Chapter 11 #2
She grinned at us and pushed the chairs back in place. “I'll go grab some new ones. Do you guys want anything? Drinks?”
Nick brought my hand up to his mouth and kissed it. “Carlo brought up some wine. I'll get us started.” He pushed back his chair and stood to deal with that.
I sat here, my head still spinning with visions of what had just transpired in this kitchen—and wondered why the heck nobody had a problem with it.
At all.
And then I wondered why the heck I didn't have a problem with what had just gone on.
Was there something wrong with me?
If so, then there was—definitely something wrong with these people.
Stefan let go of Giselle, and they shared one more sweet kiss before he walked over to Eve. She was digging through a drawer, and his hand landed on her lower back. She looked up and smiled at him. Stefan leaned in and—kissed her, too.
Not just a quick peck.
Nope.
Definitely tongue.
They didn't proceed into a full-blown make-out session. One kiss. And then he and Nick discussed the wine situation.
A bottle or two were opened. And Stefan brought over two glasses in his hands. He sat beside me, where Nick had been.
“You good?” he asked and took a quick sip of the white sparkling wine in his glass. His eyes glided over my face—and then to my chest.
“I'm fine,” I said, my pitch a little too high.
Stefan chuckled and leaned into my ear to whisper, “Your face is flushed.
Your lips are plump and swollen. Your nipples are hard.
And you can't seem to catch your breath.” The tip of his nose dragged up the side of my face.
“And I can smell the desire on you, Francesca.” He took a deep inhale and held it, like I was a glass of wine or something.
“And it's turning me on so much, I want to drag you upstairs and fuck that wet pussy of yours.” His lips touched my cheek.
“And yes, I know exactly how wet you are right now.”
Stefan sat back and nodded to the wineglass he brought over for me. “Drink. Tell me if you like it or not.” He changed the subject on a dime—like he hadn't just been talking about taking me upstairs and—
“The steaks are burned,” Carlo announced, walking in with a platter full of steaks in one hand and salmon in the other. “I'm blaming Eve for it. The fish made it through, though.”
Eve gasped and said, “That was not my fault! You picked me up and dumped me on the table,” she said with a laugh.
Carlo set the plates on the table and smiled at me. Then he turned and walked straight to Eve. “Yes, but if you weren't so beautiful, I wouldn't have burnt the steaks.”
She laughed and watched him as he approached her. They embraced, and Carlo dipped her backward in dramatic fashion while he kissed her. When he stood them back up, he said, “Definitely your fault.”
Eve's hand tenderly touched the side of his face.
Nick and Giselle had both observed what they were doing. My poor brain was so muddled at the moment.
But the delicious smell of the steaks rose up into my nose. Some of them definitely had more char on them than others. That didn't bother me. Steak was steak. You could always cut away any burnt bits.
The salmon steaks looked incredible. Like they belonged on a cooking magazine or something. He'd also set a bunch of grilled asparagus on the platter that looked perfect.
I hadn't eaten asparagus that many times. And when I did buy it, it was always the frozen kind. It only very rarely went on sale, though. That was why we stuck with the regular, cheaper vegetables.
A few more minutes—and the table was filled with food. And chatter. And laughter.
Being here with these people felt like one big, continuous warm hug.
After we ate, Eve brought out what was left of Carlo and Giselle's wedding cake and cut off slices for us.
“I saved the top tier and labeled it in the freezer for you. On your first anniversary, you take it out to celebrate,” Eve instructed Giselle as she handed out small dessert plates, each with an enormous piece of cake on it.
“Just don't do what we did—” Eve glared over at her husband, “and put an entire tray of lasagna on top.”
Nick tilted his head to the side in his trademark manner and said, “You asked me to put it in the freezer. So, I put it in the freezer.”
Eve looked at me. “Don't let them put things away in your freezer. They don't pay attention.”
Giselle wiped the icing off her lip and said, “Stefan pays attention. Carlo,” her head bobbled from one side to the other, “sometimes. But Nick.” She gazed over at Nick.
“Nick really doesn't get it. He once put a frozen, twenty-pound turkey on a tray of cupcakes I was flash freezing.” She shook her head.
“It didn't end well.” Her voice trailed off as she sighed.
“For the cupcakes? Or Nick?” I asked. Stefan grinned and offered me a forkful of cake. I immediately let him slip it between my lips.
“For either of them,” Giselle responded, and we all laughed.
Including Nick.
“See, Francesca? This,” Nick's hand motioned to his friends, “is what I get for doing what I'm told.” He winked at me—and just that one wink made my lower belly clench.
Hard.
Good grief.
After cake and more wine—we moved out into the backyard. Referring to this as a backyard seemed ridiculous, though.
Carlo had an entire vineyard as far as the eye could see. That was definitely not your typical backyard.
We sat for a while until Stefan whispered into my ear, “Want to go for a walk?” His warm breath on my neck made me all shivery.
I nodded, and he helped me up. “We're going for a stroll.” Everyone smiled at us. “We might hang out in the rec room after.” He looked straight at Nick—and no one else.
Nick smirked at him.
And then at me. His eyes traveled down my body. “I look forward to it.”
Then Stefan whisked me away. He led me down the small hill that led to the vineyards.
“We haven't had much time to ourselves since we arrived,” Stefan said, his hand squeezing mine. It was a beautiful evening. Not even a breeze to speak of.
“It's been busy. But good. Really, really good. I'm glad Carlo and Giselle got married,” I said, and I meant it. For a couple of reasons. First, because it was what Giselle wanted. Now, anyway.
And secondly, because when she found out that her husband was sleeping with her best friend—Giselle would be well taken care of. Financially, anyway.
“I don't know how you worked your magic on them.” Stefan chuckled and shook his head. “But you did. Somehow, you managed to get them married in twenty-four hours. And the rest of us have been trying to do that forever.”
I shrugged and answered back, “It wasn't me. It was Carlo finally making the decision to move forward.” I smiled up at Stefan. “And they haven't fought once. In over a day.”
He laughed, and his eyebrows rose. “Definitely a large benefit.”
He guided me into the rows of vines, and explained how they grew, and what kinds of wine each variety would eventually make. It was fun to hear about how long this property had been in their family. And how he and his brother had helped this vineyard to grow and prosper over the years.
His fingers touched my wedding ring and played with it. And then, a moment later, he stopped walking and turned to me. “I have a question for you.” His eyes grew serious—and it almost scared me. “And I need you to answer honestly. Can you do that for me?”
I rested my hand on his arm and said, “Of course. What is it?” I asked, feeling all sorts of worried.
“You won't hurt my feelings. I promise. All I want is for you to be happy.” He held up my left hand and touched my ring with his thumb. “Every time you look down at your ring, I want you to be happy.”
I frowned slightly and looked off to the side, trying to understand what the heck he was talking about. My eyes landed back on his. “I am happy, Stefan. I love this ring.” And I did. I mean, who the heck wouldn't? It was gorgeous.
He gazed down for a long moment and dug into his pocket. And pulled out—
Holy.
Crap.
That was a huge diamond ring.
“I picked this up for you when Nick and I went into the city. If you'd rather wear it—or we can go to whatever jewelry store you want. And pick out anything you like.”
He looked so nervous.
Such a handsome, accomplished man. But the subject of rings had him completely flustered.
I smiled and felt my eyes well up with tears.
“If it's okay—” I gazed into the most handsome eyes I'd ever seen, “I'd like to keep this one.” And then I backpedaled a bit, in case he actually had to get the ring back.
“Unless Carlo and Giselle need it back. I would totally understand that, seeing as it's an heirloom.” I started taking my ring off—
But Stefan stopped me. His hand grasped mine.
“No, Francesca. Nobody needs it back. But it's not quite as—” He held out the new ring with the gigantic stone, “grand as this one. Or, like I said, if you have your hopes set on something else, we can get that, instead. We have to go to the jewelry store to pick something out for me. Carlo decided he wanted his wedding band back.” Stefan grinned.
“Not the first time he's done something like that to me.
So, it's completely unsurprising behavior by my brother.”
My eyes went wide, and I gasped, “Oh, wait. Actually—” I dug into my pocket and pulled out the ring I'd bought him from the market. “I got you this one. As soon as I saw it, I thought of you.” I held it up and turned it around. “Classy. Yet dark and broody.”
Stefan looked at it.
Then, for some reason, I asked him, “Stefan Sovrano. Will you marry me? In the vineyards your family started from nothing, years and years ago?”
He smiled and looked at me adoringly. “You already married me, Francesca.”
I bit my lip and shook my head a little.
“I don't think I really did. At the time—” I took a deep breath.
“At the time, I was so afraid. And everything was—crazy.” I stared into his loving eyes for a moment.
“But now—” I grabbed onto his hand. “Now I'm ready. And I would love nothing more than for you to be my husband.”
Stefan's eyes grew watery as I recited my vows. This time—without hesitation. Or fear.
This time—
It was for real.
When I was done, I slipped the ring onto his finger.
As soon as the ring was secured, he began saying his vows to me.
So sweetly.
So seriously.
And it was then—surrounded by the Sovrano vineyards, underneath an amazing Italian sunset—that Stefan and I pledged our love.
Till death do us part.