Epilogue
One Month Later
Bridget
“Are you ever going to fuck me in the kitchen?”
“I know you want me to say yes, but that’s a hard pass for me, sweetheart.”
“Why not?” I pout, sticking my lower lip out, knowing he can’t resist it.
His eyes lock on my mouth as he slowly stalks over to where I’m leaning on the counter. Bracing an arm on either side of me, he licks at the seam of my mouth before sucking on my lower lip, and my panties instantly flood. This man has total control of my body.
“You know why. But I’ll gladly fuck you on any other surface of this apartment.”
“I thought dating a chef would mean endless banging on kitchen counters.”
“Dating a chef isn’t like what you read in romance books. I’m not going to risk you getting salmonella because I can’t walk ten steps to the couch to fuck you. Plus, the cleanup required to make the surface fuckable is kind of a boner killer.”
“Yes, chef,” I say with a dejected sigh.
“Now that . That makes me fucking feral for you,” he groans, licking a trail up my neck.
“Not feral enough to fuck me on the granite island,” I pout as I playfully push him away and walk to the pantry to grab something.
“Sounds like someone needs to be tied down and spanked tonight.”
“That can be arranged,” I say as I return with his Nonna’s recipe box. “But first, I have a surprise.” I set the box on the counter.
Ethan hugs me from behind, his thick forearms encompassing my waist as he squeezes me, pressing soft kisses to my neck. “What’s this?”
I turn in his embrace and look directly into his deep green eyes. “I want to cook the rest of your Nonna’s recipes. With you. I figured we could do one a week?”
“Sweetheart, I would love that.” He grabs my face in his hands and kisses me fiercely. When he pulls back, there’s a hint of mischief in his eyes. “Let’s do one a month. You know, really draw it out.”
Prior to last month, the thought of that kind of commitment would’ve sent me running faster than a cheetah at top speed. But now? Now I feel at home for the first time in my life.
“Deal,” I agree as he slants his lips over mine. The kiss is deep and passionate, filled with the promise of so much more.
“First we cook,” he starts.
“Then we fuck,” I finish as he kisses my forehead.
“I’m going to warn you, there’s a reason why teenage Ethan skipped some of these, though my palate has changed so this might not be so bad. Which one should we start with?” he asks with an eagerness I haven’t seen in months.
“Do we have ingredients for any of them? I’m not keen on trudging through the frozen tundra at the moment.”
He opens the box, flipping through the cards quickly. “This zuppa toscana could work. We have everything for this one.”
After our reunion, we spent most of the holiday season at my apartment. There was no way either of us were ready to be around his dad. Ethan still found ways to spend time with his sisters when his dad was working and was able to trade shifts at the restaurant so he could work lunch shifts and have his evenings off with me.
We had a small get-together at Becka and Robert’s but mostly holed up at my place for the holidays. Fuck it—our place. Ethan’s practically moved in, and we haven’t spent a night apart in over a month.
Two hours later we’ve finished our meal and are side by side at the sink washing and drying our dishes in what has become an almost nightly routine.
“I’m really glad you suggested this. It means a lot to me that you want to cook with me, and Nonna, in a way. I think she would’ve liked you. It almost feels like she’s here giving her blessing when we cook.” He leans in and nips at my neck before kissing it.
“Maybe she is. It’s nice to have someone’s blessing from your family.”
Ethan’s hands still in the water and then he reaches over me to grab a towel. “You have the full blessing of my entire family. My mom loves you, and my sisters all think the world of you, especially Lizzy.”
Blowing out a breath, I turn to face him. “I know. Ashley is great. We text every week. And I love your sisters.”
“But?”
“But what happens when they find out about my past with Hank?”
“Who’s going to tell them? And that was so long ago, it doesn’t matter anymore. The only role he plays in your life is your partner’s father. They don’t have to know any specifics.”
“What about Monica? Don’t you think it’ll be weird when she finds out her baby daddy’s ex is dating her son?”
“I haven’t spoken to her in years, and neither has my dad. I give no fucks about her opinion.”
“What about aunts, uncles, cousins? I know your family is a big part of your life. And I…” I trail off as my breathing increases. I’m spiraling, I can feel it. What we have feels right, and I am terrified of losing it. Those few weeks I spent without Ethan were miserable, and the thought of a random family member’s opinion undoing everything we’ve built is sending me into a panic attack.
“Breathe, sweetheart,” he says, pulling me into him and wrapping me in his arms. “I would walk away from those relationships, family or not, before I would ever let that happen. You have me.”
I blow out a breath and press my ear against his chest, letting the rhythm of his beating heart calm my nerves as my mind quiets, my brain finally catching up with the truths my heart realized months ago. I am exactly where I’m supposed to be.
Four months later
Bridget
The instructor says something to us in Italian, and it’s a struggle to follow her directions. Ethan surprised me with a trip to Italy for my birthday and arranged a private cooking class with a teacher from his culinary school.
It’s also been a year since we met, and I’m worried that Ethan plans to propose to me on this trip. Every time he kneels or squats, I wander off or find something to distract myself. I love this man, but I’m not in a hurry to get married. He either thinks I’m neurotic or nuts at this point.
Ethan moves behind me and takes my hands in his helping me knead the dough. “Like this, hellcat,” he whispers into my ear as a bolt of arousal zips through me. There is nothing sexier than when he takes charge and bosses me around in the kitchen.
My hands are clammy, and I struggle to use the right amount of pressure. “Are you sure this counts as this month’s recipe card?”
“It’s close enough. I remember skipping that card despite Nonna pushing it on me several times because I didn’t like all the veggies on the pizza and Nonna insisted we had to make the card exactly like it said. She didn’t do that with other recipes—we’d add shit all the time making up secret recipes—so I was convinced this recipe was her way of getting me to eat more veggies. Italians don’t put a lot of toppings on their pizza, but I didn’t find that out until I got to culinary school.”
“But the card said veggie pizza, and this is orzo–”
“Ortolana. Since the veggies are in the sauce instead of used as toppings, I’m counting it. We make our own rules,” he says, kissing my neck before moving away to stretch his dough.
____________
It’s the last day of our trip and I’m enjoying my doppio on the balcony. We’ve spent the last several days relaxing by the pool or the beach, strolling the streets, or fucking. He gave me the exact vacation I mentioned during truth or dare.
“Mmm, I want more of this,” Ethan says, coming up behind me as I lean against the rail of the balcony overlooking the water.
“More of what?”
“Days like this. Me and you, the views, no agenda.”
“Me too,” I agree, looking up at him and kissing his cheek.
“I have a surprise for you,” Ethan says as he pulls me into the villa.
Fuck, this is it, he’s going to propose.
Picking me up, he walks us into the kitchen and sets me down on the island, then drops onto his knees.
“What are you doing?” I ask with a tremble in my voice.
“Something you’ve wanted for a while now,” he says as he lifts my shirt and spreads my legs. Pulling my thong to the side, he licks along my inner thigh up to my now-drenched pussy.
Pausing over my clit, his breath tickles me as he says, “You wanted me to fuck you in a kitchen. We aren’t making any more meals in here before we leave, and we already paid a cleaning deposit for this place.”
His words are music to my ears, and I let out a sigh of relief when I realize he isn’t proposing but is finally giving me kitchen sex.
“Now be my good girl?—”
“In Italian,” I beg.
“Cazzo, ragazza,” he says before descending on my pussy, holding me to the counter, and eating me with a fervor he’s never shown, and this man has eaten me out a lot. My orgasm is all-consuming and hits quickly, drenching us both as I moan a string of curses.
“Hai un sapore così buono. Ora prendi il mio cazzo.”
The intensity in his eyes is overwhelming as slips down his shorts and pulls out his cock. He rips off my panties and pushes into me, his thick cock filling me almost to the point of pain, a good pain that quickly morphs into pleasure. “Fuck, Ethan. Yes. So good,” I moan.
“Fanculo, tesoro, ti amo così tanto.”
“I love you,” I moan, pulling him into a passionate kiss as my pussy tightens around him, squeezing him as his movements turn erratic and he clings to me, whispering in Italian.
This is exactly what I want, a lifetime of passionate moments with this man.
Ethan
“Where are all the peas?” Bridget shouts from the kitchen.
“On my dick,” I croak back with my legs propped up on the couch, frozen peas pressed against my crotch as I try to get comfortable.
It’s been a month since we got back from Italy. While we had an amazing trip, I noticed Bridget’s anxiety spiking quite a bit and realized she must have been worried I was going to propose. I know she loves me, but she is not the kind to rush into marriage, so I know I need to give her more time to come around to the idea. However, it was important to me that she knew how serious I was about her and our child-free life, so I got a vasectomy.
“Oh shit, was your appointment today?”
With Bridget preoccupied by another merger at work, I figured this was the perfect time to have it done since I wouldn’t see much of her and wouldn’t be distracted by thoughts of her perfect ass during recovery.
“Yup. Alyx took me. Gave me shit the whole time too.”
“Lemme guess, endless jokes about you being neutered?”
“It doesn’t help that you call me pup. I did flash him my balls after just to prove that they were still there. He did not appreciate that, but he shut up real quick.”
“You two are too much.” She laughs as she walks toward me, eyeing my makeshift ice pack. “We have many different options for ice, pup, you didn’t have to use all the peas.” She leans over me, her head upside down, as she kisses my forehead.
“But this doesn’t melt and make a mess,” I say, readjusting it on my junk.
“When can we…” she trails off, her voice a little breathy.
“Don’t, hellcat. Don’t use that voice on me right now,” I warn.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She knows exactly what she’s doing. “Just let me know if you’ve pooped yet,” she jokes.
“You’re never going to let me live that down, are you?” I groan. “I’m out of commission for about a week, which is why I planned this when you had a lot going on at work. Please don’t give me a boner right now, I’m a little afraid of what might happen,” I beg just as the doorbell rings.
“Saved by the bell.” She moves to answer it, swaying her hips as she goes. I have to look away and push the peas tighter against the ache in my groin.
“Emma! It’s so good to see you. Were we expecting you?” Bridget says as she pulls my oldest sibling into a quick hug, and then helps carry her bags into the kitchen.
“Ethan texted me saying he needed groceries,” she offers, but there’s a hint of sadness in my sister’s normally chipper tone and my hackles rise.
“I’m the worst girlfriend ever,” Bridget says as she moves around the kitchen putting items away. “I’ve been so consumed at work, I totally forgot his procedure was today.”
A sob bursts from Emma’s throat as she braces herself on the counter. I’m frustrated that moving is so uncomfortable right now and that I can’t get to her, when I see Bridget pull her into a hug. Bridget is not very affectionate with anyone other than me, and it tugs at my heart to see how much she’s grown since I first met her. I love this woman so goddamn much.
“Shhh, it’s okay,” Bridget soothes as Emma’s grip tightens on her. “I promise I’ll be a better girlfriend,” she teases as her fingers comb through Emma’s light-brown locks.
Emma’s shoulders shake, and I can tell that Bridget’s joke has eased some tension in her.
“What’s going on, Emma?” I ask, wincing as I push myself to sitting and swing my legs to the floor, attempting to stand.
“Let’s sit so he doesn’t try to hurt himself,” Bridget says as she ushers Emma onto the loveseat across from me.
“It’s nothing. Shoot, I’m sorry,” Emma sobs, wiping at her tears.
Bridget’s eyes connect with mine in a knowing look. “How about you hang with us tonight? We’re making migas from Nonna’s recipe cards. I’d never heard of it before, but Ethan showed me the ingredients, and it sounded delicious, like a Tex-Mex scramble. I’m assuming those groceries are the ingredients Ethan asked you to pick up for him?”
Emma nods as she continues swiping at her face.
“Then it’s settled. You and I will cook while Ethan bosses us around.”
“He’s good at being bossy,” Emma says as a hint of a smile crosses her lips.
“And maybe after we can pop on some face masks and watch a movie?” Bridget offers.
“Only if Ethan wears one too,” my sister agrees, smirking at me.
“Oh, he always wears one,” Bridget assures her.
“I do. We have a whole get-unready-with-me routine. I’ll even let you film me doing it if you want.”
It’s clear something is going on with my sister, and while she might not be ready to share, she knows we’ll be here when she’s ready to talk.
Five Months Later
Bridget
“Such a good fucking girl,” he whisper-growls as he pushes his cock deeper into my throat.
After a year and a half of blow jobs, and a lot of practice, I’m finally able to take almost all of Ethan’s cock, and I enjoy every second of turning him into a whimpering, whispering mess of a man.
It’s actually adorable to see the way his eyes light up then immediately roll back in his head as soon as my lips touch his skin, like he almost can’t believe this is real, that I’m real. And let me tell you what it does to my ego. I’ve always been a very sexual person, and after years of no-strings sex with men, I’m aware of the control I have over them when I’m between their knees. But Ethan is the first man to look at me with a reverent appreciation when I go down on him.
There’s a knock on the door, and I pause my movements and let Ethan answer since I have a mouthful.
“Occupied,” he grits out before cupping my cheek and tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ears.
“Hurry the fuck up, son ,” the voice bellows back as my eyes get wide and I look up at Ethan.
He cups my neck and pushes his cock deeper into my mouth as drool dribbles down my chin and tears prick my eyes.
“I’m coming, I’m coming,” Ethan manages to say with a somewhat normal tone, but he grabs the sink behind me and his knuckles turn white as I tug on his balls and run my finger further back. His breaths get shallow and quick before he is exploding in my mouth as I eagerly work to swallow every drop.
Ethan stuffs himself back in his pants and flushes the toilet, presumably to make it sound like he was using it, while I wash my hands. He nods to signal that he’s going to leave first and I stand behind the door to wait for the all-clear.
“Hey, Dad. It’s about time you showed up. We were supposed to meet thirty minutes ago,” he says as he closes the door behind him. Hank reached out a few days ago to meet up with us.
“Bridget, you can come out too.”
Shit. Is it possible to crawl into a hole and die of embarrassment? I thought I was too old to worry about getting caught by my boyfriend’s parents. It’s doubly worse that said parent is also my ex.
I slowly emerge into the hallway, and I can feel the blush heating my cheeks, but I refuse to speak first as Ethan wraps an arm around my waist and kisses my cheek.
“I’m not going to say anything about whatever you two were doing in there because you are two consenting adults,” Hank starts before Ethan interjects.
“Damn right you’re not. It’s none of your business.”
“Be that as it may, you are in my house.”
“Waiting over thirty minutes for you. I was beginning to think you weren’t going to show, and considering the way you treated my queen in the past, I’ll be damned if I let her wait around only to be disappointed by you again, so I took matters into my own hands. I don’t waste her time because it’s precious to me. She’s precious to me.”
The flush on my cheeks deepens as my heart melts at his words. This man has proven that he will choose me time and time again. He has protected me while still letting me stand up for myself. But the fact that he’s willing to call his dad out has my heart swelling in my chest.
The three of us stand there in awkward silence for a few beats as Ethan pulls me further into his side, his scent enveloping me and calming me.
“That’s fair. I’m sorry,” Hank says, breaking the silence. “Have you two eaten?”
“We had a pork roast earlier,” Ethan says, flashing me a dimple as I remember the sweet moments we shared making Nonna’s latest recipe card and the even steamier moments we shared after. “I think Bridget is more than satisfied.”
“Ethan!” I bury my face in his chest as he wraps his arm around me, holding me in place. While I am aware that Ethan is making this into a pissing contest, there is something oddly sweet about the way he is letting his father know where he stands with me every chance he gets.
Hank clears his throat, and I can hear him shift, obviously uncomfortable. “I called you here tonight because I need your help.”
Ethan’s muscles stiffen under my touch. “What’s going on? Is it serious? One of the girls?”
“No, it has nothing to do with them, or Ashley. Can we sit down and discuss this?”
“You’re scaring me,” Ethan says as he grips me tighter.
“No one is sick or dying. Jesus, I’m not good at this.” Hank sighs as he runs a hand through his hair and grips the back of his neck, as we follow him to the living room. He has a laptop set up on the coffee table, and Ethan and I take a seat on the couch opposite him.
The tapping of keys fills the silence as we wait for Hank to explain himself. There’s a look of desperation in his eyes as he turns the laptop around and gestures at it.
“What am I looking at?” Ethan asks, but as I stare at the screen, I immediately know where this is going.
“It’s a P acquisitions are a considerable part of my job, and helping him would cost me very little, but the payout it would afford his family would be worth it.
“I’ll help,” I croak out, my voice barely above a whisper as Ethan turns to me and cradles my face in his hands.
“Are you sure, sweetheart? You don’t have to do this.”
“Helping with this is about more than him. He could spend more time with your sisters and set them up financially,” I explain before turning to Hank. “That is, if Luther knew what he was doing with his books. I’ll need more than just a P&L. Do you have tax returns, a cash flow statement, and a balance sheet? What about debts the company might have?”
He turns the computer around and clicks the mouse, pulling up the requested items as he motions me over.
“Did Luther say why he wanted to sell?” I ask as I sit next to him and scroll through the documents.
“Just that he had another opportunity come along, and he wanted to pursue that.”
I click through all the financial documents and do some quick analysis. “Everything looks good. Expenses are low and the business is profitable, but there are a few debts to consider. You could mention those in negotiations. Based on his asking price, you could structure this as an asset sale, which would transfer everything over to you.”
“Would you be willing to help me through this process as an advisor? I would pay you, of course.”
I blow out a deep breath as I lock eyes with Ethan, and the warmth and love I see there encourages me. “I would be willing to discuss a business arrangement with you.”
We spend the next few minutes mapping out a plan for the buyout, and while it’s just a baby step, my chest warms at the thought that this is progress toward healing my hurt, and I’m optimistic about the implications for how this will impact my future with Ethan.
Three Months Later
Ethan
“I can’t believe this is our last recipe card,” Bridget sighs as she leans over to pop the chicken in the oven.
We’ve spent the last fourteen months cooking what’s left of Nonna’s recipe cards and in those months, Bridget’s flourished and grown, finally letting all her walls down. We’ve never been closer, and I’ve never been happier. This woman pulled me out of my grief, and together we’ve healed ourselves and each other. And I don’t want it to end.
“Actually, it’s not,” I retort as I swat her ass.
“Yes, it is, this is the last one,” she says, flipping through Nonna’s box until she pulls out the final card. Her brows furrow as she studies the ingredients on the card, and I see the confusion on her face when she realizes it’s not the same chicken dish we made.
She follows my lead when cooking like a perfect sous chef, so I’m not surprised she hasn’t looked at the recipe until now when she’s used to me bossing her around.
I reach into my back pocket and pull out the new recipe card and hand it to her face down. As she brings it close to her face, I pull the box out of my pocket and drop to my knee right as she reads the name of the dish we’ve prepared.
“Marry me chicken?” She questions and then her eyes lock with mine as she drops the card, and her hands cover her mouth.
“I want a lifetime of recipe cards with you, hellcat,” I tell her, taking her hand in mine. “Tonight’s recipe was the first in a long list of new recipes I want to make with you.”
“Ethan,” she whispers as a tear caresses her cheek.
“You’re my favorite book. Every chapter, every page, every fucking word of your story is a goddamn masterpiece, and I would be honored to be your person among the pages.”
“The king to my queen,” she offers.
“You’re it for me, Bridget. There’s not a chapter of my life that will ever feel complete if you’re not in it. Our story was meant to be written together, and I would be the luckiest man alive if you agreed to be my wife. Will you marry me?”
“Hell yeah, pup, I’ll marry you,” she says as I slip the ring on her finger and stand, pulling her into me before sealing my mouth over hers.
Two years ago, I was lost, not sure where my life was headed. I never would have imagined myself finding my soulmate in a dance club. Together, we’ve learned a lot about ourselves and each other, and I am thankful to have found my strength in Bridget. She is my home, my soulmate, and I can’t wait to see what life has in store for us. Together.