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.