“My mom and Gio’s father are siblings,” he explained. “Their grandparents immigrated here from Italy and then opened a restaurant in New Jersey, the original Muccino’s. And when my parents married, my dad personally invested in this branch of the restaurant and put in my Uncle Dante—that’s Gio’s dad—as head chef. They opened more restaurants, plus expanded into food manufacturing, kitchen tools and appliances, and other related businesses. It’s totally separate from Fenrir, and I don’t personally own any stake in here.”
“But he did work in the kitchens for a while,” Gio added. “I remember him in the kitchens when Pops used to bring me to work. He would watch over me sometimes when he was taking a break.” His cousin was a few years younger than him, though he’d already spent half his life in the Muccino’s, since Uncle Dante brought him and Dominic around all the time.
Her face lit up, then lifted a brow at him knowingly. “No wonder you know your way around the kitchen. Why keep it a secret?”
Gio cleared his throat. “If you guys don’t mind, why don’t you let me take care of dinner—off the menu, stuff prepared just for you, okay?”
“That’s too much,” Sofia said. “I don’t want to be a bother.”
“You’re not a bother, bella.” When Lucas sent him a sharp look, he added, “I mean, Sofia.” He gave her a dramatic bow and excused himself.
“It’s not a secret or anything,” Lucas began, hoping she wouldn’t think he deliberately kept this from him. “It’s just that … it’s not my thing, you know?”
“You seemed perfectly comfortable in the kitchen. You really worked here?”
He nodded. “Yeah. It was my parents’ idea. They wanted to teach me and my sister the value of hard work.” And they really did, and Lucas had been grateful for the lesson. He’d learned to be thankful for what he had.
“I just …”
“You can ask me anything,” he said in a quiet voice. “Just don’t be mad at me.”
“I’m not mad at you, Lucas,” she said quickly. “I’m just … amazed.”
“Amazed?”
“Yeah. You and I, we have so much in common. My grandfather and his restaurant. I mean, it’s nothing like Muccino’s, of course.”
“It could be,” he said. “The food there was amazing. They could expand and open up other branches if they want to.”
“I know.” Her eyes sparkled. “But both my grandfather and dad are too set in their ways. Anyway, they’re happy with the way things are. So,” she glanced around, “This isn’t going to cost a fortune, is it?”
He chuckled. “Don’t worry—”
“Oh, no, you’re not going to pay, mister! I invited you out, and I’m going to pay.” She fiddled with her napkin.
He made a mental note to pass a message to Gio about a large family discount. “You did. And I expected to be wined and dined, if you want me to put out.”
Though he meant it as a joke, the sudden flush of her cheeks made heat creep up his collar, and a surge of desire went straight to his cock. Good thing they were interrupted by Gio’s arrival along with their wine, but he couldn’t get the image of Sofia, naked in his bed, out of his mind.
“You okay, Lucas?” Gio asked as he poured him a glass.
“I’m great.” He took a sip and looked over at Sofia over the rim of his wine glass. Her face was still pink. “Just great.”
The rest of the evening went well, though he was annoyed by Gio’s multiple appearances. While he loved his cousin, he just wanted to be alone with Sofia, plus Gio kept telling embarrassing stories about him whenever he got the chance.
“I do remember you had that crush on that waitress,” Gio said. He announced he was on a break and sat in one of the empty chairs, wiping his face with a towel. “What was her name? Nina?”
“Nia,” Lucas corrected. “And I didn’t have a big crush on her.”
“Yes, you did,” Gio teased. “I don’t blame you.” He lifted his hands to his chest, making big circles. “She had these huge—”
“Gio!”
“Heart.” Gio looked wounded. “I was going to say heart.”
Sofia guffawed, which made Lucas groan. “You were nine years old, how could you know that?”
“I know everything.” He stood up and winked at Sofia. “I’ll be bringing your dessert soon. Unless you already had other plans for dessert?”
“Your diners are waiting, Gio,” he told his cousin. As soon as he left, he turned to Sofia. “Sorry about Gio,” he said.
“He’s interesting.”
A surge of jealousy ran through him. “Oh?”
“Yeah, he kinda looks like you, but he isn’t,” she said.
“What do you mean?”
“He’s so cheerful and open.” She took a sip of her wine. “I can read him like a book.”
“Oh?” His attempt to sound casual wasn’t working. At all. Not when all he wanted was to punch Gio in the face. “Is that what you like then?”
“Not at all.” Her eyes met his. “I prefer brooding, mysterious men.”
The look she gave him was pure passion and desire, and he could barely stop himself from getting up from his chair and dragging her home now. But, as Gio said, there was dessert, and he didn’t want her to miss it.
At some point during the meal, Sofia told Gio about her parents and how Uncle Dante prepared a special dessert for them—Nonna Gianna’s zeppoles. It wasn’t on the menu tonight, but he promised to make it for her. Sure enough, his cousin came back minutes letter, a plate of the said desserts on hand.
Finally, the end of the meal arrived. “Thank you,” Sofia said to the waitress who had taken the small black folder from her. “These prices are so reasonable, it’s a wonder you stay in business.” She shot Lucas a meaningful look. The waitress didn’t say anything, but nodded a thanks to her before leaving. “Well,” she put her napkin down and stood up. “I’m going to head to the ladies.
