far away from paradise.
There’s desire in her eyes, too. I smile tenderly, brushing my thumb along her cheek. “Well, happy anniversary to you, too.”
Francesca smiles shyly, which strikes me as particularly amusing. “It was a little happier before I met Vivian.”
“Who?”
Rolling her eyes, she whacks me in the stomach with her hand. “Don’t be cute.”
“Can’t help it; I was born this way.”
Now she cocks her head, decidedly unimpressed. Well, she’s pretending to be unimpressed, at least.
“Sorry about that,” I add, more seriously. “She just showed up.”
“Do women often just show up on your doorstep?”
“Almost never, actually. I didn’t want to say anything, there was never any reason to, but someone I know spotted us in New York and mentioned to my dad he saw me. I tossed out a name to explain it away, hers was the first that popped in my head… that was it. But then my ma’s been hit hard with grandbaby fever lately, and apparently an associate of ours creeps on some selfie paradise she posts in. Long story short, Ma started talking to her. Ma asked me to come to dinner tonight and I said I had plans with her… news traveled fast, I guess.”
“And she showed up for a dinner she knew she wasn’t invited to?” she asks, cocking an eyebrow.
I don’t have to feign sheepishness. “I assume it was just an excuse to come see me.”
Narrowing her eyes, she says, “You have to stop being so sexy. Go ahead. Right now. I’ll wait.”
“How ‘bout I keep being sexy because I’m all yours and it doesn’t matter?” I suggest.
“She was really pretty,” Francesca states.
Smirking lightly, I toss back, “Trust me, she knows.”
“You’re still technically single, aren’t you?” Her tone is level, but she says this like it’s something she just now realized. We know we’re in a relationship, but obviously I can’t broadcast the news. Especially because after a month, I’d be in the tail end of a normal relationship, just around the corner from being single again.
“Of course I’m not. Most people just don’t know that.”
“Do a lot of girls… I mean—”
“Nope.” I interrupt, shaking my head. “We don’t have to do this. It doesn’t matter what the world thinks, Francesca. You know that. An entire squad of NFL cheerleaders could show up on my front porch every morning and I’d send ‘em all on their way.” Securing my arms around her waist, I tug her against me. “I only want you. You know that.”
“I do know that,” she admits, glancing down as she rests one hand on my shoulder, the other on my chest. “That just threw me for a minute.”
“You thought Island Salvatore was here.”
Reluctantly smiling, she shakes her head. “Sorry.”
I shrug my shoulders, not taking my eyes off her. “Nothing to apologize for.”
“It’s not my favorite thing that my boyfriend is technically single.”
I can’t help smiling at her. “That’s the first time you’ve called me that.”
Francesca grins. “You should’ve heard what I was calling you in my head a few minutes ago.”
Now that makes me fucking laugh. “Bad?”
“Oh yeah. My Morelli temper was just below the surface. I thought I got bamboozled again for a minute. It wasn’t gonna be pretty.”
“I didn’t think I’d ever have cause to use the word bamboozle, but I promise never to bamboozle you.”
“I know.” She leans into me, giving me a soft little kiss. “I’m sorry I doubted you.”
I drop a light kiss to her lips. “You’re forgiven.” I take a step back, reaching down to lace my fingers between hers. “Now, I know how much you like breakfast, so that’s what’s for dinner tonight.”
Sighing happily, she says, “You get me.”
I grin over at her. “I do.”
She releases my hand and bends down to grab her enormous handbag. “I brought these little chocolate pudding cakes for dessert, but I completely forgot about them when I saw Barbie on your front porch, so they’re probably just messy gobs now.”
“That’s all right. We’ll scrape ‘em onto a plate. They’ll still taste the same.”
Extracting a small box wrapped in gold paper, she says, “And I got you a present.”
I freeze, my eyes widening slightly on the package. “Aw, shit.”
Francesca grins. “I didn’t expect you to get me anything. It’s just tradition in my family to express affection with material goods. Also a good way to groom and manipulate a potential victim. But in this instance, it’s affection.”
“You can groom and manipulate me anytime you like,” I assure her, accepting the small box and flashing her a smile. “Thank you.”
Nodding with an eager smile, she says, “Open it.”