“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.

  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.

  He runs his fingers over my bare skin, the heat between us growing as we inhale, savoring this moment for what it is — the beginning of our love story. We feel it — know it — and won’t let it pass us by.

  “God, Bella, you make me feel alive.”

  I close my eyes, our noses brush, our lips meet. I whimper as he kisses me, and I run my hands over his chiseled jaw.

  He pulls me closer, and I feel his thickness, feel the way my pussy drips with excitement. I feel so ready for what comes next. I’ve been waiting for this moment my entire life.

  He runs his hands under my dress, and he groans as he takes hold of my ass, his fingers under my panties, my entrance welcoming and wet. I lick my lips, nodding my need.

  “Please,” I whisper. “Touch me.”

  He kisses me deeply as his fingers push my panties aside, and he strokes me the way I crave. Slowly, deliberately, making me delirious. He eases me back onto the sofa, then moves to the floor, on his knees. I bite hard on my bottom lip as his head dips under my dress, and he teases down my panties, past my knees, my ankles, then he spreads me open. Ready for dinner.

  “I want to make you come, baby,” he tells me.

  I close my eyes, his tongue running over my slit, making me moan softly, not expecting it to feel so good. So much better than whenever I touch myself.

  His fingers massage the outside of my pussy, warming me up and helping the tension mount. I move my skirt aside so I can touch his shoulders, his head, feel him as he licks me. His tongue swirls around my clit expertly, making my knees tense from the growing pleasure.

  “That feels so good,” I tell him as he adds a finger to my hole, teasing me open in a brand-new way. My pussy is tight, and when his fingers fill me, a new sense of want washes over me.

  “You’re so wet, Bella,” he tells me, kissing my inner thighs, my mound — not at all rushing this. His fingers dip deep inside me, and he looks me in the eyes as I pant, the pressure mounting in the most delicious way.

  “I’m gonna come,” I whimper. “You going to make me come…”

  And then the pleasure reaches its peak, the glorious rush of emotions flood my body as heat rises from my toes to my core, my heart pounding and my soft moans demanding to be heard. He fingers me as I come for him, and he dips his mouth to my pussy, licking me up as I finish, as my shoulders shiver, the surge of emotions overtaking me.

  He sits on the couch, next to me, pulling me against him. “You taste so good.”

  “That mean we don’t have to stay for dinner?” I ask, with a big smile.

  “What did you have in mind?”

  “I was hoping,” I say, kissing Matteo again, “that maybe we could get dessert back at your place.”

  Chapter Six

  Matt

  When we get to my penthouse, I can tell Mirabella is overwhelmed. Her eyes go wide as she looks around the sleek apartment.

  “This is where you live?” she asks, surprise in her voice.

  “I know it's not very warm and cozy,” I tell her, looking around the black leather and concrete countertops, the matte finish appliances.

  “It's just so fancy,” she says. “If you saw my place, the apartment Tony and I share — I don't know, I kind of feel out of my league.”

  “Hey,” I say stepping toward her, the crook of my finger lifting her chin so our eyes meet. “It doesn't matter where we come from, it matters where we want to go, and Mirabella, I want to go there with you. I would give you the world.”

  “You're sure?” she asks. “Because I feel like we come from different places, we’re opposites, and—”

  “You're going to let that stop you from having what you want?” I ask her.

  She licks her lips — lips that taste like cherry pie, that are pink and swollen from our earlier kisses.

  “No,” she says, “I won't let that stop me. I feel like I’m in some sort of fairy tale.”

  “Maybe you are,” I tell her. “This can be our fairy tale.”

  “I like the sound of that,” she says.

  “So do I,” I tell her, taking her hand and leading her through the apartment, past the kitchen and living room, the library, my guest bedrooms, and finally the master suite. “This is where we can grow old,” I tell her with a smile.

  She laughs. “I see you're not taking this lightly.”

  “I'm not. I mean it, Mirabella, I'm really fucking into you.”

  “I’m into you too,” she admits. “I’m like, all into you.”

  “Good,” I tell her. “Now, where did we leave off?” I run my hands over her back, my fingers feeling for the zipper of her peach-colored dress. My cock is so hard for her and my mind is ablaze with the taste of her sweet pussy. The way her juicy cunt dripped for me, the way I dreamed it would. God, she's so much more than I ever imagined.

  “What next?” I ask, kissing her shoulders.

  “I think you take me to that giant bed. Naked.”

  I chuckle. “You really do know what you want, don't you, baby?”

  She laughs. “I do, but I have to warn you. I've never done this before.”

  “That's okay, baby. I got you. We can take it nice and slow.”

  She laughs. “Or hard and fast.”

  I shake my head, laughing. “You really are made for me, aren't you?”

  “I think so, Matteo.” Her eyes sparkle as we quickly undress. It doesn't take long. We’re eager to have our skin pressed against one another.

  She seems ready as she stands before me in her lacy bra and satin panties. I groan. “God, you’re just so hot, Mirabella,” I say. “Really fucking hot.”

  Every inch of her is perfect. Curves for days, big tits that I'm eager to kiss, to suck, to please. I unhook her bra so I can see them more fully and I dip my mouth to her nipples, swirling my tongue around the hard buds. She drops her head back, teasing her panties down past her hips, letting them fall to the floor. Her fingers hook on my boxers and my cock groans.

  I feel like the luckiest man in the world with my virgin girl. Her innocence makes me feel like a man — like her man, like a man who can truly give her what she needs.