Page 26 of Possessive Greek Chef

“I know, I just like watching your tits bounce when you jump,” he teases.

He’s so serious most of the time, and I love it when he gets playful with me.

“I’ll make you a deal. You can have it for a kiss,” he tells me.

I stand on my toes and give him a little peck on the lips, but he shakes his head. “No, you’ll have to do better than that.”

I lean into him and press my lips to his. He grabs my waist and kisses me passionately then hands me my bra.

We dress and return to the dining room. I look at our mess on the table and say, “We should clean that up.”

“No, leave it. I want to talk to you about something right now.”

“What is it?” I ask. Surely after surprising me with my own restaurant, a romantic dinner, and making passionate love to me, he couldn’t possibly have anything else up his sleeve.

He takes my hands and says, “When we were in Molyvos, I picked something up from my mother.”

“What?” I ask and gasp as he drops to his knees.

“Aria, I’ve loved you from the very second that I laid eyes on you. I haven’t doubted for a single second that I want you by my side for the rest of my life. Will you marry me?”

He pulls the most beautiful platinum and diamond ring from his pocket and places it on my finger. “This was my grandmother's ring. I hope you like it.”

“I love it,” I cry as I watch the light dance off the diamond, “and I love you. Yes, I’ll marry you.”

He stands and takes me in his arms.

“You’ve been planning this since our trip to Molyvos?”

“I told you, little girl, I’ve always known.”

EPILOGUE

ATTICUS

Two Years Later

“Are you ready? The press is going to be there. We don’t want to be late,” Aria shouts up to me from the bottom of the stairs.

“I know the press will be there. I have an image to uphold. Just because I’ve gone from celebrity chef bachelor to one-half of a celebrity chef couple doesn’t mean I can let myself go,” I peer down the stairs at her and grin.

“Celebrity chef couple? You mean sexy Atticus Adimos and his fat chef wife,” she pouts.

I slap my hand against the wall and run down the stairs. Placing my hand on her round belly, I kiss her sweet neck, “You get hotter every day, baby girl.”

“No, I get bigger every day. I don’t know if my clothes will ever fit again.”

“Then I’ll take you shopping, but it won’t change the fact that you’re the most beautiful girl in the world. And soon, you’ll be the hottest mommy in the world.”

“Are you saying I’ll be a MILF?” she giggles.

“My MILF, yes but not in the traditional sense. You can’t be a traditional MILF because you’ll always look like a teenager.”

“Speaking of looks, you look dashing in that suit.”

“And you look amazing in that dress,” I kiss her.

Tonight is a big night for our business and our reputation. It’s the one-year anniversary of Aria’s grand opening, and we’ve invited the upper echelon of the food community to join us for the celebration. Journalists from culinary, travel, and entertainment magazines, television hosts, other celebrity chefs, and even one lucky food blogger who won entry to the party in a contest that we ran will be inspecting, assessing, and reviewing the food, presentation, and overall atmosphere. If things go well, and they should, we’ll be opening a third location by the time the baby is born.

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