LUCA {Full Book}

37

The country road was just as I remembered it, except this time I was sober and it was cold as fuck outside.

I veered towards the water, whipping into the small lot in front of the market and immediately throwing my door open, stretching my legs after that long ass drive.

"Why are we stopping here?" She called as she followed, hurrying over as I walked through the shop doors and sliding her arm under mine, shivering against me.

"I'm gonna cook for you tonight, so I need to grab some shit."

I had no intention of leaving that bungalow once we arrived. I'd made my appearance here and now I could disappear between her thighs for the rest of the night.

"Grab some shit? Like wine?" She lifted a bottle from the front display but I pulled it towards me, reading the origin, Cali.

"No! Wine from Italia only, but you can grab that aspirin." I gestured over to the little stand of pill bottles before reaching down for a shopping basket.

"Why, do you have headache?"

Me? No, no. We had a lot of time to make up for and I was full of fucking pent up anxiety, not to mention the vision of her fucking herself in the car was still so damn fresh- tonight was gonna be a long fucking night. "No, but you might be sore tomorrow."

She started laughing, rolling her eyes as she looked up at me, then realizing I wasn't laughing back and her hand flew up, grabbing the bottle. "And maybe we get a few bottles of wine."

"So what should I cook for dinner?"

She studied a row of wine bottles then grabbed one up and dropped it into the basket on my arm before looking up to meet my eyes. "Depends, what are you good at?"

"You know exactly what I'm fucking good at."

She gave me that laugh, short and sweet and so goddamn sexy. "I meant in the kitchen."

"Oh I can do it in the kitchen too baby."

She gripped my arm tighter, squeezing into me as her free hand tossed a tomato into the basket. "How about we cook together? I'll go grab the meat and you grab the veggies. I'll make suya."

Suya? "Is that Italian?"

"No, Nigerian."

"I like to stick to Italian." I was a Romano after all.

"You can have your Italian pride and enjoy some Naija too," she laughed. "Think about what you'd be missing if you limited yourself to 100% Italian." She gave me that fucking know it all smile as she pointed up to her own face.

"Fine, but the wine stays Italian." Some things were just too fucking sacred.

"And dessert, all Italian?" She teased over her shoulder as she started towards the back of the store.

"Hell fucking no. I'm peach and coconut only."

She slowly turned back around, stepping back towards me. "Peach and coconut?"

"You." The smell I couldn't fucking live without lately. My bed, my sheets, my pillows- all drenched in her concoction. It was a high I couldn't get enough of, hit after hit and I still wanted more.

Her eyes were wide and that usual sassy smile was soft. "You noticed that?"

"Romano?"

I flung my head towards the voice, the tiniest fucking jolt going through me before I saw the pompous ass walking my way. "Wiseman, haven't seen you in a while. Crystal, Marty Wiseman. Marty this is my girl."

"What are you doing out here? Thought this wasn't your scene."

He was still a fucking tweaker, all these years and he was still doing the same shit. "Just here for the weekend, grabbing some shit for dinner."

His eyes fell to Crystal, checking her out and luckily she was in a giant ass coat so he couldn't drool over her fucking curves because then I might've had to strangle him.

"Well I see you already bagged the brown sugar," he smiled at her with a fucking wink, looking more like a psychopath than the player he thought he was. "I'll see you guys around."

He walked away, no, fuck he jittered away and I looked down at Crystal, hearing her grumbling under her breath.

"....bagged the brown sugar..." she rolled her eyes, looking pissed off. "Do people not hear themselves when they talk."

"He's a fucking moron and is brown sugar really so bad...."

"No...."

Oh shit. I was joking but I knew that sarcastic tone of hers and those wide attitude filled eyes.

".... I enjoy being reduced to a commodity by a stranger."

"Fuck, he didn't mean it like that..."

"If I was a blonde would he have said 'bagged the white sugar'?"

I reached for her jacket, yanking her closer to me. "No, but he probably would have said something just as fucking ridiculous. He's a harmless tool."

"These friends of yours..."

"No, not my friend. A lot of people know my fucking name, a very few know me."

She leaned up, smacking my lips with a kiss before stepping away. "Let's go grab the meat."

"....Well I see you already bagged the Italian sausage."

"Very funny Tin Man..."

"It's that one right there." I pointed to the small bungalow on the water as I turned onto the dirt road.

"This is where we're staying?" She was looking out the window studying the place and I couldn't tell if she was fucking smiling or not.

Fuck, I didn't even ask if she wanted to stay at a hotel or a fancier place. "Yeah, this okay with you?"

"It's perfect." She shot out the door, charging towards the sand in front of us and I followed her out, unloading all the bags as she stood at the shore.

I flipped up the mat, grabbing up the key and pushing the door open. "Dai!"

She turned back to me, standing against the waves and giving me the biggest fucking smile I'd ever seen on her face. "How about we take a walk?"

Walk? Was she fucking nuts! She didn't even have her coat on. "It's freezing! Get up here!"

She walked back up the sand, rubbing her arms as she shivered then throwing them around me. "I'll keep you warm."

That's it! It was go time. "How about I make you hot instead, get your ass inside."