“Why would I laugh?”
I shrugged. “Some people do.”
“You write romance, don’t you?” she breathed. I nodded. “Oh my God. You really are him, aren’t you? Nick Penn?”
I nodded.
“Holy sh... I mean, wow.”
“It’s not a big deal, Kat.”
“Not a big deal?!? Do you even know who you are?”
She was so cute. I laughed. “Yeah, I think I do.”
“Of course you do,” she said, still looking somewhat shell-shocked. “All this time, my subconscious had it right,” she murmured.
“Excuse me?”
“Uh, nothing. Can I just say I’m a huge, huge fan?”
“You could, but I’d rather hear you say something else.”
“Like what?”
“Like you’ll have dinner with me.”
She blinked. Once again, I’d surprised her. She seemed genuinely puzzled.
“You want to have dinner with me? Why would you want to do that?”
I put my coffee mug down and leaned forward. It was time to fess up and hope she didn’t laugh and toss me out on my ass. “Because for the past eight months, I’ve been watching you come into my grandfather’s bookstore and every time, my heart speeds up, my mouth gets dry, and I feel like I’m in high school all over again.”
“You do?” Her eyes went positively owlish, and I decided I really liked surprising her. I made a mental note to find new ways to do so, ways that would keep her looking at me just like that.
“Yes.” I let that sink in for a moment, until I saw the doubt start to creep in. “You say you’re a fan of my books. Have you ever read the dedications?”
She shook her head. “No.”
“Maybe it’s time you did.” I retrieved the bag from where she’d left it on the counter and pulled out my latest.
The slight trembling of her hands did not go unnoticed as she took it from me. Nor did the way her eyes searched mine, hopeful and yet afraid.
“Go on,” I coaxed gently. Then it was time for me to hold my breath as she read the words I’d written just for her.
Chapter 11: Kat
I stared at the words, not quite believing what I was reading.
This book is dedicated to a very special woman. She’s beautiful and intelligent, and when she smiles, my whole world is brighter. She’s my inspiration; the perfect heroine to my hero. And the tragic beauty of it is, she has no idea.
Week after week, I’ve been content to surreptitiously watch her from afar, quietly imagining all the things I’d like to say to her. The things I’d like to do with her. To her.
Instead, those words came not from my lips, but from my hero’s. And they were not whispered softly into her ears, but my heroine’s. My only consolation is I know she’s reading them. Even now, I watch, fascinated, emotions flitting over her face as she holds one of my books in her hands, engrossed in the world I created with her in mind.
I can only hope that she reads this, and feels the same way.
To Bella, with love.
Nick.
I looked up at him. He looked almost as anxious as I felt. “Is this true?” I whispered.
“Every word of it.”
“Not every word,” I countered. He opened his mouth to respond, but I continued. “I did notice you.”
“You did?”
“Yes.” I looked down at the book again. Since he was being so candid, perhaps it was time for a confession of my own. “This is going to sound crazy, but whenever I read one of your books, I felt as though you had written it just for me.”
He grinned, but I wasn’t done. “And... whenever I pictured the hero, he looked just like you. I mean, not you, Nick Penn... but you, sexy laptop guy.” I felt the heat rush into my face at my bumbling admission. Why was I still talking?
“Sexy laptop guy?”
“That’s how I thought of you,” I mumbled.
“Works for me. So...does that mean you’ll have dinner with me?”
I chanced a look at him, unsure of what I’d see. His eyes were twinkling, and his lips were curved in a sexy, close-lipped, half-smile that caused fluttering sensations between my thighs and behind my ribs. I cleared my throat and decided to throw caution to the wind. “Yes, I’d like that.”
“Great! I’ll be right back.”
He sprung up from the sofa and ran toward the door. “What? Where are you going?” But he was already gone.
I’d barely had a chance to process his abrupt departure when my buzzer started buzzing again.
I opened the door to find him looking at me over a huge cardboard box from which absolutely mouth-watering scents were emanating.
“Sorry,” he said apologetically. “I didn’t realize the door would lock behind me like that. Good safety feature, though.”
“No problem.”
I watched in awe as he carried the box into the kitchen and began unpacking the contents. A white linen tablecloth was soon draping my breakfast counter (I didn’t have a dining table), topped with candles, plates, silverware, and a dizzying assortment of covered takeout containers.
“Pretty sure of yourself, huh?” I quipped when I realized how much prep time he’d put into it before showing up at my door.
“Hopeful,” he corrected with a smile. “I figured you might not feel up to going out tonight, so we’ll save that for another time.”
I have to admit, his confidence that there would be another time was damned sexy. “What did you do, buy one of everything from the menu?”
“Well, I wasn’t sure what you’d like, and my mother suggested a variety.”
“Your mother?”
“She and my father own a restaurant on the other side of town. She let me play around in the kitchen this morning.”
Sexy hot, wrote kick-butt romance, and he could cook? The Perfect Man wasn’t a fantasy, he was standing right in front of me. I was a goner. It took a moment or two for my hormones to settle down enough for my brain to fully process the rest of what he’d said. His parents owned a restaurant on the other side of town, and his last name was Cerasino... “Mama C’s,” I murmured.
“Ah, you’ve heard of it.”
Who hadn’t? It was supposed to be the best Italian food in the city, maybe even beyond. I shook my head. “Is there anything about you that is not going to impress me?”
This time there was no mistaking the heat in his eyes. No man had ever looked at me like that. “I certainly hope not.”
Dinner was absolutely amazing, and what was even more amazing? Nick. He was everything I’d imagined in my fantasies and so much more. He was smart and funny and kind, and we just clicked. We talked for hours and I don’t think I’d ever felt more at ease with anyone in my life.
When we couldn’t eat another bite, we packed up the leftovers together, having to get a bit creative to fit them all in my fridge. Thankfully, his sense of spatial perception was superior to mine. We made another pot of coffee – decaf – and were sitting on the couch when he suddenly grew serious.
“I’m having a wonderful time with you, Kat.”
“Good,” I told him. “Me, too.”
“But I need to be honest with you.”
That lovely, bubbly feeling started to fade, and my over-full belly churned in concern as I started imagining what might put those frown lines between his dark, beautiful eyes. “You mean you haven’t been?” I asked carefully.
“No, I have.” He ran his hand through his hair, and I realized that he must do it often, because it explained the way it always had that just-loved look. “Everything I’ve told you has been absolutely true, but in the interest of full disclosure...”
My stomach fell even further. “Yes?”
“I was in the Marines.”
“Okay.” I hadn’t known that, but it wasn’t really shocking, either. More than once I’d thought he had the body and overall bearing of someone who’d spent time in the military. I still didn’t see what the issue
could be, though.
“And I sustained an injury while on active duty. One serious enough that I had to separate from the Corps.”
“Okay.”
“I lost part of my leg. I wear a prosthetic.”
I stared at him, silently urging him to get on with it. When he didn’t say anything for several minutes, I prompted, “And...?”
He blinked. “And I thought you should know that. Just in case it made a difference.”
It was then I realized just how worried he’d been about what I thought. My heart ached a little.
“It doesn’t.”
“Okay. But if it did—-”
“It doesn’t.”
“Okay. Well, good.”
“But I am glad you told me. Like I said, it doesn’t matter to me, but it might have been awkward the first time I saw you with your pants off.”
He choked on his coffee, and I smirked. I was different with him, and I loved it. “What? Don’t tell me I shocked Nick Penn, romance writer extraordinaire.”
“This boldness is a whole new side of you, Kat.” His dark eyes filled with heat. And promise. “I like it.”
“Good,” I told him, unable to stop the blush I knew was rising. “Because if you’re half as good at making love as you are about writing it, you’ll be seeing a lot of it.”
Epilogue: Nick
I couldn’t help but smile at the pretty blush coloring Kat’s cheeks. She wasn’t used to such a loud, boisterous gathering, but there was no way to avoid it, not with my family.
This was the first time I’d brought her to Sunday dinner at the restaurant, though she’d met a few of them already. I’d thought introducing her to the famiglia was something best done in small doses. She already knew my grandparents from the bookstore, and, of course, Vinnie and Sofia. Over the course of the last few weeks, she’d met my parents, Paulie, Dom, and Gina as well.
My sisters flanked her now, having used my brief absence to the restroom as a chance to move in closer. I recognized it for what it was: a protective move, meant to surround Kat with people she knew and provide deflection should it be necessary. My cousins Valentina and Corina were notorious gossips, and considered no question, no matter how personal or intimate, off-limits.
Kat turned my way and caught me staring. It wasn’t the first time. I liked looking at her, seeing her smile, hearing her laugh. Seeing her here, in the midst of the most important people in my life, gave me a sense of utter completeness I hadn’t known possible.
I still didn’t believe in love at first sight, but I was now a firm believer in falling hard and fast. Sure, it would take a long time to build the kind of relationship I wanted, the kind my parents and my grandparents had, but there was no question in my mind that we would get there. Kat was my perfect match, and I was doing my damnedest to be hers, too.
Her eyes softened and she nodded slightly, letting me know she was doing okay. I’d told her if she felt at all uncomfortable, we’d make our excuses and leave, but she seemed to be genuinely enjoying herself. I’m certain the embarrassing stories they told, the ones involving me specifically, had something to do with that. I didn’t mind. I’d gladly sacrifice my pride if it eased some of her anxiety and made her smile like that.
“Super Boy?” she mouthed, and I could see her eyes sparkling.
I smiled and shrugged while my brothers snorted. What little boy doesn’t use his mamma’s fine linen tablecloth as a cape and run through the family restaurant in his Underoos?
I should have known it wouldn’t be that easy.
“Looks like Nonno was right again,” Val said. “So, when’s the big day? You are gonna let me do your hair, right? And Uncle Carmine can do the flowers. Uncle Al just got a great deal on a limo, too.”
The table went strangely silent. Kat looked at me, her expression now questioning (and maybe just a little panicked).
“Nice, Val,” Paulie muttered.
“What, you didn’t tell her?”
“Tell me what?” Kat asked.
“Nonno’s never wrong.” Val said matter-of-factly.
“Val, stop talking.” She finally shut up but turned around and smirked at me.
“And?” Kat prompted.
“And,” Lucia continued, picking up the thread, “Nonno said you and Nicky were perfect for each other ages ago.”
“Did he now?”
I couldn’t read Kat’s expression, and that worried me. I opted for cautious honesty and nodded. “He did.”
We held each other’s gazes across the table, marginally aware that everyone else was watching, too. Then I saw it: the slightest quirk at the corner of her mouth.
“Well, he wasn’t wrong.”
Ramona squealed, and that quirk became a full-blown grin. Relief rushed through me with the force of a tidal wave, and I grinned back. “No,” I agreed, “he wasn’t wrong.”
Epilogue: Kat
“I’m sorry about that.”
Nick put his hand over mine as we drove back to my place. I’d seen the worry in his eyes when Valentina spilled the beans. Oddly enough, I wasn’t upset, not really. A little surprised, perhaps, but that’s all. Maybe it was because subconsciously, I’d felt the rightness of it. Mr. C’s declaration was really just a confirmation of what my heart was already telling me: this man was my future.
“I’m not,” I told him honestly. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
He laughed. “Tell you what? That my grandfather likes to play matchmaker? That he pulled me aside one day and said, ‘Nicky, I found the perfect woman for you’?”
I laughed, too. “He actually said that?”
“He did.”
“Is that why you started stalking me?” I teased.
“I was already stalking you,” he said, surprising me. “The first time I saw you wasn’t at the bookstore, Kat. It was in that little café on the ground floor of your office building. My brother Paulie has an office on the sixth floor, and I was meeting him for lunch. You were in the coffee line. You smiled and laughed at something the barista said, and... well, let’s just say I couldn’t take my eyes off of you. You, however, walked right past me without so much as a cursory glance.”
“The second time I saw you,” he said, cutting me off before I could comment, “was at the farmer’s market a few days later. I was helping my cousin Tony with his produce stand, and you stopped by and bought a bag of apples. You didn’t notice me, but you smiled at Tony and I wanted to punch him right in the face.”
“And the third time was at my grandfather’s bookstore. That was three times in a week that our paths had crossed, and I began to think maybe fate was trying to tell me something. After you left that night, that’s when Nonno told me that you were the woman for me, but by then, I already knew.”
If I wasn’t already falling in love with him, that would have done it. “I think my bones just melted a little,” I said, because really, what else could I say to something like that?
We arrived at my apartment building, but there weren’t any open parking spots nearby.
“Why don’t you get out here,” he suggested, turning on his flashers. “I’ll find a spot farther up and walk back. Unless you’ve got stuff to do,” he added.
Oh, I had stuff to do, I thought. Up to this point, Nick had been the perfect gentleman. Other than a few PG-13-rated make-out sessions, we spent most of our time talking or going places, getting to know each other better. We were taking things slow, but I’d seen the barely banked heat in his eyes and felt the proof of his arousal more than once when we snuggled. The truth was, I was ready to take things to the next level. And after this latest confession, I wanted him more than ever.
“I’ve got a better idea,” I said. “Why don’t you drive around the block and pick me up right back here in about fifteen minutes?”
He turned questioning eyes my way. I answered before he had a chance to ask. “That’s all I’ll need to pack an overnight bag. Assuming you don’t mind giving me a ride to work in the
morning, that is.”
I watched as his eyes widened slightly, and I smiled, confirming that I knew exactly what I was offering.
Then his eyes grew dark and he smiled, too. “No, Kat. I don’t mind at all.”
Thanks for reading Nick and Kat’s story
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Abbie
About the Author
Abbie Zanders loves to read and write romance in all forms; she is quite obsessive, really. Her ultimate fantasy is to spend all of her free time doing both, preferably in a secluded mountain cabin overlooking a pristine lake, though a private beach on a lush tropical island works, too. Sharing her work with others of similar mind is a dream come true. She promises her readers two things: no cliffhangers, and there will always be a happy ending. Beyond that, you never know...
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