Chapter 22 Rafael #3
“Stop before you say ‘back in my day prices were reasonable’ or ‘I could get a candy or whatever for a nickel’ and all that shit.”
“Fuck you.”
I groaned. “You did that already." I twisted around, grinning at him as we made our way down the aisles.
The cart was already half full. "Unless you want to do it here?
I don't think I've ever been fucked at a grocery store.
" I moved closer, nearly touching him. Cesare stiffened slightly. "Want to be my first?"
His pupils dilated at my offer, and his tongue came out and swiped over his tempting lips. Lips that had been on me only moments prior to leaving the penthouse. I wanted them back on me. Now.
"Finish shopping, Rafael."
My name on his lips never failed to make my heart race. I turned around and went back to grabbing everything we could need. I picked a few choice meats and produce that wasn't one day away from rotting. Cesare was a steady presence that made me hyperaware and relaxed at the same time.
We moved around the store as a strange unit.
I could see the two of us grocery shopping if we'd been born to different lives.
How easy it would be for those versions of us to kiss and touch while shopping.
Instead of having that, I soaked in the pleasure it brought me having him so close and spending time with me.
I was bought for sex, but Cesare was doing a whole lot more with me than fucking.
By the time he finished and checked out, I was done for the day. Unlike clothes shopping, food shopping was draining. And the thought of going home to cook made my bones ache.
"We should go out to eat,” I said.
"I'm buying all this food and you want to eat out?"
"I don't make the rules here. After you go grocery shopping you get to treat yourself. Everyone does it."
The clerk nodded as if in agreement with me. I gestured toward him, hoping the grumpy old man agreed.
Cesare sighed.
"My treat." I headed out before he could challenge me on the offer, pushing the filled cart outside. Three men dressed in suits stood there, waiting on us. They stood out amongst the people moving around.
"They will take everything back to my place," Cesare said.
I didn't question him as I let the cart full of groceries go. We got into the back of the car, Rocky meeting our gazes the moment we got in.
"How was it?"
Cesare shrugged. "How the fuck do people survive nowadays?"
He chuckled, and I leaned over to the front, getting Rocky's attention. Cesare's hand rested on my ass. "Hey, can you take us here?" I showed him the place, and he muffled his laughter.
"Yeah, sure thing."
I sat back and scooted closer to Cesare until there wasn’t a gap between us. I held back the entire time we were at the grocery store, but here, in the safety of the car, there was no need.
"Where are we going?" he asked.
"The best Italian restaurant in the world."
He pulled his phone out and stared at it, and I took that opportunity for what it was. I rested my head on his chest. His fingers curled in the end of my hair and twisted the strands around. Peace settled in the middle of my chest, and I breathed out a sigh of relief.
The city passed us by. Luckily we were on the right side of town. It took us ten minutes to get to our destination. I was salivating to get some food in me. A distracted Cesare got out of the car, and I followed behind him.
The car door shut, and in a second, Rocky was peeling off. I didn't blame him. I tugged Cesare toward the restaurant. He was still glaring at his phone. We stepped through the doors and the bustle of people dragged his gaze up. He did a double take as we stood behind a line of people.
"Olive Garden?" Cesare blinked a few times before his brows dipped low. He twisted around as if he wasn't sure what he was seeing.
"They have the most authentic Italian food."
"I will kill you."
I played innocent, batting my lashes up at him. "What, why? I thought it would be nice. It's like a little taste of home." It was really hard not to laugh, especially at the horrified expression on Cesare's face.
He turned around as if to leave, but I grabbed his wrist.
"They even have spaghetti and meatballs. What's more Italian than that?"
"Keep talking, and I will drown you in the spaghetti."
"That is not an effective way to drown someone."
"Which one of us is the professional?"
I raised my hands in defeat. "Sure, but which one of us is the real Italian here? You didn't even know Olive Garden was the best Italian food."
His jaw tensed. "We're going home."
My thoughts stopped, all teasing aside. Home? Like my home? Because you're keeping me? I was so distracted that I blinked and the scenery had changed.
"Huh?" We were outside, the promise of bread sticks and endless salad gone. "Wait."
"Rocky, get your ass back here. I should skin you alive for this shit." Cesare hung up and glared ahead.
"What about food?"
"I'm going to show you real Italian food."
I laughed. “Ellie is on leave, who else is going to cook it?"
"Me."
"Where the fuck is Rocky? Think a cab will be faster?" Cesare, cooking for me? There wasn't anything I wouldn't give to see that.