Page 77 of Chosen Road

I knew that tone. It was his ‘I’m holding my temper tone and you better hold yours, too, or I’ll haul your ass up to bed’.

My brain, my heart, and my libido staged a three-front assault on my psyche. “Um…”

He crossed his arms over his wide chest and stared down at me. “What did you bring?”

“Stuff to make antipasto plates, and I planned to make roast potatoes, roast chicken, and green beans.” My voice sounded gruff even to my own ears.

He stepped closer, unlocked his arms, and reached out to tuck my hair behind my ear. I closed my eyes.

“Amber,” he murmured.

“Yes?” I breathed.

The hand that tucked my hair behind my ear snaked around to cup the back of my neck. He dropped his voice so only I could hear him. “Make your potatoes and your chicken and your green beans. We’ll have a feast. I’ve missed your cooking. I’ll eat your food until I can eat you.”

My breath caught in my throat, and I panted in his face. For a pregnant moment, there was nothing I wanted more, then the images intruded, and I stiffened.

His expression morphed into one of resignation. He palmed the back of my head and pulled me roughly to his chest that expanded under my cheek with the deep breath he took.

“I’m sorry for pushing you too fast. Having you here is playing with my head and making me happier than I’ve been in a long time. I’ll back off.”

I lay against his chest and forced the words from my lips.

“Not too far, Gus,” I whispered. “Don’t back off too far.”

His arms tightened around me, and his big body trembled against mine, his emotions palpable. I pushed my arms around his back and stroked down his spine. Mine to love. Mine to protect. Mine to care for. Mine to hold.

I started to pull away, not wanting an audience. “Where is Alex?”

Gus loosened his hold but didn’t release me entirely. “He’s downstairs.”

I nodded and rolled my lips between my teeth. “Where’s Yiayia?”

“She came out, saw us, and went back into her room.”

I wasn’t sure how I felt about that, but I stepped into him and rested my cheek against his chest. I sighed. “I want so badly to curl up and go to sleep.”

“You can. You can go upstairs and take a nap if you want to. I’ll make dinner.”

I laughed. “I wish, but I have work to do.” I gently extricated myself from his hold and turned away to grab the potatoes without looking at him.

He stepped over to the stove, checked his meat sauce, and turned it down to simmer.

“It’s all yours,” he said gruffly, dragging a hand across my lower back as he headed for the basement.

A minute later, Yiayia came out of her room. “Yassou, koritzi mou! I didn’t know you was here!”

I looked at her wryly. “I know you saw, Yiayia.”

“I see nothing!” she declared with a huge smile and shuffled into the kitchen. “What we are making for dinner, koritzaki?”

“We’re having a feast, Yiayia, to celebrate you being okay. Gus made meat sauce for spaghetti, and I’m going to make roast chicken and potatoes. I’ll season it with basil and oregano to go with Gus’s sauce.”

“You going to make salad?”

“Antipasto. What do you think?”

She gave an exaggerated nod of approval. “Bravo, koritzi mou. Bravo.”

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