Page 107 of All Her Broken Pieces

We had a small get-together at Becka and Robert’s but mostly holed up at my place for the holidays. Fuck it—our place. Ethan’s practically moved in, and we haven’t spent a night apart in over a month.

Two hours later we’ve finished our meal and are side by side at the sink washing and drying our dishes in what has become an almost nightly routine.

“I’m really glad you suggested this. It means a lot to me that you want to cook with me, and Nonna, in a way. I think she would’ve liked you. It almost feels like she’s here giving her blessing when we cook.” He leans in and nips at my neck before kissing it.

“Maybe she is. It’s nice to have someone’s blessing from your family.”

Ethan’s hands still in the water and then he reaches over me to grab a towel. “You have the full blessing of my entire family. My mom loves you, and my sisters all think the world of you, especially Lizzy.”

Blowing out a breath, I turn to face him. “I know. Ashley is great. We text every week. And I love your sisters.”

“But?”

“But what happens when they find out about my past with Hank?”

“Who’s going to tell them? And that was so long ago, it doesn’t matter anymore. The only role he plays in your life is your partner’s father. They don’t have to know any specifics.”

“What about Monica? Don’t you think it’ll be weird when she finds out her baby daddy’s ex is dating her son?”

“I haven’t spoken to her in years, and neither has my dad. I give no fucks about her opinion.”

“What about aunts, uncles, cousins? I know your family is a big part of your life. And I…” I trail off as my breathing increases. I’m spiraling, I can feel it. What we have feels right, and I am terrified of losing it. Those few weeks I spent without Ethan were miserable, and the thought of a random family member’s opinion undoing everything we’ve built is sending me into a panic attack.

“Breathe, sweetheart,” he says, pulling me into him and wrapping me in his arms. “I would walk away from those relationships, family or not, before I would ever let that happen. You have me.”

I blow out a breath and press my ear against his chest, letting the rhythm of his beating heart calm my nerves as my mind quiets, my brain finally catching up with the truths my heart realized months ago. I am exactly where I’m supposed to be.

Four months later

Bridget

The instructor says something to us in Italian, and it’s a struggle to follow her directions. Ethan surprised me with a trip to Italy for my birthday and arranged a private cooking class with a teacher from his culinary school.

It’s also been a year since we met, and I’m worried that Ethan plans to propose to me on this trip. Every time he kneels or squats, I wander off or find something to distract myself. I love this man, but I’m not in a hurry to get married. He either thinks I’m neurotic or nuts at this point.

Ethan moves behind me and takes my hands in his helping me knead the dough. “Like this, hellcat,” he whispers into my ear as a bolt of arousal zips through me. There is nothing sexier than when he takes charge and bosses me around in the kitchen.

My hands are clammy, and I struggle to use the right amount of pressure. “Are you sure this counts as this month’s recipe card?”

“It’s close enough. I remember skipping that card despite Nonna pushing it on me several times because I didn’t like all the veggies on the pizza and Nonna insisted we had to make the card exactly like it said. She didn’t do that with other recipes—we’d add shit all the time making up secret recipes—so I was convinced this recipe was her way of getting me to eat more veggies. Italians don’t put a lot of toppings on their pizza, but I didn’t find that out until I got to culinary school.”

“But the card said veggie pizza, and this is orzo–”

“Ortolana. Since the veggies are in the sauce instead of used as toppings, I’m counting it. We make our own rules,” he says, kissing my neck before moving away to stretch his dough.

____________

It’s the last day of our trip and I’m enjoying my doppio on the balcony. We’ve spent the last several days relaxing by the pool or the beach, strolling the streets, or fucking. He gave me the exact vacation I mentioned during truth or dare.

“Mmm, I want more of this,” Ethan says, coming up behind me as I lean against the rail of the balcony overlooking the water.

“More of what?”

“Days like this. Me and you, the views, no agenda.”

“Me too,” I agree, looking up at him and kissing his cheek.

“I have a surprise for you,” Ethan says as he pulls me into the villa.

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