Page 81 of Enzo
He glanced down his shoulder at me, smiling. “Every Italian cooks.”
“Well, I regret to tell you, I’m half Italian and I don’t cook.”
His eyebrow arched, but his expression remained unreadable before he returned his attention to the stove. “Don’t or can’t?”
“Both, I guess. Mama’s not fond of the kitchen, so she hired a cook.” She was better at being a badass. “And whenever we had a gathering with my uncles, they cooked.”
His back shook as he chuckled. “Don’t tell me none of your uncles ever offered to teach you?”
I tilted my head pensively. “You know, they didn’t. Maybe they thought I already knew?”
“Maybe.”
He flipped the bacon, the smell wafting in the air and making my stomach growl in response. “Do you want to learn?”
“Hmm. Honestly, I’m not sure I’m the domestic goddess kind of girl, you know.”
He nodded. “That’s okay. You don’t have to be domestic as long as you’re mine. Besides, I enjoy cooking.”
I grinned. “I wouldn’t object to learning if you’ll teach me while wearingthis.”
“This?”
“Well,notwearing would be more accurate. Shirtless,” I clarified. I stepped away and started fanning myself. “I mean… naked would be even better. But I’m not overly picky.”
A heartbeat later, he threw his head back and laughed. The belly kind that I hadn’t heard from him yet.
I stared at him, mesmerized, as the most beautiful sound rippled over me. It was better than any cello note I could ever produce.
“Duly noted,mia anima. Boxers it shall be, at least when I’m cooking bacon.” He winked and I smiled, tilting my head in thanks. “I wasn’t sure whether you ate breakfast like your Irish,American, or Italian side. So I fixed a little bit of everything. There’s some yogurt and fruit ready for you, and I’ll get your coffee in a moment.”
I took the glass of orange juice he handed me, then looked over at the table.
“Wow, you’ve really gone all out,” I noted, surveying the beautiful red roses. “When did you have time to get flowers?” It was then that I noticed a long, black box. “And… jewelry?”
“It’s almost ten, hardly the crack of dawn.” His eyes flickered with something heavy. “I went to check on your papà’s Ferrari, then headed into town to handle some engine stuff for it.” Was it my imagination, or were the tips of his ears pink? “I decided to make a few extra stops.”
“How… productive.” I cleared the emotion from my throat and wandered over to the flowers, pinching a stem and bringing it up to my nose.
He scooped the food onto a large plate, then pulled out a seat for me before sitting down himself.
“So, which will it be? American, Irish, or Italian breakfast?”
“American, please.”
I eyed the black velvet box, unsure if it would seem too greedy to open it now.
When I made no effort to move, he reached over and opened it.
“It’s a bracelet,” he told me, revealing a rope of beautiful sapphires, rubies, and diamonds set in letters that readMia anima. “Sapphires are the exact shade of your eyes, while the rubies reminded me of your wedding dress.” He quirked an amused brow in my direction, and I forked some eggs into my mouth to keep from giggling. “And diamonds… well, I hear diamonds are a woman’s best friend.”
“It’s custom-made,” I breathed stupidly, not able to think of anything better to say.
“I had it designed, yes.” He reached for my wrist and clipped it on. “I hope you like it.”
I stared in awe at the stones.
“I love it. I really, really love it.”And I love you, my heart hummed, but I promptly ignored it. It was too soon; too fast; toosomething.
