Page 84 of Operation Sunshine
“Never,” he breathed, his words an anchor in the still of the night. “You’re already in me, Franco. Every part of you.”
Franco’s chest tightened, the weight of Ben’s words sinking deep, a promise that settled somewhere deep inside him. No matter what came next, no matter where he went, he knew now this wasn’t merely a passing moment. This was something real. Something that could last.
He didn’t mention Florence, but the silence wasn’t avoidance—it was sanctuary. For tonight, there was no leaving, no countdown, only the two of them, skin to skin, hearts pressed close, Franco daring to believe this connection could survive whatever distance was coming.
He closed his eyes, letting the warmth of Ben’s body against his and the gentle rhythm of their breathing lull him into a place of peace he hadn’t felt in a long time. Yes, he’d be leaving, but at least he wouldn’t be leaving alone.
He’d carry Ben with him.
And as sleep began to pull him under, his fingers traced the curve of Ben’s shoulder, clinging to the words, to the promise.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Franco woke to the warmth of sunlight slipping through Ben’s curtains and the steady rise and fall of Ben’s chest beneath his cheek. For a moment, he let himself believe there was no ticking clock, no Florence, no looming departure, only this.
Only them.
Ben’s arm tightened unconsciously around him, his palm splayed over Franco’s back as if it belonged there. The touch was so natural, so unthinking, that Franco’s throat caught. He tipped his head back, taking in the mess of Ben’s hair, the shadow of stubble along his jaw, the faint crease between his brows that smoothed when Franco brushed it lightly with his thumb.
“Morning,” Ben murmured, his voice gravelly with sleep.
“Morning.” Franco wanted to freeze time right here, to live in this cocoon of sheets and warmth and Ben’s heartbeat under his ear.
Ben pressed a kiss to his temple, lingering there. “You’re quiet.”
Franco strove not to laugh. Quiet was not a word often applied to him. But this wasn’t the usual morning-after chatter, full of jokes and easy innuendo.
This was heavier, yet somehow fragile at the same time.
“I’m just…” He hesitated, staring at the line of Ben’s collarbone where the sheet had slipped. “I’m trying to remember what this feels like. So I don’t forget.”
Ben’s breathing hitched. He didn’t answer right away, but tightened his hold, moulding Franco against him. “You don’t have to remember,” he said at last. “You’ll come back to it.”
The words should have comforted Franco. Instead, they lodged like glass between his ribs, way too close to his heart. He wanted to believe them, wanted to believe they could pick this up when he returned from Florence, as though three months and a continent wouldn’t stretch between them. Despite his optimism of the previous night, when the heat of his orgasm had still lingered, uncertainty now loomed on the horizon, as heavy as storm clouds.
He burrowed closer, tucking his face into the hollow of Ben’s throat, and let himself whisper the only truth he could manage. “I don’t want to get up yet.”
Ben’s hand smoothed gently over his back. “Then don’t,” he murmured. “We can stay like this a while longer.”
Franco breathed him in, clinging to the illusion of permanence, to the warmth of Ben’s arms.
The world could wait an hour more.
Ben paused at the door to the restaurant. “You’re sure about this?”
Franco nodded. The softness of the morning had been folded up and hidden away. They went inside, and he could already hear sounds from the kitchen.
Raj peered through the pass. “Oh, so youdowork here after all. I was beginning to wonder.”
Franco glanced at Ben, who nodded. Franco clapped his hands. “All right, famiglia,” he called out. “Everyone, knives down. I have an announcement.”
One by one they filtered out of the kitchen, Raj wiping his palms on a towel, Mina batting sugar from her apron, Willow and Lexie regarding him with obvious curiosity. Ollie popped up from behind the bar.
“You’re on,” Ben murmured.
Franco inhaled deeply. “You are looking at the next stagiaire for the one and only Chef Gallo in Florence.”
A murmur of surprise rippled through the room, followed by a few gasps, and then cheers, claps, and whistles. Lexie let out a high-pitched “Oh my God, Franco!” while Raj rolled his eyes and muttered, “Of course he did,” although he made no effort to hide his smile.
