"Have you ever thought of cutting down the recipes to serve two or three instead?" Spencer suggested practically.

Even though it was a practical suggestion, I still gasped. "One does not screw with the integrity of Nona's recipes. I cook them by the letter, with no deviation," I said succinctly and felt a warming in my chest at the small, fond smile wreathing his lips.

I looked at him thoughtfully. "You know, I guess that if we're supposed to be a thing, I'm going to need to take you to this shindig."

His eyebrows shot up. "Do you really want to get your family involved?"

"No, because I can only imagine the line of questioning that you're going to get from my brothers. But if people start digging, they might wonder why you're not hanging around with the family on a Sunday. And if you're caught partaking in something so ‘domestic,’" I said, emphasizing the word, “then that can only help the cause, right?"

There was a funny look in his expression as he said, "That makes sense, but I don't think we can tell your family the truth. The more people who know about our plan, the riskier it gets."

"Well, shit," I muttered. I really did not like misleading my family, but I'd already put the suggestion out there, and it probably wouldn't hurt for them to think I was dating someone. Ma nagged me enough about it, so she’d be thrilled.

I clucked my tongue and faced Spencer as we stopped at a stoplight. "I'm all in, so you might as well come. Just leave the stuffy version of you at home, or they'll eat you alive."

He rolled his eyes. "Noted."

We got to my apartment building, and before the car even came to a complete stop, I had already opened my door, fully planning on just running up to grab my things and then running right back down to the car. Spencer was having none of that.

"Where do you think you're going without me, young lady?" he asked in a stern voice, and the sound of it caused tingles to go down my spine, then spider out to my nether regions.

"I'm just going to grab a few things, Spencer. It won’t take me long, just wait in the car."

"The hell I will," he said, rushing out of the car and hurrying up behind me. "You know the deal." Grabbing my hand, he pulled me to a stop. I almost wished that I had fought to keep walking instead of allowing him to stop me because when I faced Spencer, I caught the way he looked at me, danger mixed with sensuality glittering in his eyes.

"Well, take me to your apartment, Ava," he instructed gently. I swallowed back the sharp retort I had and kept my hand in his and led him to the stairs.

I felt like we were doing something illicit as we climbed the stairs to my apartment, as if we were on a date that was ending with me yanking him into my place so we could rip each other's clothes off.

When we got to my door, I smiled nervously. "Well, at least there are no notes for me this time," I commented as my hand shakily unlocked the door, with his big hand hot on the small of my back.

Relief washed over me when I felt the lock give way, and I rushed inside, but since he was hot on my heels, he only broke contact when he had to.

I turned on the lights and surveyed the area. " I have to give your guys credit since they left the place neat. I was a little worried about that," I said as I moved into the kitchen and rifled through my pantry. I yanked out a Tupperware box and a canvas bag and plopped the box inside.

"What is that?" he asked in dismay as he eyed the clear box.

"Fudge," I answered simply.

He took a frustrated breath. "You couldn't just pick that up at the store?"

I gave him a scandalized expression. "Excuse me, this is my mother's fudge. There is no store that can come close to Maria Moretti's fudge, thank you very much."

"Is it an essential item, though?"

"You're damn straight it is. I give myself a little treat once a day for mental clarity and creative thinking. You should try it sometime," I told him as I stuffed other things into my shopping bag. After I was done, I headed towards my bedroom, turned to him sharply, and told him to, "Stay put. They are some things you don't need to be privy to."

He rolled his eyes, but I couldn't help but notice how interested he seemed as I disappeared into my bedroom. I'd let him think I was going to grab some tampons or something. I really was going to grab something that I thought might help me out in the more tense moments. I had waffled back and forth on whether I really wanted to get it or not, but after getting so hot and bothered in the middle of a damn grocery store, I decided that it was essential. So, I snatched up my makeup bag, rifled through my underwear drawer until I found what I was looking for, and shoved it into the makeup bag, before shoving that into my big canvas shopping bag.

"There, I feel better now," I said as I emerged from my bedroom with my bag of treasures.

"Alright," he said, clapping his hands together. "Let's get you home so you can, how did you put it? Break in my kitchen? What exactly does that entail, Ava?" he asked idly as I locked up my apartment and headed back down the stairs. To my chagrin, he insisted on carrying the bag, telling me, "It's what a gentleman would do."

"Why the hell are you going to start acting like one of those now?"

He shook his head at me but didn’t reply, so I answered his other question. "I'm going to be putting things into that oven that it's never seen before. It's never known the kind of flavor and aroma I’m going to introduce it to."

He nearly choked on his own spit. “I’m sorry, what?”