Page 38 of Tasting Sin

He looked up, giving me another once over before he slowly shook his head. Spice jumped from his arm, landing on the ground with a quiet grunt. He knocked his head against Ronan’s leg, dragging his side along his calf before he sauntered off, no longer caring about the two of us.

“You look,” Ronan paused, stepping forward to close the distance between us, “incredible. You’re so beautiful.”

I looked down toward the ground, wishing I didn’t blush so easily when I felt my cheeks and chest start to warm. It wouldn’t take long before I was the same shade of pink as my dress. Maybe I should’ve worn a different color.

“Thank you,” I whispered. “You too.” I cringed. Did I just tell him he looked beautiful?

Ronan laughed, reaching his hand out and taking mine. He tugged me gently to him, and when my chest met his, I couldn’t fight the grin or the warmth that instantly settled between my legs. My stomach flipped thinking about his hand around my throat, and then, all I wanted was to feel his hands all over me again.

“We better go,” Ronan said, swallowing. His voice sounded strained, and when he clenched his jaw, I wanted to follow the twitch of the muscle with the tip of my tongue.

“Why?” I asked breathlessly.

He stepped back from me, putting his arm around my waist and guiding me to the door. “That’s why,” he chuckled. “Because if we don’t leave right now, I’m going to decide I don’t care about any movie, and I’m going to tear that dress off you instead. You look way too pretty for me to do that this early.”

This early. So he planned to do it at some point—at least, I hoped. I pressed my legs together, nodding and heading for the door. “Bye, Spice. We’ll be back later.”

“You don’t ever get tired of eating here?” I asked when we were seated in a quiet booth at the back of Anthony’s. When we had walked in, the host took us right to our seats. They had been expecting him.

Ronan laughed, pulling the cork from the bottle of wine that had been waiting on the table for us. “I don’t usually eat here.” He shrugged, pouring two glasses. He offered one to me. “You asked what I do. I’d rather show you.”

I laughed and took the glass from him, swirling the dark red wine around and watching it cling to the sides. “So why don’t you eat here?”

“I run the place. If I ate here too, I’d get sick of it.” He shrugged, then he held up his glass. “Cheers to you letting me take you out tonight,” he said, tapping his glass to mine.

I giggled, reveling in the small smile that stretched across his face when the glasses clinked. “But not like a date,” I reminded him, blushing anyways. It was probably more of a reminder for myself after spending three hours trying to figure out which dress he would like the most.

“Right. Whatever you say, sugar.” He winked, taking a long gulp of wine, and when he swallowed, I followed the lump in his throat while mine dried out. Ronan lowered his voice to a whisper. “Not a date, but we both know you picked that dress just for me, didn’t you?”

I wasn’t going to admit I knew the pink dress brought out my blush or that I had caught many men staring at my cleavage in this dress. Tonight, I only hoped to catch one.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I giggled, swallowing my slightly embarrassed amusement with another sip and humming.

The wine was delicious, smoother than anything I normally had, and slightly sweet—not too dry. It was strong too, and after just one glass, it was starting to go to my head. A soft filter fogged my reasoning, and I became more interested in the idea of Ronan’s hands on me than I was the pizza we hadn’t ordered yet.

I felt relieved when our waiter came to the table, interrupting the train of thought that was quickly taking me back to that spot bent over the sink at the bakery. I adjusted in my seat, pressing my legs together.

“Your pizza, sir,” the waiter said with a slight nod. He sat a large pizza down on the table, and I was surrounded by steam that smelled like rich marinara and sweet bell peppers.

“Thank you,” Ronan said, earning a brief smile from the waiter before he walked away. “I hope you like sausage and peppers.”

“It’s my favorite.” It had always been Dickie’s favorite, and every time I ate it, it made me think of him. Ronan nodded like he already knew that—or like he could hear my thoughts. When he smiled, my nerves fluttered.

“He’s the reason it’s my favorite too.” His smile was softer when he handed me the menu. He flipped it open to the first page, pointing to the header printed in bold. Dickie’s Choice.

I blinked back the surprised tears that stung my eyes, and I forced my stare away from the menu. “You named it for him?” I asked quietly. Ronan nodded. “That’s why you wanted me to try it.” He nodded again, and when I sniffled, he reached across the table and took my hand.

“I needed you to know I never stopped caring for him. He was my best friend, and I think about him every day.” He squeezed my hand once before letting go and clearing his throat. “Are you hungry?”

“I’m starving.” What would Dickie do if he knew I was eating pizza with Ronan Moretti right now? I laughed, knowing he would have hated it. He would’ve been so mad, though I’m not sure which one of us he’d have been angrier with. For some reason, I also didn’t care.

I took a big bite of the slice of pizza, gasping when the molten sauce and melted cheese burnt my tongue. I covered my mouth with my napkin, taking several quick breaths in to try and cool it down while I frantically chewed it to get it out of my mouth as fast as I could. My eyes watered, and the tears I had prevented moments earlier started to stream down my face.

“Careful,” Ronan said. “It’s hot.”

I swallowed and cocked my head to the side. “Yeah, I figured that out.” I blew lightly on the pizza and took another bite. It was still too hot, and I resisted the urge to react as much as I could. Ronan didn’t miss the wince on my face, and when I swallowed, he looked at me expectantly. “Totally worth it,” I said. “This is delicious.”

He dropped his head back, laughing loudly enough to draw attention from the tables around us. “You’re something, you know that?” he said, his voice thick with amusement.

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