Page 42 of Always Be True: Tino
Mainly because she didn’t want to face the inquisition that would be forthcoming the second her father relayed her message to her mom. She wouldn’t be able to avoid the discussion indefinitely, but hopefully she’d bought herself enough time to talk to Tino about the dinner. She had no idea if he would actually be willing to go with her and wouldn’t blame him in the least if he didn’t. She’d also have to let him know that it was a black-tie affair, which meant a tuxedo.
Picking up the chef’s knife, she vented her frustration on the poor, innocent carrots and other vegetables for the salad. Darn it all, anyway. She should have known better than to return her father’s call. It had been only a matter of time before the two halves of her life—the public and the private—crashed into each other, but she’d really been hoping to put it off for a while longer.
Granted, eventually she and Tino would have to dive into the deep end of the social pool as a couple if they were going to continue to see each other. She just wished it wasn’t going to be so soon and especially at an affair where they’d be bound to spend time with her mother and father, not to mention her ex-fiancé and his parents. Maybe it wouldn’t be so hard if she wasn’t the only one who believed that the breakup with Benton wasn’t a temporary aberration on her part. If one more person even hinted that he’d be willing to forgive her if she were to ask him nicely enough, she was going to go ballistic.
She finished assembling the salad and checked on herpasta e fagiolisoup. The rich scents of tomato sauce and fresh basil helped to soothe her badly frayed nerves. Comfort food, indeed. After tasting the broth to see if it needed another sprinkle of salt, she turned her attention to slicing the rustic loaf of bread she’d picked up at her favorite bakery on the way home from work.
All in all, it was a pretty simple meal, but it was one of her favorites. She’d already warned Tino not to expect anything too fancy, but she hoped he wasn’t disappointed. She quickly set the table with her grandmother’s everyday china.
With dinner under control, it was time to add some finishing touches to her own appearance. She changed into a soft blue sweater that brought out the color of her eyes. Paired with skinny jeans and black ankle booties, the outfit hit the right note for a casual evening at home. She touched up her lipstick and checked her hair. She’d thought about wearing it up, but Tino seemed to prefer it down and loose.
The doorbell signaled she’d just run out of time for any further primping. After a last look in the mirror, she headed for the entryway. One final deep breath before she opened the door did little to ease the flurry of jitters in her chest. What did help was seeing that Tino looked every bit as nervous as she felt. He looked scrumptious in jeans and a crew-neck sweater that accented his sleekly muscled build. The deep red color brought out the warm tones of his skin. And if he wasn’t her date, she might actually hate him for having such long lashes framing those dark eyes.
He held out a bottle of wine along with a bunch of small, bright pink lilies. “Sorry, I know I’m a little early.”
“Only by a minute or two.” She accepted the bouquet and motioned for him to come inside. It was amazing how crowded the foyer seemed with the addition of one man. Odd that she’d never noticed that happening when Benton used to stop by. On the other hand, she couldn’t remember ever feeling quite so…so aware of him on a physical level as she was of Tino from the first time she’d laid eyes on him. It was as if she stood high on a mountain pass where the air was too thin to really catch her breath.
The sensation wasn’t unpleasant, but it was definitely perplexing. “Thank you for these. Alstroemeria happens to be one of my favorite flowers. They come in such amazing colors.”
“I’m glad you like them.” Tino gave her a quick kiss and then stepped back to sniff the air. “I don’t know what you’re cooking, but it smells wonderful.”
“I warned you that I don’t do fancy, but I make a meanpasta e fagiolisoup. Come on into the kitchen. I need to get these in water and then check on dinner.”
Then she headed down the hall and let her handsome guest follow as he would.
—
Tino watched Natalie take off at hyperdrive speed, faster even than her usual quick pace. Either she was worried the flowers wouldn’t last another five minutes without water or else he wasn’t the only one a bit nervous about how this evening would play out. Rather than crowd her, he took his time hanging up his jacket on the hall tree before following her toward the kitchen. Well, and also so he could admire the way those jeans hugged her curves and imagine just what it would be like to get his hands on that fabulous ass.
Her spiky-heeled boots only added to the sexy sway of her hips as she walked. God, he hoped his tongue wasn’t hanging out, especially because she paused halfway down the hall to glance back to make sure he was following. Her dimples made a brief appearance before she continued on her way, which left little doubt that she knew exactly the effect she was having on him.
By the time he walked into the kitchen, she was straining to reach a vase in one of the cupboards. At five foot nothing, anything beyond the first shelf was a definite stretch for her. Using the tips of her fingers, she’d managed to tug the heavy vase to almost within her reach, but at the moment it was teetering precariously on the edge of the shelf. Tino gave it even odds whether it would fall into her grasp or tumble past her waiting hands to shatter on the floor. To avert the potential danger, he hurried to the rescue.
“Here, let me get that.”
He reached over her head to lift the vase down to the counter. As he did so, he tried not to think about the soft press of her body against his or the sexy scent of her perfume. A gentleman would back away as soon as the near disaster had been avoided. Evidently he didn’t fit that description.
Instead of retreating to the safety of the other side of the room, he gave Natalie just enough room to turn around but kept her trapped between him and the counter. She didn’t seem to be in any hurry to escape, either. Her hands settled on his waist as the corners of her mouth tipped up in a hint of a soft smile.
“If you plan to make a habit of rescuing me, I’m going to have to find a way to reward you. Any suggestions?”
“All kinds of them.” He stared down at her and let her glimpse the real hunger he was feeling even if it wasn’t for her soup, no matter how delicious it smelled. “However, it would be a shame to let all the hard work you put into fixing dinner go to waste.”
She trailed one hand upward to settle over the center of his chest, her smile widening when his pulse picked up speed under the warmth of her palm. “So true, but the good news is that dinner is ready. We’re having soup, salad, and sourdough bread.”
“That sounds great.” He let her slip away. “Although I notice you didn’t mention any dessert.”
Her tongue darted out to quickly lick the corner of her mouth. “Don’t worry, Gianelli. I’ll come up with something I’m sure you’ll find…most satisfying.”
The image of her welcoming him into her bed, into her body, flashed through his mind. He couldn’t help it. He groaned. And brat that she was, Natalie laughed.
“Maybe I should get dinner on the table.”
He couldn’t have agreed more. “Is there something I can do to help?”
Anything that would distract him from wondering how sturdy that pedestal table actually was. Right now, he very much wanted to toss his hostess down on top of it and conduct a few hands-on tests to find out. Unfortunately, she derailed that train of thought.
“Why don’t you open the wine while I serve the soup and salad? I thought we’d eat in here instead of the dining room. It’s cozier.”
