20. Wolfe #2
It was nice to reclaim it.
She made dinner in the kitchen, chopping garlic on the cutting board, washing her basil, zesting her lemon, and preparing other ingredients before she started to cook the fish in the pan while the water boiled on the stove.
I was torn between wanting her not to do a bunch of work in the kitchen…
and wanting her cooking. The staff at the main house fed everyone throughout the day, and while it was great food, it just wasn’t Francesca’s.
Maybe I was biased and her food wasn’t remarkable at all, but it felt special to me. “Can I help?”
“No, I think I’ve got it.”
I leaned against the counter and crossed my arms over my chest as I watched her.
When she felt my stare, she met my look. “You’re just going to stare at me the whole time?”
“Yep.”
“I’m going as fast as I can.”
I smirked. “That’s not why I’m staring.”
She prepared dinner, managing different components without showing any stress. That was how she always was when she cooked, calm rather than anxious. She made a seafood risotto with prawns and swordfish with a side of sliced lemon.
I set the table and prepared the wine and sat down to a steaming plate of deliciousness.
“You didn’t look at a recipe once when you made this.
” I noticed she never checked her phone to see how much garlic or quantities of other ingredients she needed.
She either winged it or had it all memorized.
I took a bite of my food, and of course, it was amazing. “How do you do that?”
“You know that saying, cooking is an art, not a science?”
I stared at her as I chewed.
“Well, it’s an art. Once you understand the basics, you can kinda make it up as you go.”
“You make that sound easier than it really is.”
“Now, baking is a science, which is why I never bake.”
“I assumed that was because I don’t eat sweets.”
“No, just too frustrating.” She ate her dinner across from me, sipping her wine occasionally, the kitchen piled with dishes because we always did them after she ate instead of letting the food go cold when it was ready.
“You’re the perfect woman, you know that?”
Her eyes hesitated slightly when she heard what I said. “How so?”
“You can cook, you can fuck, you can heal, and you’ve got that mafia edge to you. Perfect combination.”
“Never thought about it that way.”
I continued to shovel the food into my mouth. Everything she made was exceptional. Whether it was pasta or chicken or seafood, she always nailed it. “I was really missing your cooking.”
She smiled. “Which is why I cooked tonight.”
“I feel bad putting you to work the day after our wedding.”
“I like cooking, especially for you,” she said. “When the dust has settled and Icarus is dealt with, we’ll go on a real honeymoon.”
“Where do you want to go?”
“I don’t know,” she said. “We’re already in the most beautiful place in the world.”
“What about Paris?”
“That’d be nice,” she said. “I’ve always wanted to go on safari…”
“We can do both.”
“Sounds like a long trip.”
“It’s our honeymoon,” I said. “It should be long.”
“I guess I could have Elio hold down the fort until I get back.”
“Yeah, I’m sure he can handle it.”
We finished our dinner until our plates were clean, and then we drank the rest of our wine.
I sat there and stared at her in the light of the candles, feeling a fullness to my heart that I couldn’t quite describe.
I’d never felt like anything was missing until I met her.
Didn’t feel depressed or empty. Never wanted for anything.
And then I found her…and I wasn’t sure how I’d lived that way for so long.
The next day, I walked down the hallway of the third story of the villa and approached Francesca’s open doorway.
She stood in front of the window with her back to me, talking to someone on the phone.
“I’ll see what I can do. You should hear from me before the end of the day.
” In her tight dark denim jeans with the brown leather holster visible over her shoulder and mixed with her hair, she was utterly fuckable.
I seriously wanted to fuck her all the time.
She ran her fingers through her hair as she turned back to the desk and tossed her phone on the surface. Her eyes lifted to me when she realized I was there. “Has your day been as shitty as mine?”
I smirked as I came closer to the desk. “A bit.”
We’d spent our two days together but then both returned to work.
We had our evenings together, but I missed waking up late with nothing to do except be with her.
I knew we’d have more time together in the near future.
I just had to be patient. “I moved the rest of our things into the house.” She’d had her things at my place in Palermo, and I returned it all to her closet here.
I’d also restocked the house with guns and ammo in case we needed it.
Then I started work on the wall that would protect our portion of the property so someone couldn’t just walk up in the dead of night and take us by surprise.
“Thank you.”
I nodded.
“Have you had lunch?”
“Nope.”
“I’m surprised you aren’t grouchier.”
“Oh, I am grouchy,” I said. “But you made me forget that when I walked in here, so…”
Her eyes softened.
I smirked at the way she melted for me.
“You want to take a lunch break?”
“Like at home?” I asked hopefully. “Just the two of us?”
She smirked. “I meant downstairs on the terrace.”
So, she wouldn’t be naked. “I guess that will do.”
We headed downstairs and grabbed lunch from the staff in the kitchen.
A tradition that Francesca didn’t even consider changing was offering food for everyone throughout the day.
Breakfast and lunch were always prepared, along with snacks.
So the workers had full stomachs every day.
Her father had always treated his workers like family, and he believed food was the best way to bring family together.
After we loaded our plates and took a seat on the terrace, my phone vibrated in my pocket. I fished it out before I glanced at the screen. “Don Russo. This should be good.”
Instead of digging into her food, she watched me.