Page 93 of Monstrous Travels as Wicked as Sin

Percy’s mouth bobbed open and closed, and he rambled out a worried, “I don’t even know if she left us any olive oil.”

Joe pulled the top of the paper bags a little further open for Percy to see inside. “Then it’s bread and cheese and wine. We’ll probably survive the next few hours.”

“Wine.” Percy’s beautiful eyes grew unfathomably large. “The cellar. Leo!”

“On my way!” Leo’s footsteps ricocheted through the hall, and they all waited in tense silence until his shout came back, “The cellar’s fine!”

“Thank Christ for that,” Percy muttered. “Can you imagine the sort of evening?—”

Joe shut him up with a kiss.

CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

A TASTE OF ITALY

It took a solid five hours, but between Leo’s expertise and a good deal of hard work by Joe and Althea, they were, more or less, settled into the sparsely but newly furnished apartment by around nine that evening.

No one said anything when Percy decided to make pasta from scratch, all being in silent agreement that he was probably better occupied there than having input into which furnishings Leo could or could not have delivered at such short notice.

To Joe’s eyes, he was charmingly employed anyway, deep in conversation with grunts from Cleo’s skull and mews from Moxie while he discussed how he was making his sauce. Joe couldn’t tell whether he was just waffling or if Percy understood their meanings, but something in his heart popped at the choice cuts of pancetta Percy dropped for the cat he still swore he despised.

No art on the walls, door propped open to vent the smells of cleaning products and perfume, all of them a mess and exhausted, and it was already a life Joe felt completely at one with.

He made his way into the kitchen and slid two arms around Percy’s waist. Percy leaned his head back for a kiss on the cheek, and Joe said, “Do you need a taste tester?”

“Fuck, no. You’ll eat when I say.”

Joe huffed and made to move away.

“Kiss.”

He reached up and turned Percy’s face for a kiss.

“Another,” Percy demanded.

Joe complied.

“Another.”

“Percy…” Joe did as requested, then Percy let go of his spoon, grasping Joe instead, spinning him around, pushing him back against the fridge. Joe shifted his hip forward, to be met by Percy’s, and ground back. “This is better than going for cocktails, isn’t it?”

“It is.” Percy kissed the side of his jaw. “Do you like the apartment?”

“Yes. But I like you even more.” Joe moved his lips to catch the next kiss.

“Do you know,” Percy whispered in his ear, fingers trailing down his chest, “I’m a slut for you in this outfit.”

“I do know,” Joe replied, tilting his head to enjoy the kiss on his neck. “Why do you think I wear it all the time?”

Percy took hold of his cheek, his thumb flat along the line of his cheekbone, his fingers edging into Joe’s hair, drinking in his gorgeous fiancé. Joe’s hands were at his waist, gently toying with his shirt, his eyes bright and so, so content.

Everything was as calm and beautiful as it would ever be. But homely. A casual yet poignant moment. A symbol of how beautiful things would always be, from that time…

Maybe this was the perfect moment for the ring?

Itwasperfect.

Percy’s hand slipped over Joe’s hip, down, and into his own pocket. “Handsome?—”

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