Total pages in book: 36
Estimated words: 32664 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 163(@200wpm)___ 131(@250wpm)___ 109(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 32664 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 163(@200wpm)___ 131(@250wpm)___ 109(@300wpm)
Dominic spends five days of the week at Il Fiore Raro, and I go with him most days to continue learning from Marie. I really think I have a knack for it, and that maybe once school does come around, I'll major in something culinary.
This morning, I felt a little nauseous so I decided to stay behind. It's late afternoon now, and I'm feeling loads better. What can I do to make tonight special? I can't do something as monumental as telling Dominic that I love him just out of the blue. It needs to be an occasion with a capital O.
I find Elena in the kitchen, opening cabinets and writing a grocery list as she goes. She smiles when she sees me and puts her pen down. "Something you need, Daisy?"
Resting my upper half with my elbows on the counter, I lean in towards her, as if the two of us are sharing a secret. "Elena, could you help me make a special dinner for Dominic?" I ask conspiratorially. "I'm thinking of making a homemade Italian meal, but I don't know much about cooking authentic Italian cuisine. It's kind of a big deal for me. I want to show Dominic that I appreciate him, and..." I blush. "And that I love him."
Elena's eyes widen. "You love him?"
"More than anything," I gush, and her expression softens.
"Then let's make it happen. Do you have any idea what you'd like to serve him?"
"On the night he—" I clear my throat, blushing when I think about our dinner together in his office where he ate me for dessert. "On our first date, he served me this pasta that he said was his grandmother's recipe. Do you know it?"
"Of course." Elena beams. "I'm sure he'd love that. I'll help you make it. Then we can do a caprese salad and a fresh loaf of French bread. How does that sound?"
"Sounds perfect, Elena. Thank you!"
We spend the next several hours cooking. My favorite part by far is kneading the dough for the bread and seeing Dominic's home in a whole new light. Elena does most of the cooking, but it helps me feel connected to the old, wise house to really work in its kitchen.
I'm in the middle of stirring the pasta sauce when strong, familiar arms snake around my waist and the now-familiar scent of Dominic's cologne and his own natural aroma fills the air. Turning my head, I press my lips against his, and his stubble scratches my chin, his lips curling in a smirk beneath mine. "You look like a sexy little chef, angel," he growls, pulling me harder against him, and I feel the stiff bulge in his pants pressing against my ass.
"Hi," I breathe, giggling. "How was your day?"
"Shitty," he grumbles. "I've had the biggest asshole customers all day. But then I came home to a beautiful woman and everything already feels better." Nuzzling my ear, he whispers, "I have a surprise for you upstairs."
Goosebumps cover me from my head to my toes, but I can't let him distract me from my plan. Still stirring the sauce, I ask him, "Can it be an after-dinner surprise? Because I have a surprise, too. And, uh...it's dinner. I made us dinner."
"Did you?" Dominic presses his lips to the back of my neck.
"Yep. And Elena helped."
"Elena did, eh? Smells delicious."
"I hope it tastes that way, too."
"Everything you touch turns out perfect, angel."
Blushing, I pull away, turning off the stovetop. "Why don't you go upstairs and change? Dinner will be ready in like ten minutes. And then we'll eat, and after dinner, you can give me your surprise."
"But what if I don't want to wait?"
I giggle again. "Tough, Dominic. Go on."
Chuckling, he pecks my cheek and goes, leaving me alone in the kitchen.
Elena is elsewhere, and there's no one around to help me carry in the food, so I leave the pasta sauce and bread in the kitchen while I plate the salads and carry the plates to the dining room.
The table is already set, and I'm just setting the final fork down when Elena walks in with the tray of steaming pasta and a basket of bread. Setting them on the table, I fluff the salad a bit more and look up at her.
"Thank you so much for your help, Elena."
"It was my pleasure, Daisy. I'll tell Mr. Falcone dinner is ready."
She leaves, and Dominic enters, looking freshly showered in a clean pair of pressed slacks and a white button-up, and he's even rolled his sleeves up to his elbows. He knows what I like, and my hunger for food starts to morph into something else.
Keep it together, Daisy! Not yet!
Dominic pulls out my chair and kisses the top of my head as I sit down, and he takes his own seat across from me. We load up our plates, and the first bite of the pasta makes me want to punch the air in triumph. I did it! The meal is amazing.