I want to leave this apartment, but I’m too scared to fly.
Closing my eyes, I fall asleep, not exactly tired, but wanting to slip into a dream, a possibility of a different life, a different version of myself. Wanting to be the kind of girl who gives the guy her number.
And not just any guy.
Matt.
Because truth be told, he made me feel like no guy ever has before.
He saw me as who I am today — not the girl from before.
Chapter Three
Matt
All night at my restaurant, I can’t get Mirabella off my mind. By the time I close up for the night, I’m ready for a drink. I meet Josh and Grady at O’Malley’s for a pint and tell them about the girl I met.
“What the hell, man,” Josh laughs. “I haven’t even gotten my first date and you’re gonna beat me down the aisle.”
Grady lifts his eyebrows. “You guys sound insane. You know that, right? Love at first sight? It’s not real.”
“Says the guy who owns a flower shop. Seen too many lovesick fools buying roses for their girls, is that it?”
Grady takes a drink of his IPA. “How many times do I have to tell you? It’s a home and garden store. We sell fertilizer.”
“That’s bullshit,” I laugh. “Pun intended. But you sell more flowers than you do topsoil.”
Grady shrugs. “Maybe so, but it’s not the customers that have me put off. It’s my mother. God, she’s mentioning grandchildren every damn Sunday when I see her.”
We all laugh, able to relate.
“So, you really hit it off?” Josh asks.
I nod. “Yeah, and I made up my mind. Tomorrow I’ll go back to Sugar and Slice and try harder. Bring flowers. A box of chocolates. A teddy bear. I don’t know what girls want, but I know I want this girl. And I’ll do what I can to get her.”
My buddies shake their heads in surprise as a few more guys from the gym join us. But I don’t stay for another round. My mind isn’t here — it’s on her.
And as I walk back to my place, I can’t help but wonder. Maybe she is the one. Maybe love is on my mind for a reason. Maybe everything is leading up to this.
By the time I get to her pizzeria the next day, flowers — from Grady’s shop no less — in hand, a box of chocolates from the local candy shop under my arm, I hope the gesture will be appreciated. If she’d just give me a chance. And if her brother Tony would too. Damn, that guy had a chip on his shoulder all right.
I push open the door and there she is, coming through the back room. She drops the pizza she’s carrying in a box but manages to catch it before it hits the floor. She laughs nervously as she steps to the woman to the right of her. “Sorry, almost lost it,” she says. The woman thanks her before turning to go.
And then, just like that, we are alone. At last.
Mirabella
Matt came back. Like, actually came back. And he has roses. Actual red roses and a box of chocolates and my eyes go wide. This is so much more than I expected. My hand presses to my chest. I feel faint.
But like, actually faint.
My knees go wobbly, and Matt must notice because he drops everything and rushes to me, scooping me up in his arms. He carries me to a bench in the restaurant and lays me down, cradling my head in his hand. “God, are you okay?”
I exhale, blinking slowly. “I think so… You just… surprised me.”
He frowns. “You didn’t think I’d be coming back?”
I breathe him in. He smells like a man, like sweat and sandalwood and a cologne that reminds me of a hike I took once in the Redwoods of California. Not that I’ve been on a hike in years.
“I hoped you would but… I’m not the kind of girl who gets her hopes up too high.”
“And why’s that?” he asks, leaning closer, searching my eyes, as if trying to memorize my very thoughts.
“I know how hard it is when I get let down.” I close my eyes, thinking of the last few years.
“Your brother said you’ve been through hell.”
“Ovarian cancer.” I know the two little words will change the way this strong and capable man sees me. But still, I say them anyways. I’m tired of being half the girl I was. Not saying what I want, what I need. I won’t push this man away. This man who brought me roses and chocolates and who lifted me up, quite literally, so I wouldn’t fall.
“Shit, Bella. You really have been through hell.”
“I’m in remission. Two years. I’ll be okay.”
He runs a hand over my cheek. An intimate gesture, but I don’t shy away from his touch. In fact, my heart slows, my breathing steadies. I welcome it. It’s like I’m ready for it. Ready for him.
“My mom had breast cancer,” he says. “I know how hard it was, how hard she fought. You’re a survivor, Bella. Thank God for that.”
“Is she alive? Your mom?”
He nods. “She is. And so are you.”
“Tony, my brother, he thinks I’m gonna break. But he’s wrong. I’m stronger than he thinks. In his mind, I’m keeping everything in — but I’m not.”
“No?” Matt takes my hand. My fingers wrap around his as if this is something we’ve done a hundred times before. “You have someone to talk to?”
I nod. “Not to get personal, but I have a therapist at my doctor’s office. She helped me process losing my parents when I was a teenager, then getting sick. Everything.” I don’t know why I'm so blunt with him… but I think I’m testing him. Wanting to see how he is going to take my truth. I need a man who isn’t scared by it. I need a man who sees me as strong. An asset, not a liability.
“That’s good,” he says. “I work out most days to clear my head. We all need a way to deal with our shit, ya know?”
I lick my lips, sitting up, and he sits next to me. “You really wanted my number?”
He smiles. Shakes his head. “I wanted more than your number. I wanted… hell, when I saw you yesterday, I thought I’d died and gone to heaven. You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”
I roll my eyes. But he takes my face in his hand. “Don’t do that — dismiss my truth. You are, Mirabella. You are something out of a fairy tale. Dark eyes, dark hair, curves that make me…”
“Make you what?” I ask, biting my lip.
“Make me need —” He stops talking then. And instead he pulls me in his arms and kisses me. Soft. So, so soft. I melt against him, his lips the first I’ve ever kissed. His lips the sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted.
My eyes are closed, my heart hums, a whimper escapes me, coming from somewhere deep within.
Finally, we pull apart.
“What happens next?” I ask, my voice a whisper, just as I hear the back door of the shop open.
Matt smiles. “Tonight, you come to Angelina’s on Perry Avenue at eight.”
He stands, takes my hand and kisses the top of it. And then he walks right out the door.
Leaving me breathless, speechless, and utterly smitten.
Chapter Four
Matt
I walk away, grinning like a fool in love. Crazy, maybe, but I know she is the one for me. She wears her heart on her sleeve, and her heart — damn, what a precious thing. But I have a feeling that isn’t how she acts with everyone. Her brother says she is shy… but the Mirabella I know hasn’t acted nervous.
She laid it all out there for me like an open book.
Damn, I want to spend the rest of my life reading each of her pages. Learning every single detail, savoring her words. I want to know her by heart.
When I get home, I make a point to tidy my penthouse up. If the night goes as planned, maybe we’ll end up back here talking till dawn. I text my sister Lucia, not expecting her to answer — she’s always busy at the farm where she works.
Me: Hey… I need dating advice.
Lucia: WAIT, WHAT? MY BACH4LIFE BRO IS DATING?? WHO IS THIS UNICORN?
I chuckle, typing back.
Me: Unicorn is right. I think she’s the one.
r /> Lucia: And I’m just hearing about her?
Me: Well, we met yesterday.
Lucia: If you could see me, you’d know I was rolling my eyes. I’ll believe this when I see you giving her Grandma Angelina’s diamond ring.
I run a hand over my jaw… my sister has no idea. I have plans for the ring. Big ones.
Me: The photo will be coming shortly. Be on the lookout.
Lucia: Wait. Are you for reals?
Me: Yes. Her name is Mirabella and she’s… she’s special.
Lucia: Do you want to talk?
Me: No. I just need advice. Should I ask her brother for her hand in like, marriage?
Lucia: No. This is 2020.
Me: FYI, I expect whoever you date to ask me permission.
Lucia: You are so weird.
Me: Love you too.
Lucia: Well, good luck tonight. And yes, that is sarcasm. Maybe sleep on it before you pop the question.
Me: You know I always listen to my sister’s advice. Will do.
I slide my phone in my pocket, feeling oddly at peace with things. I may be jumping the gun here… but maybe not. Maybe there are crazier things than meeting the girl you are going to spend the rest of your life with.
Once I get to Angelina’s, I park in my reserved spot and head through the back kitchen, clapping my head chef on the back.
“Lucia sent some gorgeous tomatoes over this afternoon,” he tells me. And I check them out, reminding myself to thank my sister for always making sure our produce from Nettle Bank Farm is top notch.
I check in with my right-hand man, Lukas — the floor manager. “The back room will be all ready for you at eight o’clock, boss,” he tells me.
The next few hours fly by. I’m on the floor, checking in with the sommelier when he has a question about a new wine, making sure our regulars are happy and that the kitchen isn’t falling behind.
I own this restaurant. It’s my pride and joy. And I can’t wait to show it off to Mirabella tonight.
Mirabella
I change my clothes four times. This isn’t any old date. It’s the date. The date of my life. Well, technically the only date of my life — but more importantly, it’s a date with Matt. A man whose last name I don’t know, but whose eyes I’ve already memorized.
“I don’t understand. You want to go out with this guy?” Tony is scowling. “In that?”
“In this?” I look down at myself. I have on a fit and flare peach-colored dress that hits above my knees and simple, black three-inch heels. Nothing flashy or showy… though the dress does hug my body perfectly and the neckline is flattering… and clearly Tony disapproves.
“He is gonna get the wrong idea,” Tony says with a frown.
I smirk, grabbing my purse. “The thing is, Tony, this is my life. My body. I get to decide what idea I’m offering up. And frankly, it’s none of your business.”
Tony’s eyes go wide. I never, ever am so blunt or direct. I always nod, say yes, please and thank you, and I’m over it. He thinks I keep everything bottled up, but I feel ready to throw the damn bottle across the room and let it break. If there is a man worthy of my love, he won’t be scared by what is scattered amid the broken glass. In fact, a man deserving of my love won’t mind bleeding a bit in order to hold my heart forever.
I leave the apartment, my heels clicking against the stairs in a satisfying way, and I order an Uber to take me to the fanciest Italian restaurant in town. When I pull up to Angelica’s, my heart flip-flops. I kissed Matt earlier… and yet I know next to nothing about him. I need this night to tell me if it was a burst of chemistry, or if it was the start of the best thing to ever happen to me.
When I walk in the front door, a maître d’ asks how he might serve me. “I’m meeting someone here,” I tell him.
He nods, knowingly. “Of course, Mirabella, right this way.”
My eyebrows lift. How does he know my name? But I don’t ask as we pass tables draped in linens and glowing with candles, couples leaning close, hands resting against one another. The ambiance is like the set of a romance movie. Soft piano music plays and when the maître d’ pulls back a crimson velvet curtain, my heart pounds with anticipation.
Waiting at the table is Matt. He stands and pulls the curtain closed, leaving us alone. My body stirs with excitement as he steps toward me. “You look incredible,” he says, taking me in. “God, your —” He stops himself.
I want to hear it though. “My what?” I press, as he sets his hands on my waist.
“You’ll blush.”
I lick my lips. “Good.”
“I was going to say your tits looking fucking perfect in this dress.”
I close my eyes, heat rising in me. “You were right. That does make me blush.”
“Your cheeks look cute when they get all rosy.”
“You always such a flirt?” I ask.
“No,” he says simply. “With you… it’s like I want to say everything, do everything. Be everything. And yet we’ve just met.”
“I’m not in any rush tonight. We can spend all evening getting to know one another.”
He lifts my chin with the crook of his finger. “I love the sound of that.” Then he kisses me. And this time, I literally swoon. A shiver runs over my skin and I inch closer, wanting him to hold me as he kisses me. Our lips part and his tongue finds mine, and somehow, we melt together in a way I’ve only ever read about. Entirely. All at once. And the idea of him ever letting me go brings tears to my eyes.
“Don’t cry,” he whispers.
“They’re happy tears.”
He brushes them away with his thumb. “Are you hungry, Mirabella?”
I nod. Suddenly starved. Craving him and him alone. My mouth waters.
“Good, because this is my restaurant and the chef has been preparing our meal for hours.”
“You’re the owner?”
“Yeah, my Nonna was Angelica.” He smiles. “You like Italian, right? Considering you work at a pizza shop?”
I shake my head in shock. “If you would have led with the fact that you were Italian, Tony wouldn’t have given you such a hard time.” Matt pulls out my chair, and I take a seat. “Your name doesn’t sound very Italian. And you’re blond.”
He smiles, sitting across from me. “It’s Matteo. And I don’t know about the hair — genetics are weird.”
I beam at him across the candlelight. “So, tell me something else about you I should know.”
He leans in close. “I swear to God I’m falling in love.”
Chapter Five
Matt
“Fuck,” I say, shaking my head. “Too much, too fast?”
Mirabella is looking at me with those dreamy chocolate eyes — but they are wide with bewilderment.
“No… it’s just… maybe we get our appetizers at least before we declare our undying love?” Her voice is deadpanned but there is a twinkle in her eye. We both laugh easily, and I take her hand, our fingers lacing over the white tablecloth. Being with her feels like the most natural thing in the world.
“I just want you to know something, before we get our food — in life, I don’t do things halfway. When I go all in, I don’t mess around.”
“What else have you gone all in with?” she asks.
“This business, for one — when my Nonna died and left it to me, it was nearly bankrupt. But I spent nearly a decade turning it around.”
Mirabella smiles. “Now it’s the poshest restaurant in town.”
“And my sister, Lucia, she’s eight years younger than me, but I practically raised her. I did everything in my power to make sure she felt secure and safe. My mom was in and out of the hospital through her cancer treatment, and it was on me to step up and be the man of the house.”
“You’re a good man, Matteo,” Mirabella says with soft smile. “And I’m glad you came into Sugar and Slice yesterday.”
“Me too,” I say, as Sally, a waitress, brings bruschetta to the table, then pours us both glasses of
dark red wine. “Tell me about how you and Tony came to work there.”
Mirabella smiles, taking a sip of the wine. “It was my parents’ place. They opened it when Tony and I were little.”
“And your Italian father agreed to the name of the joint?”
She giggles. “My parents were hopeless romantics. They were the kind of couple people write love stories about.”
“Maybe we’re those kinds of people too,” I say, my body aching to pull her close for another kiss. Wishing we weren’t sitting here for dinner, and instead wrapped up in one another’s arms.
“Maybe,” Mirabella says softly. “You know, my parents believed in love at first sight. They always talked about the first time they met, in a high school English class. How they just knew. I grew up with that story, and then, after fighting for my life, beating cancer, I guess… what I’m trying to say is… I believe in that sort of love too, and I also believe that life is precious. That there are no guarantees. My parents died in a car crash. They were gone in the blink of an eye. But they had found love, and they didn’t let it pass them by.”
“You’re gonna make me cry, girl,” I tell her, feeling a deep surge of love for this woman I’ve just met. “You know who you are, what you believe—”
She cuts me off, pushing back from the table and standing up. “I also know what I want.”
Mirabella
I am not the sort of person who asks for what they want in life. I’ve spent a lot of years letting Tony keep me under his wing. But I know — knew, really — the moment I locked eyes with Matteo, that I was growing. Changing. Ready for more. Ready for this.
And now, I take a leap of faith.
Matteo pushes his chair back from the table and stands, taking me by the waist and leading me to the plush velvet loveseat in the corner of the curtained room. It’s sensual, this darkened space, and when he sits down, pulling me into his lap, I let my shoulders fall and my body revel in his gentle touch.
The Way To A Man’s Heart: Books 1-10 Page 2