Chapter Nine
She should slap that stupid grin right off his pretty face.
And there was no doubt in her mind that if any other man had dared to do what he just did, she would have.
But it was him, and his directness took her by surprise.
“Do you wanna fuck?”
Matthew McCready wasn’t wrong. It pissed her off he got it right. She did come here to see him. And embarrassed he saw through her ruse, Gina tucked her tail and took off, only to turn around and come back again. God, how in the fuck did her brothers convince her to do this?
She didn’t ask for their help. Truly. On a whim, Gina texted Sara, and they made plans to go see a movie.
Rossi’s Pizza stayed open until midnight on Saturdays, but the bakery closed at eight.
Her sister-in-law would have something to do until Nick got off work, and Gina?
She was just happy to be getting out of the house.
Brothers are evil creatures.
They pounced on her.
“Gina Bobina,” Luca crooned. “I need you to do me a favor.”
“What?”
“Take a delivery for me.” While batting his long, thick lashes that no boy had a right to have, his lips quirked into a devious grin. “Please?”
Nick was with him, and that alone should have told her he was up to something. He stood there, an arm dangling over Luca’s shoulder, his tongue tucked into his cheek.
“Sorry, Luca Bobuca. Me and Sara are about to head out.”
“C’mon, sorella, please?” He pressed his hands together like he was praying. “Kev scored tickets to the Cubs game, but I gotta leave now if I’m gonna make it. It’s one pizza, and it’s only a few blocks away. You’ll be back in ten minutes.”
“Help the kid out, Gi.” With a lift of his chin, Nick put his arm around his wife. “I’ll help Sara close up.”
“Okay, fine, but you owe me.”
“You can thank me later.” His grin triumphant, Luca dropped the pizza box in her hands and kissed her cheek. “Love you.”
Then she glanced at the delivery ticket taped to the box.
McCready. Park Place.
“Luca,” she screamed, running after him.
But he was already gone.
Her lips pressed together, Gina stomped her foot on the linoleum floor and glanced over at her brother. “There’s no Cubs game tonight, is there?”
“Nope.” Laughing, Nick shook his head. “Don’t get all pissy now. Luca’s doin’ you a favor.”
“Oh, yeah?” She glared at him, her vision narrowing. “How do you figure?”
“I saw Matt just the other day, babe.” And stepping into her personal space, Nick bopped her on the nose with his finger. “He was here looking for you.”
“Yeah, he’s been a committed cannoli customer for months now,” Sara said, bolstering her husband. “Every Thursday morning, like clockwork, though I talked him into zeppole the other day.”
“So? It doesn’t mean anything.”
“Yes, it does.” Excitedly, her sister-in-law nodded. “It means he’s interested.”
“You take the delivery, Nick.” Gina tried to push the box into her brother’s hands. “I can’t go looking like this.”
“Why not?” With a dismissive wave, he took a step back. “You were gonna go to the movies looking like that.”
“Never mind him,” Sara said, and giving Nick a stern look, she took out her purse. “You’re gorgeous. Let’s take your hair down, put a little gloss on those lips, and you’ll be good to go.”
“Yeah?” Gina looked at her older brother.
He nodded his approval.
“Yeah.” And smiling, Sara fixed her hair. “Hurry now, before the pizza gets cold.”
So, here she was, standing on the front porch of a rock star, watching him suck her bodily fluids from his finger.
“I’d say you like me a helluva lot.”
Holy cannoli, what am I supposed to say to that?
“Do I now?” To appear non-committal, or maybe to protect herself, she wasn’t sure which, Gina crossed her arms over her chest.
A faint smirk curved his mouth. Matt came closer, and running his nose alongside hers, he inhaled. “The attraction is definitely there, so yeah.”
“Don’t flatter yourself.” Flipping her hair behind her shoulder, Gina shook her head and looked at the ornate light fixture on the porch ceiling.
He cupped her cheek, bringing her gaze back to him. “I’m not, and you know it.”
His eyes held her there. She couldn’t look away. What in the hell was he after?
“I know you’re used to women worshipping you at your feet, but you’re dead wrong if you think I’m ever going to be one of them.”
“That’s too bad. I’d love to see you on your knees,” he said, and licked his lips. “It isn’t what I want, though.”
“What do you want, then?”
Matt leaned in, and warm breath tickled her ear. “To earn the privilege to worship you at yours.”
She felt his words. Right where he meant for her to.
“Oh, yeah?”
“Yeah.” His hands on her arms, Matt pulled her to his chest and smiled. “I like you, and all I want is the chance to get to know you better, so can we start over?”
Gina shrugged, because how could she say no to that smile of his?
She couldn’t.
“What are you doing tonight, Gina Rossi?”
“Going to the movies with my sister-in-law.”
“Change of plans, bunny.” His palms ran down her skin, leaving goose bumps in their wake, to squeeze her forearms. “I’ve got a delicious pizza waiting in the kitchen. We’re gonna talk and you’re gonna watch a movie with me right here.”
“Think so, do you?” She found it difficult to breathe when he was this close. Gina put a modicum of space between them.
“I know so.” He hooked his arm around her waist and drew her toward the door. “C’mon.”
“Fine,” she said, and crossing the threshold, Gina looked at him. “But I won’t be having sex with you.”
“Why not?”
Good question.
She should want to, right? There were probably a million other girls who’d sell their souls to be in her shoes right now, but something told her to tread carefully with Matthew McCready.
“I’m kidding.” He chuckled, fingers gripping into her hip. “No fucking, okay?”
“Okay.”
“I won’t take what hasn’t been offered. But once you give it to me, fully, and with intention…”
Pausing at the threshold, she glanced at him.
Dark eyes gleaming in the lamplight, his mouth curved into a smirk so subtle she thought perhaps she’d imagined it.
“… you won’t need to think at all.”
Gina looked around his fancy house as Matt led her down the hall.
To her right was a formal living room, judging by the look of it.
She spied an oriental rug on the polished wood floors.
Leather furniture draped with throws of fur.
Avant-Garde artwork on dark-painted walls.
An antique record player. A mirrored disco ball?
It worked, though. She wasn’t sure what she expected, but it wasn’t this. His tastes were an eclectic mix.
After passing a couple of closed doors, the hallway opened into a great room with a chef’s dream of a kitchen on one end and a more comfortable-looking TV room on the other. A row of glass doors opened up to an outdoor terrace and a tree-laden back garden beyond.
The pizza sat on a slab of quartz with cobalt and copper veining. “It’s probably cold by now.”
“That’s all right. I can eat pizza right out of the fridge.”
“Three seventy-five.” Gina set the temperature on his high-end, pro-style gas oven. “Five minutes should do the trick.”
“Wine?” Matt offered, glancing at her from over his shoulder after he popped the pizza in.
“Sure.”
He opened a liquor cabinet, and fingering a bottle of Ripasso, Matt skipped it, opting for the Sangiovese instead. He poured them each a glass. “Cheers.”
“Salute.” She clinked her glass with his and took a sip. “You must do a lot of cooking in here.”
“Nope.” His chin dipping, Matt shook his head. “I know it looks like I would, but I order out mostly. Every night, I open up Uber Eats and ask myself what country’s cuisine I want for dinner.”
“But…”
The delights she could create in here. What a waste of a glorious kitchen.
“A very close friend of mine designed the renovations on this place.” A sheen appeared in his eyes.
Then he blinked, and it was gone. “His wife and Tay’s helped me choose what appliances to put in.
Look, I’m a simple guy. I can grill a steak and shit, but why bother when it’s just me, ya know?
Still, the girls insisted I needed all this stuff, and said I’d thank them for talking me into it someday. ”
“I’d say they chose well.”
“I’m glad you approve,” he said, and took the pizza out of the oven, carrying it over to the coffee table, along with the bottle of wine. “Maybe one evening you can help me make use of it.”
“Maybe,” she said, sinking into his fluffy cloud sofa. There was no doubt in her mind that the piece was authentic Restoration Hardware.
Matt handed her a slice of pizza on a plate and cozied up beside her. “So, tell me all about you, Gina Rossi.”
“What is it you want to know?”
The question was too broad, not that she knew how to answer it, anyway. He already knew her family, where she grew up—all the mundane facts people usually spout off when asked about themselves.
“Everything, pizza girl.”
“That’s not my actual job. I’m an RN—labor and delivery.” Glancing over at him, Gina blew on her pizza before taking a bite, and the corner of his mouth ticked up. “You knew that already, didn’t you?”
“Sara told me,” he confirmed with a nod. “Do you love what you do?”
“I love it but hate it too.” She washed her pizza down with the heady, dry red. “I’m sure that doesn’t make any sense.”
“Enlighten me.” His palm settled on her arm, fingertips caressing her skin.
“I love my job; the hours not so much.” Gina put her plate on the table, and turning toward him, she attempted to explain. “I work night shift. Every other weekend. Holidays. Overtime. I thought once nursing school was over, I’d get to have a life again, but I was wrong.”
“What do you do when you’re not working? Besides making cannoli and delivering pizza, that is.”
“Catch up on sleep, mostly.” She winced. Good one, Gina. “And sometimes, I pick out a book to read in the park.”
“Pick out a movie and lay your head right here,” he said, patting his sculpted bare chest.