Chapter 27
Austin
The scent of garlic hits me square in the nose when I walk inside. I stop for a second, breathing it in. Luca must be cooking.
Part of me wants to tell him he doesn’t have to, but I think he knows that by now. Which must mean that this is something he wants to do.
“I’m home!” I call out, not wanting to startle him as I slip my jacket off and hang it on the hook by the door.
A few seconds later, Luca comes out of the bedroom, headphones on and head bobbing to some song I can’t hear. I wait for him to look up and see me, and when he does, he pulls the headphone off with a breathtaking smile. “Oh. Hi. You’re home.”
“I am.”
He saunters across the room, swaying his hips a bit with each step. “Did you have a good day?” he asks, taking my hand and pulling me toward him.
“I did.”
His lips turn up into a smile, and I resist the urge to kiss him. Fuck, do I want to, though. “I made us dinner. I wanted to surprise you. I cleaned some. Nothing crazy, I promise. Made Alfredo.”
Wrapping my arm around his waist, I drag him to me, smiling when he lets out a quick breath, his smile growing. “Sounds delicious. Is there anything I can do to help?”
He raises himself on his tiptoes, bringing his lips so close to mine I can almost taste them. “You can give me a kiss.”
I chuckle breathlessly. “Is that helpful?”
“It’s helpful to me,” Luca whispers.
It’s pretty damn helpful to me too, so I close the minuscule difference between us and kiss him softly.
I’m never in a hurry with Luca. Never. Every single time he blesses me with his lips on mine, I want to savor it. I want to feel it deeper. Like if I kiss him long enough, I can use the magic of it to knit our souls together.
His hand lands on my chest, fingers clutching the fabric of my shirt, and I cup his face tenderly, caressing his smooth skin with my thumb.
He breaks the kiss by dropping from his tiptoes and smiles up at me. God. There’s a new lightness to him today. Something bright and ethereal and fucking gorgeous shining in the depths of his gray eyes.
They’re always stunning, but there’s something about them tonight that takes my breath away.
“What’s the occasion?” I ask.
“No occasion.” He pulls himself from my hold, then grabs my hands and leads me into the kitchen. “Well, okay, I guess a bit of one. I made my first car payment today.”
Pride blasts through my chest, not a slow trickle, but a flood, overwhelming me until it spills out and forces a smile to my lips. “Yeah? That’s so fucking amazing, Luca.”
“Yeah,” he says, like he’s just as proud of himself as I am. “So I stopped at the store and bought groceries, then made dinner.”
“Oh? Got our whole night planned?”
He stops, eyes going wide. “I don’t—if you don’t want… We can—”
I cut off his nervous ramble by grabbing him around the waist and hauling him to me. My lips find his on instinct, and as soon as they do, he practically melts in my hold.
When he whimpers low in his throat, I break the kiss. “It was just a question, baby. I’m so happy to just be here with you. No matter what we’re doing.”
“You really mean that, don’t you?” he whispers, letting all his weight go until I’m supporting him.
“God, with my whole heart.” For a few long moments, we stand together in silence, wrapped up in each other’s arms. “Okay, gorgeous. Let’s eat. Why don’t I make our plates, and we can sit on the floor at the coffee table?”
Luca sighs, stepping out of my embrace. “That sounds nice, but how about I make the plates?”
“Sure.” I smile at him. “How about I keep you company while you tell me about your day?”
Fear flashes in his eyes, there and gone so quickly I can almost convince myself I imagined it. “Okay, yeah. Let’s do it.”
While Luca plates up dinner, complete with homemade fettuccine noodles, he talks to me about his day. I can do little more than smile at him like a dope. Luca has always been expressive. Always. But there’s just something about him now that gets to me.
The spark is coming back.
Sure, sometimes he slow blinks like he’s caught in a nightmare, and sometimes he wakes up gasping for air before burrowing into my arms and falling back asleep.
But those days are happening less and less, and now?
Now it’s like he’s coming home. Not to a place, though.
To himself. He’s feeling safe in his own skin, and that’s worth more to me than almost anything else.
“I love you,” I blurt out, cutting him off in the middle of him telling me about how he almost couldn’t find fresh garlic.
He drops a piece of garlic bread, and it hits the floor as the words settle between us. Gray eyes latch onto mine, wide and terrified, but also relieved and… happy—so many emotions flashing in their depths.
His swallow is audible, his throat bobbing hard. “In, um… in what way?”
I rub the nape of my neck, cheeks burning. “In all the ways.” Luca’s lips part as he studies me. “You don’t have to say it back. Hell, you don’t even have to feel it. I just… I needed to say it, I guess.” Or at least my stupid-ass mouth sure thought so.
“I—” His eyes dart to the piece of dropped garlic bread, but only for a second, then they find mine. We stare at each other in silence as my heart pounds incessantly against my rib cage. “I… um. Love is kind of scary for me,” he whispers.
Fuck. I shouldn’t have said it. I know he’s not ready for that. But shit, I didn’t even really know I was going to say it, but I also can’t take the words back. Not with how much I meant them.
“I know,” I say, my throat clicking with a dry swallow. “You don’t have to explain yourself.”
He steps over the garlic bread and into my space. Panic lodges itself in my throat, but it doesn’t last because Luca grabs my hair in desperate fistfuls and drags me to him, slamming his lips onto mine.
The kiss isn’t like any we’ve shared yet. It’s raw and carnal. Pure need wrapped in aching tenderness, and I can barely contain the way it makes my heart swell and my pulse skyrocket.
When he breaks the kiss, it’s with a gasping inhale that I feel in my lower stomach. Our chests are heaving against one another with each ragged breath we take. “I believe you,” he chokes out. “I believe you.”
“Good,” I whisper in a rough voice.
“I believe you,” he says again. “I’m not ready, but I believe you.”
I close my eyes, thankful for that. Beyond thankful. I’m not sure how I would feel if he thought I was lying or that I didn’t mean it. I don’t know how I’d survive if he equated my love with lies and emptiness and the ache of disappointment.
When I open them again, Luca is crying.
Dammit. “I’m sorry. Are you okay?”
I want to take his pain away and make him feel better. I want to save him from the hurt. I want to—
An unreal smile stretches across his face, happiness sparkling in his wet eyes.
“I’m so okay. I didn’t mean to get all emotional.
” He drops his head forward, resting his forehead against my shoulder.
He makes a sniffly sort of sound, then laughs.
“God, I didn’t think I’d ever believe in love again. ”
My heart swells. I’m so incredibly blessed to have him and so fucking honored that I can be the one to prove to him that love is real. “Are you ready to eat?” I whisper, rubbing a hand up his back.
He nods against my shoulder, then stands up, pulling himself out of my embrace. His cheeks are still wet, so I brush my thumbs under his eyes, collecting the tears and wiping them away.
When we’re settled on the floor in the living room, we dig into our food. We eat in silence. It’s a content sort of quiet. The type that burrows into your bones and makes you feel safe, where just existing together is all you need.
“Is it good?” Luca asks, peering at me through his lashes.
I’ve easily demolished three-quarters of my portion. “It’s delicious. What’s the trick for the sauce? I’ve never had Alfredo like this.”
Luca’s cheeks turn pink. “I don’t like parmesan, so I use mozzarella instead. I think it makes a creamier sauce.” He shrugs. “I wasn’t allowed to make it this way with Damien because he always said it wasn’t a true Alfredo that way.”
Oh, fuck Damien. “It’s delicious, Luc. And hey, I always eat Alfredo from a jar, so it’s already leaps and bounds above that.”
His surprised giggle has my stomach doing somersaults. “Yeah, that’s tragic. Jar sauce is the worst.”
It is, indeed. But this? Fuck. I could get used to this.
“Hey,” Luca says, bringing my full attention back to him. “Would you be mad at me if I started packing a lunch for you on the days you work? I know you already do, but…”
I’m shaking my head before he’s even done speaking. “I wouldn’t be mad at all. I would probably start by asking for your motivation. Do you believe I’m owed a packed lunch?”
Luca shakes his head vehemently. “No! No, it’s not that at all. I just…” He shrugs. “I like doing it. It used to be my favorite. I enjoy taking care of people. Or… At least I did.”
I mull it over for a second. “Yeah, if you’d like to do that, I think that would be really nice.”
His head shoots up, eyes locked on mine. “Really?”
“If you want to. I’d appreciate it. Having a little reminder of you at work? Yes.”
Not that I really need a reminder, since Luca and his smile and his gorgeous, expressive eyes live in my brain on a constant loop. I don’t seem to have a single thought that doesn’t revolve around him.
“You… want reminders of me at work?” The question is whisper-soft, hope rising in his voice.
“Yes, baby.” I reach across the table, holding my hand out, and Luca glances at it before placing his in mine. “I want all the reminders of you.”
He stares at our combined hands for a second, then his lips curl up. “Okay. I’ll start packing you a lunch then. Or, I guess, a few of them. Meals. I’ll start packing you meals.”
I can’t help but chuckle. “Sounds perfect to me.”
Luca squeezes my hand, then removes his, picking up his fork and taking another bite.
When we’re finished with our meal, I’m so happy I could almost burst with it.
Luca tries to clear the table, but I stop him.
“Let me?” He’s giving it real thought, nibbling on his lower lip.
I can tell it’s important to him, but I don’t want him to think it has to be all on him. “What was Ma’s rule?”
“Fine,” he grumbles with an eye roll. “You win.”
He drops the plate back onto the table, and I pick it up, smiling to myself as I take them both into the kitchen. Ma’s rules were simple. If you cooked, you don’t clear the table or do the dishes.
Luca’s still sitting on the floor when I make my way back into the living room. I step up beside him, and when he looks up at me, I hold a hand out. “Dance with me?”
“There’s no music.”
I shrug. “So we’ll make our own.”
His bright laughter makes me smile. “You gonna serenade me again?”
“You gonna let me?”
He eyes me for a second, then places his hand in mine, letting me pull him to his feet. I move us away from the coffee table. “Wait just a second.”
After turning off the lights, I lead him over to where the fireplace is. The flames are casting a red and orange glow on his gorgeous face, and I can’t resist leaning in to steal a quick kiss.
Looping an arm around his waist, I haul him closer, tucking his body against mine. His head finds my chest, and he wraps an arm around my shoulder, then takes my free hand with his.
Our bodies move slowly, but like he said, there’s no music. I did promise to make us some, though.
I close my eyes, soaking in the feel of him in my arms, and start singing the words to I Can Love You Like That.
I keep my voice low, damn near whispering the words in his ear as we sway gently back and forth, the firelight our only other companion. He giggles when I change the words from “move heaven and earth if you were my girl” to “move heaven and earth if you were my boy.”
I smile, continuing to sing to him as we rock back and forth. He sighs, his body going loose as he lets me spin him around the living room. There’s no real rhyme or reason to the dance moves, but I’m enjoying the hell out of it anyway. In fact, I love it. So fucking much.
I’m halfway through my third song when Luca sighs. I stop singing. “You okay?”
He nods. “Will you take me to bed?”
“Are you tired?” I ask softly.
Our dancing comes to a halt as he blinks up at me with wide pupils. His tongue comes out to swipe his bottom lip. “No.”
Oh. “Okay.” I nod. “Yeah, I’ll take you to bed.”
Luca tightens his grip on my hand, leading me from the living room and into our bedroom. He backs up close to the bed, locking eyes with me as he slowly works his clothing off his body, leaving them in a pile at his feet.
His cock is hard, jutting up toward his stomach, and I’m not really sure how I missed that in the living room. Fuck, he’s so gorgeous.
I strip down, then walk to him and urge him onto the bed. Covering his body with my own, I worship him the same way I do every time I’m afforded this opportunity. Kissing his throat, dragging my tongue along his collarbones, sucking on his nipples until he’s crying out and arching against me.
I go lower, wrapping my lips around the leaking head of his cock and slipping my tongue under his sensitive crown.
Fingers tangle in my hair, pulling until I realize that Luca’s trying to get me back up to him. I oblige, sinking against his body and settling my lips on his.
He rolls his hips, dragging his cock along mine, making both of us moan into our kiss. “Like this?” I whisper against his lips.
“Yeah, like this,” he whispers back, cupping my ass cheeks and forcing me to thrust against him.
It’s mind-numbing and mind-blowing and perfect. Heat and happiness and joy all rolled into one. It’s love and passion and fire.
I rock against him, meeting each roll of his hips until sweat is slicking our skin and we’re coming, a perfect crescendo to the building love I have for him in my chest.
Until we’re trembling and on the verge of overstimulation.
Until our hips finally slow, and our kisses trail off into nothing but our lips resting on each other’s.
Until I can’t tell where my breaths end and his begin.
Until he’s dozing off, falling asleep with my weight pressing him into the mattress.
I roll off him long enough to grab my shirt from the floor to wipe us both down, then I tug the blankets up over us and wrap him in my arms.
My Luca. Home. In my arms. Where he belongs.