Cat glared at me playfully. “Good. Youbetternot have been thinking about her while we were having sex.”

I laughed even harder. “If I did, I think I’d lose my erection.”

“Why? Is she ugly?”

“No – no, she’s fine. She’s just not my type.”

“What is she?”

“A bookworm. And thin as a rail.”

Cat looked hurt. I knew she was sensitive about her weight – which was ridiculous to me. She should’ve known by now I couldn’t getenoughof her body exactly the way it was.

“No boobs, no ass, no nothin’,” I added.

Cat looked a little less hurt, but now she was annoyed. “So that’s all that matters? Boobs and ass?”

I suppressed a smile and grabbed her chin with my thumb and forefinger. “Nope. Not by a long shot.”

She narrowed her eyes. “So… what’s your type, then?”

“Beautiful face… gorgeous eyes… a good heart… loyal… the kind of girl who would come halfway across Italy to find me…”

“All the way across the world if she needed to,” Cat said softly.

I smiled. “All the way across the world if she needed to. And I want somebody who can cook… who fixes the bestpappardelle al cinghialeI’ve ever had.”

It was no joke – Cat made the best pasta with wild boar sauce I’d ever tasted, even in the fanciest restaurants in Italy.

“Andzucotto,”she said with a smile, naming a sweet dessert cake she was amazing at.

“Andzucotto.”

“Andbistecca alla Fiorentina…andribollita…andarista,”she said, rattling off some of my favorite dishes.

“All of it,” I agreed.

“Anything else?” she purred.

I made a face like I was thinking. “Huge tits and a spectacular ass.”

She slapped my chest, but she was grinning now.

“And the best sex I’ve ever had.”

She looked at me with a sweet smile. “…really?”

“You had to ask? Seriously?”

“That’s not a ‘yes,’” she said, playing at being annoyed.

“Yes – yes – a thousand times yes,” I said, and kissed her.

She kissed me back, then laid her head down on my chest.

She was quiet again for a few seconds before she spoke again.

“…are you really going to marry her?” she asked quietly.