I’d ridden that long, hard dick, making myself come before I took him into oblivion with me. After that, I’d simply laid myself over his body and fallen into a deep, almost drugged sleep.
When the sun came up, waking us both, Vincent coaxed me into the shower with him, where I’d gotten on my knees and sucked him off while he braced against the tiles. After I stood up, smiling like a cat who’d gotten the cream, he’d gotten down and returned the favor.
Twice.
I’d learned that night that for Vincent, sex wasn’t quite a competition, but it was almost a sport. He never liked to leave me with the upper hand. I didn’t give him an orgasm that he didn’t reciprocate, often a few times over. Not that I was complaining; I’d never come so often and so hard in one night. Maybe not even in one lifetime.
After our shower, he’d put his dress clothes on again, grinning a little ruefully at me as he buttoned the wrinkled shirt and tucked it back into his pants.
“Are you going to catch hell from your mom?” I’d asked from where I lay on the bed, still wrapped in my bath towel, my hair damp and curling around my face.
“Nah. If I play my cards right, she won’t even think about it. She’ll assume I either got my own room last night or that I just drove back home after the party. By the time I see her tomorrow night, she’ll be onto something else.”
“Tomorrow night?” I cocked my head. “You have plans with her?”
“It’s Sunday. The restaurant’s closed, so the whole family eats together at Ma’s. Carl and Ange will be there with the baby. Ava and Liam won’t be down this week, I guess, since we saw them at the party, but they come down about twice a month. Other than that, there’ll probably be a few cousins there, and maybe some of my aunts and uncles.”
I smiled. “It sounds lovely. Having a big family has always been one of those mysterious experiences to me—something that sounds amazing but something I can’t quite imagine.”
“It’s got its high points and its low points.” He turned his wrist to fasten his watch, and I felt a renewed surge of desire for him. There was something so uniquely male about that move, the way he held his arm and the alluring expanse of skin between his cuff and wrist. It made me want to tempt him back into bed with me . . .
He was speaking again, and I pulled my attention back to what he was saying. “How about you? Do you have brothers or sisters?”
I shook my head. “No, it’s just me. I’m close to my parents, but they were only children, too, so I don’t have cousins or aunts and uncles. My grandparents on my dad’s side are alive, but they live in the UK, and my mom’s parents passed away when I was little.”
“So no big family dinners for you? No holiday gatherings?” He looked faintly appalled at the idea.
“No, but we had fun, anyway. We’d either spend holidays with friends, or we’d travel. My dad’s an archeologist, so if there was a short-term dig that fell between Thanksgiving and Christmas, sometimes we’d go there. It wasn’t necessarily typical, but it was never boring.”
“Huh. Your father is like Indiana Jones?” Now Vincent sounded fascinated, and I laughed.
“Not exactly. He’s not the type of archeologist who works in ancient sites, usually—his specialty is more recent history, like within the last thousand years. He works with historical societies on excavating old houses or villages . . . now and then, some native American sites, too, but those aren’t his favorites. Right now, he’s in Israel, working with a group who’s uncovered some kind of site related to the crusades.”
“Still, that’s very cool. He has an amazing job.” Picking up his tie, Vincent stuffed it into his pocket. “Well, I guess that’s it. I should probably get going so that I can make it home before traffic gets too bad.”
“Yeah.” I pushed myself to sit up, securing the top of my towel in place. “Let me call down so that they bring your car around.” I reached for my phone and hit the autodial for the building valet, spoke briefly to the man on duty and hung up.
“That’s wild.” Vincent shook his head. “I can’t imagine having to call someone every time you want to drive your car.”
“I guess you get used to it.” I lifted one shoulder. “I wouldn’t know. I don’t have a car here.”
“What?” Shock flooded his face. “How do you live without a car?”
I counted off on my fingers. “Public transportation. RideIt. Cabs.”
“Do you even know how to drive?”
I rolled my eyes. “Of course, I do. I had a car growing up in Jersey. But it seemed extraneous when I started at Penn, so it’s been tucked in my parents’ garage since I graduated from high school.”
“That’s crazy. I can’t imagine not having my car.” He sat down on the edge of the bed next to me, but the judgement I heard in his voice made me feel defensive, and I shifted a little bit away, out of his reach.
“I guess there are a lot of things you just can’t imagine about my life. That doesn’t make my choices any less valid,” I said tightly. “Different isn’t always wrong.”
“Didn’t say it was.” Vincent leaned over and tucked a curl behind my ear. “Hey. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sound like I was putting you down. It’s just different, like you said. How you live is your business.”
And none of mine. He didn’t say it, but I heard it nonetheless.
“True.” I crossed my arms over my chest. “I guess it’s a good thing that we’re just a hook-up, isn’t it? Can you imagine trying to make this any more than it was?”
Vincent was staring at me. “I guess. I mean, we live in totally different worlds. And pretty far apart, geography-wise, too.”
“Yup.” I swung my legs off the side of the mattress. “Well, your car’s probably waiting. If you’re not down there to get it, they’ll put it back in the garage, and you’ll have to call for it again.”
“You’re saying we don’t have time for a quickie?” His voice was teasing, but I was no longer in the mood. I was used to seeing guys off the morning after a rollicking night of sex, but somehow, today was different.
“Afraid not.” I stood up, hugging the towel to me. “You’ll have to make those five orgasms hold you until the next time you find a woman you want to fuck.” I kept my tone light, but I didn’t miss the wince on Vincent’s face.
“I guess I will.”
I pointed to the bedroom door. “I’ll walk you out.”
He frowned at me. “You don’t have to do that. You must be exhausted. Crawl back into bed and get some sleep.”
“I plan to, but I need to lock the door behind you.” The smile I wore was definitely forced.
Vincent nodded. “Ah, of course. Sure. Okay.”
We walked toward my apartment door in silence. I cleared my throat as we reached the living room. “Sorry I didn’t get up and make you breakfast. Or coffee. I don’t have anything in the house, actually. Breakfast isn’t my thing. And I always pick up my coffee on the way to class.”
“Breakfast isn’t your thing? What does that mean? You don’t eat breakfast?” He looked horrified by this revelation. “I would’ve made you something, only I didn’t want to overstep.”
“Like I said, nothing in the house. You’d have had to hit the grocery store first.” I shrugged. “Just another way we’re opposites.”
“Yeah.” He stopped at the door and laid one hand on the knob before turning back to me. “Amanda, thanks for last night. I really had a good time. In case you couldn’t tell.”
Some of my misery and irritation melted away. “I did, too. In case you couldn’t tell.”
He slid his hand alongside my cheek, cupping my face and threading his fingers into my hair. “I guess I’ll see you . . . at the wedding, right?”
“Unless you’re planning to show up at Ava’s bridal shower? Her friend Julia’s planning it, and she already let me know when it’s going to be.” I grinned, trying to picture Vincent among the tea sandwiches and fancy little cakes, watching his sister open gifts of lin
gerie.
“Uh, no. I think I’ll be skipping that shindig.” He made a face.
“Then yeah, the wedding it is.”
“That’s three months away. Almost four, I guess.” His brow knit together.
“I think that’s right. I’ll be finished with my second-to-last semester of law school. The time can’t go fast enough.”
“I bet.” With a small sigh, Vincent leaned in to kiss me, and this time, I tasted good-bye on his lips. It was bittersweet and a little sad. “See you later, sweetheart.”
“Bye, Vincent.”
He turned the knob and exited, sending me a quick smile and wave over his shoulder. I stood in the open door for a few seconds, watching him disappear around the corner as he headed for the elevator.
I wanted to run after him and drag him back inside, but I knew that was insane. As we’d both just pointed out, we had almost nothing in common, and neither of us was interested in changing that. We weren’t looking for relationships. We’d wanted a hot and heavy hook-up, and by God, we’d gotten just that.
Which was why I forced myself to close the door, lock it and walk back into my bedroom to get some sleep.
And if I shed a few tears as I drifted off, that meant absolutely nothing, except that I was over-tired.
I didn’t hear anything from or about Vincent for about six weeks, until Ava’s bridal shower. Being a glutton for punishment, I intentionally sat close to Mrs. DiMartino, listening to her chatter to family and friends about everyone in her family, hoping to hear something about Vincent and at the same time, praying I didn’t.
“So Frannie, you got just the one left who isn’t married or taken!” The older woman sitting a little down from Ava’s mother leaned forward, grinning. “Is Vincent ever going to settle down?”
Mrs. DiMartino waved one hand. “Who knows with that one? He’s got a single-minded focus on his job, which is fine with me, because he’s a big part of Cucina Felice. People come to our restaurant from all over to eat my Vincent’s pastries.”
The lady sitting next to me patted my knee. “Have you sampled Vincent’s goodies?” I choked on my punch, coughing and sputtering, as Mrs. DiMartino glanced over at me.
“Oh, no, Amanda’s never been to the restaurant. But you had some of Vincent’s stuff at the engagement party, didn’t you, dear?”
I was certain my face was bright red, but I managed to shake my head. “No, I didn’t have dessert that night.”
“That’s right. You left the party a little early, didn’t you?” Angela DiMartino, Ava’s sister-in-law, shot me a pointed look, with one raised eyebrow, making me wonder what information Vincent’s brother might have shared with his wife.
Before I could formulate an answer, Ava called to her mother, showing off another gift she’d opened, and the conversation went in a whole new direction. Thank you, sweet baby Jesus.
After the presents were all opened and everyone was eating, I wandered over to say hello to Ava.
“Is this seat taken? I brought the bride some jungle juice.” I winked at Ava as I sat down.
“Ugh, don’t say that. I still feel a little queasy when I think of that night.” She stuck out her tongue at me. “What a first impression I made, huh?”
“Nah, you were fine.” I scooped up some of the pasta salad on my plate. “So, are you excited? The countdown’s begun, huh?”
“Yeah, time flies. I can’t believe the wedding’s in six weeks.”
We chatted a little bit about the wedding and about Liam’s father, who’d apparently had a slight breakdown and was now living with Ava and Liam as he tried to get back on his feet. Mrs. Bailey came over to say hello, too. I couldn’t help thinking that she looked better now than she ever had, at least as long as I could remember. I wondered if that was because she’d finally dumped the Senator or if it had something to do with the hot young yoga instructor.
After she moved away to speak with someone else, I leaned closer to Ava. “What does Mrs. B think about the Senator taking up residence with you and Liam?”
Ava shrugged. “She didn’t like it at first. But now she just doesn’t say much. They’ve run into each other a few times, but they manage to keep it civil. I hope they can hold out during the wedding.”
“Me, too.” I sipped my punch, thinking that I didn’t envy Ava and Liam having to navigate the delicate balance between his parents.
“So, you and my brother? What happened there?” Ava skewered me with narrowed eyes just as I’d taken a sip of punch, and once again, I began to cough and sputter. I set down my cup as Ava pounded my back until I could speak again.
“What do you mean? I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Fumbling with the pretty green shower napkin, I wiped my mouth, dabbing away the dribbles of punch from my chin.
“Cut the crap, Amanda. I know you left our engagement party together. Vince talked to Liam before you both took off, and Liam told me about it . . . after some convincing on my part. I’ve been poking at my brother ever since, but he won’t say a word. Just tells me to mind my own.”
Relief filled me, along with just the tiniest bit of regret that I couldn’t ask Ava anything about how or what her brother was doing, now that she was suspicious. Instead, I only gave a lofty shake of my head.
“Then I’m going to take the party line and say the same. Nothing’s going on, Ava. I haven’t seen Vincent since that night.” I was sure my face was red, and I knew that if I lingered, I might break down and tell Ava everything, which would have been disastrous. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go throw away my trash. Want me to take yours?” I held out my hand.
Ava shook her head. “No, thanks. I need to go check on Julia. She’s been working so hard on the shower, and I want to make sure she isn’t overdoing.”
“Yeah—I was kind of shocked when I saw she was pregnant. Didn’t she just get married earlier this year?”
“Yes, and the baby was a bit of a honeymoon surprise for both Julia and Jesse. She was totally freaking out at first, but now, everything’s settled down, and they’re thrilled. I’m going to have a little goddaughter in the spring.”
“Aww, that’s sweet. I’m happy for them.” I gave Ava a quick hug. “And I’m happy for you, too. Hang in there, Ave. I know things are a little crazy now, but pretty soon, everything will calm down. You’re going to get your happy-ever-after.”
She smiled. “I never doubt that. It’s just getting through all the wedding stuff to find that happy ending—that’s the trick.” She stood up, too. “Speaking of which, one of the battles we’re fighting is the guest list. We have you down with a plus one—are you planning to bring a date?” Her eyes were bright with curiosity.
“I—I don’t know. I guess I will. Probably. But I don’t know who yet.” I wanted to ask if Vincent was going to have a date, but of course, that was none of my business.
“Okay.” She seemed slightly disappointed in my answer, but that might have been only because my answer meant one more guest at her small wedding. “I better go see where Julia is and then mingle with the other guests. See you in December!”
And now, of course, it was December. I still didn’t have a date for the wedding. And what was even worse . . . I still wasn’t over my one night with Vincent DiMartino.
“Vincent! Giff’s here, and we’re ready to get started. Are you coming out?” My mother leaned into the kitchen, shooting me the kind of look only a mother can use effectively. It said clearly, I’m asking you a question, but you should consider it an order.
“Kind of busy, Ma.” I lifted the pastry bag and began piping another row of delicacies that were destined to delight the patrons of Cucina Felice tonight.
“You have time to come sit with us for fifteen minutes.” Ma crossed her arms over her chest and glared.
“Why should I? You’re all going to be talking wedding stuff, right? I know what I’m supposed to do. I make the cake. I don’t need to know anything else.”
“Vincent, th
is is your sister’s wedding. This is our last meeting before the big day. We need everyone on the same page, so that if anything goes wrong, any of us can make it right.”
I sighed and laid down the pastry bag. I’d known from the start that I wasn’t going to win this battle. “Fine. Fifteen minutes. Not one second more. I’ve got a full schedule today.”
“Oh, aren’t we just something, with a full schedule. Listen to your mother, Mr. Hot Shot. This is the most important day of your baby sister’s life, and you’re not going to ruin it by being rude and grumpy. I don’t know what’s crawled up your ass the last couple of months, but you’re going to get over it today. Now. And you’re going to come out here and smile and talk to the rest of us while we go over everything. You hear me?”
My chest tightened. My mother wasn’t wrong. While I’d always been the moodier of the DiMartino siblings, I’d been gruffer than usual lately. I didn’t want to think about why that might be.
“Yep.” I picked up the tray and slid it into the huge refrigerator. “I’ll be right out.”
The restaurant was empty, of course, since we were hours from opening, and my mother had pushed together two of our four-seat tables to accommodate everyone who was gathered here for the big meeting. My father, the lucky man, along with my brother Carl had escaped because they were meeting a potential new linen supplier in Somers Point.
But my sister-in-law Angela was there, with the baby on her lap, and so was Liam’s mother, Mrs. Bailey, along with Giff, who was flipping through a folder when I came in and sat down.
“Okay, let’s get this over with.” I leaned back, knees wide, bracing my feet against the floor. “What do I need to know?”
“We were just going over the order of events.” Giff slid a single sheet of paper across the table to me. “Here’s what I have. You’ll have the cake and the Christmas cookies Peaches wants all done and in the kitchen by the morning of the wedding—”
Just Roll With It (A Perfect Dish Book 4) Page 7