Page 30 of (UN)Bounded

“Thanks, G. I’ve never had my own studio before,” I say against his lips, and I’m praying every single prayer I know that he’ll kiss me this time. Just a kiss—that’s all I want. For now, at least.

A gorgeous and cheeky smirk appears on his handsome face, and I twist my eyebrows in question.

“I’m G,” he affirms, not asks. When realization dawns on me, I open my eyes wide. He heard me last night. That was what his comment was about this morning. I bite my lower lip, and Gabo grunts.

“Don’t tempt me like that, Bella. We need to have a conversation before I can kiss those gorgeous lips.”

I press my core against him, and his hands squeeze my waist.

“I promise you, I’ll make it worth the wait,” he says as he releases me and places me on the ground. I shake my head to get rid of the lust fog my brain is in, and when I look at the man behind the booth, he’s grinning like a loon. Welp, I guess we gave him all the action he’s going to see this month.

“I’m interested in this piece,” I say as I point to the bed board.

“It’s two hundred fifty Euros.” I open my eyes wide; I was thinking at least a thousand.

“Are you sure?” I ask him. I don’t want him to think he needs to give me a discount.

“Okay for you, two hundred Euros.”

“No, no, no. I was just thinking that you should charge more; this is a gorgeous piece.”

“No, signorina. That’s the fair price,” he tells me, and I see Gabo getting his wallet from the corner of my eye.

“No, this is mine. Please let me pay for my stuff.”

“You’re right, I’m sorry. I just want to give you the world,” Gabo says, and it takes everything in me not to jump his bones.

“You cannot say those things if you want me to behave, G,” I whisper, and he just chuckles.

After paying, the artist promised to bring the wooden piece to the villa at the end of the afternoon on his way home. Gabo drove his Ferrari to the farmers market, so there’s no way we’ll be able to fit it in there. I should have known he let me drive my Bug because he had another set of cars at the villa.

Tonight is shaping up to be one of the best nights of my life. I just have to open up my heart to Gabo and tell him why I don’t believe in relationships. Easy, right? I sure hope so.

Chapter 12

Gabo Godoy

If I thought the farmers market was a great date with Bella, cooking with her is even better. Her soft summer vibes playlist hums through the kitchen speakers. I must admit, it’s not terrible and somehow captures the summer vibe I’m leaning toward these days—fun days under the sun, enjoying her company. I wish I could take Monday off and spend more time with her here, but she’s beyond excited about the professor coming from Switzerland.

I also need to oversee the completion of a couple of buildings and start researching the other countries where we will be designing warehouses. I need to make sure that every single detail I change in the original design will look flawless against the different terrains.

Getting back to reality, I look at Bella, whose back is turned to me. I need a medal or something because all I want to do right this minute is sit her up on the kitchen counter and spread her legs wide open for me. But, for the sake of starting things with her on the right foot and for being a good friend to Luca, I must wait until we talk. I hope she’ll share her fears with me tonight, but we shall see. One thing at a time, and right now, we have to make the pasta.

“Have you made pasta from scratch before?” I ask against her neck, and her skin immediately gets goosebumps.

“Excuse me? I’m Argentinian, che. Of course I have; we make gnocchi every 29th of the month.” I smile at her. I love how proud of her roots she is.

“Oh, that’s right. My bad.” She huffs a breath and turns to face me fully.

“Yeah, Grandpa Bianchi taught us how to make pasta. But tonight, I want to see you in action.” The smirk on her face has my dick twitching. I’m about to say, “Fuck dinner, let me have my way with you,” when my phone starts vibrating. I wonder who it might be—I gave Dom specific instructions not to bother me with work stuff. A cold chill runs down my spine when I get the phone out of my pocket and see who’s calling.

“It’s your brother. If I don’t get this, he’ll be on the next plane to Bologna.”

Bella chuckles and pauses her music on her phone.

“Hey, bro. What’s up?” I say as I hit accept and put the phone on speaker.

“My man, we’re good here. Enjoying winter. How’s everything over there?” Luca says, and my sister retorts in the background, “No, we’re not enjoying winter. I’m miserable. Being pregnant during winter is no fun.”

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