Since I Fell For You(80)

“I’m glad you got a chance to meet Marcus and his wife, Nicola,” she said after taking a sip of the delicious wine.

“They both seemed like nice people,” he said as he stirred his homemade sauce, the pasta already rolled, cut, and in boiling water.

Sitting at his kitchen island, watching him put dinner together, she decided she could get used to this kind of treatment. Not only did everything smell amazing, but the truth was her legs were still kind of shaky after their last very acrobatic round of sex.

“They are really nice. No matter how rich or famous or successful my relatives are, they’re all good people. I’m not saying they can’t be cocky sometimes, or drive you up a wall, but I can’t see any of them deliberately hurting anyone. Especially each other.”

“How do you think that happened?” He looked up from the stove. “I’ve met a lot of families doing security, and they spend most of their time fighting and arguing.”

“Well, for my eight cousins in San Francisco, their dad died when they were really young, so maybe that bonded them together. I know Marcus did a lot to help raise his siblings, since Lori and Sophie were barely older than babies when it happened. For my Seattle cousins, their parents have always had a great marriage, but as far as I understand, they ran into some pretty big problems when my Uncle Max lost his job a bunch of years back. He wouldn’t take any money from his brothers, even though I know my dad kept offering. My cousin Ian—you know, the guy who owns the building I’m living in—gave up a lot to help out. They were always close, but I’m guessing what they went through together helped bring them even closer. And then for my cousins in Maine—” She laughed at herself when she realized she was rattling on endlessly about her big family. “I’m pretty sure you get the picture.”

He smiled. “I do. When your family goes through tough times, you band together. Just the way you and your brothers did after your mother passed away.” His smile fell. “Whereas most families just fall apart.”

She hated seeing the pain on his face and so badly wished she could help make it go away. “Roman, maybe if you talked with your father—”

His face was a hard mask as he plated their food. “If you ever met him, you’d understand why there’s no point in wasting my time.”

Roman had told her when they were making love that he wouldn’t stop loving her. She wanted to believe he’d meant it—that it wasn’t simply the orgasms talking. So if he did mean it, wouldn’t that also mean she’d meet his father one day?

Considering they’d just made love for the first time tonight, and that only one of them had said I love you, she shouldn’t get too far ahead of herself. But it was difficult not to when she’d always gone after what she wanted without second-guessing herself or letting fear impede her determination and focus.

After putting a loaded plate of pasta and sauce in front of her, he brought over his wine glass and plate, then pulled up the bar stool beside her.

“It smells incredible.” She took a bite and made an embarrassing sound of culinary bliss.

“I take it that means you like it.”

She would have answered him if she could have stopped stuffing her mouth long enough to speak. But between how badly she needed food and what a fabulous cook he was, all she could do was nod while she kept eating. And eating. And eating. Until her fork scraped against her plate and she realized she’d mowed through her meal in record time.

Grinning, Roman didn’t miss a beat as he slid his still half-full plate over so that they could both eat. It wasn’t just delicious, wasn’t just romantic, it was also fun to sit in Roman’s kitchen in his loft talking and loving and eating. And it felt right.

So perfectly right.

“I can’t remember the last time I ate anything that good.” She leaned over to kiss him. “Thank you for making me dinner.”

“Thank you for being a woman who eats. I can’t remember the last time I met one.”

She looked down at the two plates she’d cleared. “If I weren’t so stuffed from eating half your dinner in addition to my own, I would be licking the plates right now. So, yeah, I’d say I’m a woman who eats. And now that my energy has been restored, what do you say we leave these dishes in the sink for now so that we can—”

The door buzzer cut off the rest of her sexy proposition. “Roman, it’s Dad. You home?”





CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN





Damn it.

Of all the nights for Roman’s father to drop by, he had to pick tonight.

All Roman wanted to do was take Suzanne back upstairs and make love to her. The last thing he wanted to do tonight was face reality. Unfortunately, nothing got him closer to reality than Tommy Huson—a man who had loved too deeply and had never been able to recover when it all went wrong.