Page 23 of All's Fair in Love and Pizza
“Too bad for you, ’cause I know how to make a bagel.”
“No, you don’t.”
“Yes, I do.”
“No, you?—”
“Oh, for f—udge sake. Six weeks of this will be torture for all of us,” Vanni huffed, smiling at the young family striding toward the register. “Welcome to Boardwalk. What can I get for you?”
Amber chuckled, a ringlet of curls snagging on her chin as she tucked her iPad under her arm. “I say keep it up, boys. The more angst, the better. Back to work for me. See you later, Mateo. And thank you. I think this is going to be great.”
We watched her walk out the door before looking at each other.
“I guess that’s something we’re doing,” Rob grumbled.
“Hmph. I hope you’re ready to get your ass handed to you. I literally have marinara in my veins.”
“Good to know.” Rob nudged my elbow as he pulled his cell from his pocket. “What’s your number?”
“Why?”
“I’m going to text you my address. We can trade recipes or…” He lowered his voice and leaned in. “We can finish what we started.”
“Tonight?” I gulped.
“Tonight.”
I wanted to tell him to fuck off for the sake of it, but when Rob pushed his phone at me, I typed in my number, too strung out to argue.
“Unless you’re buying, get outta here. We’re busy.”
Rob’s lips tilted at one side as he stepped a little closer. “I can’t wait to take you apart and put you back together again. See you later, sunshine.”
Oh, fuck.
That right there was a fine example of what was wrong with me. I wasn’t the kind of guy who got twisted up over meaningless compliments and vapid praise. Nope. But the threat of having my insides rearranged? Yeah, that did it for me.
I shook my head in consternation and all I could think was,Wow, you’re one sick fucker, Cavaretti. I hope he’s worth it.
10
ROB
Before you judge…don’t. I had no idea what I was doing. The simple truth was that I wanted Mateo. The popular quarterback I’d had a crush on in college had let me touch him, taste him, and rub up against him. And then he’d blown my mind.
Every damn day this week.
Amber’s PR idea was a good one, but better yet, it gave us an excuse to spend time together. I’d happily subject myself to his wrath if it meant I got an up-close and personal view of those long lashes and full lips. And if there was a snowball’s chance in hell he was willing to see how far we could go, I was all in. I wanted to be inside Mateo Cavaretti…deep, deep inside him.
But I’d been raised in a nice Midwestern family who prized good manners above all else, so there’d be no jumping Mateo’s bones the second he showed up on my doorstep. No, I vowed to show a little restraint tonight and find some common ground that didn’t involve sex or violence. Food was my best bet. Specifically…marinara sauce.
“Marinara?”
I motioned for Mateo to give me his leather jacket as he stepped into the foyer. “Yeah.”
“What happened to taking me apart? Talk about false advertising,” he snarked.
I lowered my head to hide my smile, draped his jacket on a bench, and headed through a maze of rooms to the family-style kitchen. “Can I get you something to drink?”
