Chapter Thirteen #2
“If he’s dealing with you, yes,” Luca said dryly. “I hope you don’t mind, I think Dario and Gabe have just commandeered your espresso machine to keep this brood caffeinated.”
Rocco just shrugged. He knew how much the Morettis loved their espresso.
“Let me know what I can help with,” Oliver said. “Do you need me to—”
“Yes. A few batches of scones? I use your recipe, of course. And get the sweet dough mixed up for chai rolls?”
“Got it,” Oliver said. “I’m sure I’ll find everything well-organized.”
Rocco threw his arms around him, hugging his friend tightly. “Thanks. Someone taught me well. I’ll join you in a minute?”
Oliver grinned. “Maybe ten minutes.”
Rocco winced and then nodded, taking his mom’s hand and leading her over to where Taylor was still leaning up against the back counter. He didn’t look apprehensive at all, only interested.
“Mom, Dad, this is Taylor. Taylor’s the deputy mayor of Christmas Falls, and uh . . .” Rocco hesitated, but Taylor tilted his head, smiling, like he was very curious what Rocco was about to say. “And my boyfriend.”
Taylor’s smile made it clear that Rocco had said exactly what he’d hoped he might.
“It’s so lovely to meet you, and a politician! Well.” Beatrice looked thrilled. “I don’t suppose you’re Italian in the bargain.”
Taylor grinned, extending his hand to shake, but Dante pulled him in for a hard hug, instead. Taylor just went with it, hugging Bea right after. “Sadly, no. I’m sorry.”
“That’s alright, Rocco has enough hot blood for both of you,” Bea said.
“I think he’s just perfect the way he is,” Taylor said, wrapping an arm around Rocco’s shoulders. He nudged him. “Do you need help with any of the baking? I’m not much of a cook, but I can follow directions.”
“No, no, Oliver’s already in there, probably revolutionizing the way I organize my spices. He’ll help. And after this lot is caffeinated and fed, Luca will get them out.”
“Alright. I can stay to help, if you want . . .”
“No, no,” Rocco said. Pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. Ignored the ooohing and ahhhhing from the gathered Morettis. “You do what you need to do. We’ll meet up later?”
“You sure you can?” Taylor eyed the group with a bit of trepidation.
“Yes,” Rocco said firmly. “We’ve got a lot to talk about.”
“And not talk about,” Taylor teased.
“Well, I think Oliver’s got you pretty well situated,” Luca said from across the bar as Rocco finished up a latte and a cappuccino, placing them on the counter and calling the name on the ticket.
“More than well situated. The man’s a genius. Also threw some ham and cheese hand pies in that sold out basically the minute he put the tray in the case. I’ll be adding those to the regular menu.”
“That’s my husband for you,” Luca said warmly. “But really, because you haven’t been asked enough times already this morning, how are you doing?”
“Good,” Rocco said firmly. “And surprised.”
Luca grinned. “You really weren’t expecting us to descend en masse? It’s your first Christmas away from your family, and on top of that, we did miss you.”
“I missed you guys too.” He hadn’t even realized how much until they were all here, so bright and vibrant in their inherent Moretti-ness. Talking over each other and hugging and laughing and teasing. Sharing a new recipe. Congratulating each other on another great year in the restaurant business.
They were a force. A wild, slightly insane force, but a force nonetheless, and he loved them.
“A lot of them are very excited about the festival events, so I’m sure we’ll see you, but for the most part, we’re not going to be in your hair twenty-four seven. I promise.” Luca shot him a grin. “You’re welcome.”
“How did you manage that particular miracle?”
Oliver emerged from the kitchen doors, wiping his hands on a paper towel.
“When he heard the plan to descend on you for Christmas, Luca found the festival flyer and emailed it to everyone. Told them to pick four events they couldn’t miss.
” Oliver kissed his husband. “Would you believe me if I told you there’s a color-coded spreadsheet? ”
“Yes,” Rocco said. Because that sounded exactly like Luca. “So what’s on the docket this afternoon?”
“I think most of us are heading to the brew and cider fest this afternoon, so if you’d like to join us, you’re free to. Or . . .” Luca waggled his eyebrows. “You can always spend time with your very attractive boyfriend instead.”
Rocco remembered, a few years ago, when Luca had been incapable of jokes. Or smiling. Or generally human behavior.
Oliver had not only done wonders for Rocco’s kitchen, but Luca’s humor.
“I think maybe I can work out a bit of both.”
“And then there’s the Santa Crawl tonight,” Oliver said with excitement. “I know my mom and Giana are wanting to come with us to that. Enzo and Will, too.”
Luca groaned a little, but he was still smiling. He’d used to herd Morettis because he felt obligated too. Now Rocco thought he did it mostly because he loved them.
“Well, have fun with that. I’ll already be tucked in bed,” Rocco said.
“And not alone either, I’d guess,” Ren said, sauntering over. “You guys staying or heading out? Seth and I wanted to get some breakfast at this Snowflake Shack.”
“Are you taking anyone?” Luca said. “Remember the group chat. I don’t want anyone getting left behind.”
Ren gave Luca an ironic salute. “No, sir, yes, sir, we’re taking Gabe and Sean. And uh . . .oh, Nicoletta too. And Matteo.”
Luca rolled his eyes. “Don’t lose them, okay?”
“Would I ever, sir?”
Luca smacked Ren in the arm, but he hadn’t stopped grinning the whole time.
“You are a pain in my ass, Lorenzo,” Luca said.
“And you love it,” Ren retorted back teasingly.
Luca sighed. “God help me, I think I do. But you’re going to be okay here?” He directed this question to Rocco.
“Golden. I’ll text you later. Taylor and I will probably meet you at the brew and cider fest.”
“Sounds good.” Luca reached out and pulled him in, grasping him close. “It was good to see you, little cousin.”
Taylor did something from eight to two, he didn’t know what it was, but it had to be something.
When his watch finally read 1:55, he looked around and realized he’d scoured the kitchen and the bathroom until they shone, dusted and vacuumed, and done several loads of laundry which he’d actually folded and put away.
Meredith had given him several very grumpy looks, probably because for Taylor, Sundays were usually for relaxing on the couch, football on the TV, and maybe he might fit a few chores in, during halftime and between games. But in the fall and winter, Sundays were for nothing.
But this Sunday it felt like his whole life had changed.
Rocco had told him he loved him. He’d met Rocco’s parents—well, not just his parents, what felt like his whole extended family. And like Rocco had said, they were a lot. Noisy, boisterous, but so full of kindness and love, like Rocco himself, he’d found himself very much enjoying them.
“Things are going to be changing around here,” he told Meredith as he got dressed. She meowed back, clearly unamused and unmoved by this proclamation.
“Hey,” he told her, “you got used to Rocco. You even like him now. You wouldn’t sleep on him if you didn’t. I know exactly how that works.”
Meow.
“Well, you might want to make yourself scarce later, because we’re definitely going to be searing your eyeballs with all this I love you sex we’re going to be having tonight.”
Meoooooow.
“Yeah, you’re gonna have to deal with the imposition. Sorry.”
Meredith shot him a look from her blue eyes that spoke volumes. You’re not very sorry, at all.
And he wasn’t.
At all.
After scooping out Meredith some kibble as an apology, he put on his coat and scarf and took off towards Jolly Java.
On Sundays, Rocco usually closed about two or two-thirty, depending on how busy they were, and it was maybe a little bit selfish, but Taylor was happy when he pulled the door open to find that the coffee shop was quiet.
Rocco was leaning against the counter, next to the register, typing on his laptop.
He looked up and Taylor was struck again by the way Rocco looked at him.
The way he’d been looking at him for awhile now.
Now he knew that look was love.
His heart clenched.
And the words, which had felt so trapped before, wanted to burst right out of him.
“Hey,” Rocco said. “I was just getting ready to—”
“I love you, too.” Taylor hadn’t been able to keep it in a minute longer. He’d had some pipe dream about waiting until they were alone, until he could try his best to make it as romantic a declaration as possible.
But maybe that didn’t matter at all, because Rocco practically ran around the edge of the counter and just jumped into Taylor’s arms. “I love you, so much,” he murmured into Taylor’s ear, and nothing had ever felt so right.
Then Rocco bit gently on his earlobe and murmured, “Rebecca offered to clean up and close today, because my family’s in town. So we can go upstairs right now, if you want. I have to take a shower, but—”
“I’m happy to get you as dirty as possible before getting you clean again,” Taylor finished.
Rocco beamed at him.
“I thought,” he confessed as they walked up to Rocco’s apartment, “that maybe they all might have scared you away. You know, with their Moretti-ness.”
“Hardly,” Taylor scoffed. “They’re a bit noisy, yes, and excitable, but they all mean well. They’re good people, your family. Not that I ever thought they could be otherwise.”
“I can’t believe they all just showed up, for Christmas,” Rocco said, unlocking the door. “I knew I missed them, but I didn’t even realize how much until they were all in my coffee shop.”
“Of course you did,” Taylor said.
Rocco shot him a look as they headed towards the bathroom. “Is that how you and your dad are?” he asked.
Taylor supposed he should have expected the question, especially with how close Rocco was with his own family.
“Sort of, I guess. I do see him. But he’s always so busy during the holidays, on all these committees, that I don’t want to push him to come out. I’ve got a family here, too. Trust me, I’m never alone on Christmas.”
“No, you won’t be,” Rocco agreed. “Come on, let’s get me all clean.”
“Dirty first,” Taylor insisted and lifted Rocco’s T-shirt off, tossing it onto the bathroom floor and then tugging his jeans down next.
It felt so right to follow them down to the floor, pressing a palm against Rocco’s bare chest, feeling his heart begin to beat faster, his cock hardening as Taylor leaned in and gave it an experimental lick.
Rocco’s hands buried in his hair, and the look of pure bliss on his face as Taylor let his dick slide between his lips was all Taylor ever wanted to see.
“God, you’re so good at that,” Rocco groaned as he took him deeper, sucking him hard.
Taylor’s own cock was a hard, pulsing line in his jeans and it was usually easy to push his own desire aside so he could make Rocco feel good, but he wanted him too badly, wanted to be so close to him he couldn’t even remember where he left off and his man began.
He wanted to be buried so deeply inside him, giving them both everything they craved until there was no way they could mess this up.
“I’m good at other things too,” Taylor murmured, sliding a spit-slick finger up, circling Rocco’s hole. “I was thinking of bending you right over here, making you sob with it, but maybe instead . . .on the edge of the counter so I can see you. When your eyes go blurry with pleasure like that . . .”
“Yes, God, that, yes, yes, yes,” Rocco chanted. Fumbled in a drawer in the vanity and pulled out a bottle of lube. “Come on. Get in me.”
Even as desperate as he was, Taylor wasn’t ever going to be careless. He took his time, pressing one long finger inside Rocco’s heat and then another until Rocco was babbling and swearing, trying to fuck himself on his hand.
“You’re gonna make me come,” Rocco cried out. Like that was a bad thing. And it wasn’t. Not even close. But Rocco couldn’t come, not until he was inside him. Buried all the way inside.
“Condom?” Taylor asked, voice rough as he helped Rocco up onto the counter.
“I was tested about six months ago,” Rocco said, the corner of his mouth tilting up.
“And you know, it’s been forever for me. There . . .” Taylor tipped his forehead against Rocco’s as his legs wound around his waist. “There was never anybody I wanted to take that risk for. But you? You’re another story.”
“A new page?” Rocco teased, his lips nipping at Taylor’s mouth.
“A whole new book,” Taylor said, exhaling hard as he slicked up his cock and then lined up.
Rocco gasped as he slid inside, and Taylor was pretty sure that very undignified groan echoing in his own head was from him.
“Kiss me,” Rocco groaned and Taylor did, locking them together every way he could, tongue delving into his mouth, loving the sugar-spice flavor on his tongue and the way Rocco’s body pulled him inside, the hot clench of him, but more than anything loving the man.
It was amazing and overwhelming and Taylor knew no matter how much he tried to make it last, he couldn’t.
“God, yes, move please,” Rocco pled, and Taylor did his best, thrusting hard, his knees buckling at the waves of pleasure cresting through him.
Reaching between them, he wrapped his fingers around Rocco’s cock and tried to jerk him with the same rhythm, even though his own was highly compromised.
But that didn’t seem to matter, because a minute later, Rocco was crying out, clenching around him, and he was following him right over the edge.
Taylor had never had a lot of sex, but the sex he had had, had never felt like this before.
Like he was being emptied out and filled up, all at the same time.
But he wasn’t alone. Because Rocco’s head slumped onto his shoulder and he murmured into his skin, “We need to do that a hundred more times. A thousand. It’s never . . .never . . .”
“I know,” Taylor agreed.
“A whole new book,” Rocco mused. “That seems about right.”
And even though he was on new footing, it felt fine—better than fine, it felt fucking incredible, in fact—because they were both there together.