Page 11 of Bittersweet

When he recovers, Elio cups my face and presses a kiss to my forehead before turning and heading down the stairs. I stand there like an idiot blinking afterhim.

A forehead kiss. A freaking forehead kiss? What’s a girl gotta do to get a man to lay one on her these days—or layonher? I sigh and head inside, and even though it was only a forehead kiss, I close the door and float for the whole rest of theevening.

5

Romy

Dear lovers,

There’s one aspect of wedding planning that is often overlooked, left to the last minute: choosing your bridallingerie.

Of course, you need something that works with your gown. This is not the time for that leather Agent Provocateur number with the bolts and chains, even if your groom will be unlocking your chastitybelt.

You want lingerie that makes you feel sexy. Choose material that is soft and sensual—silks, high-end lace—and cuts that flatter your body, whatever your shape may be. Remember to choose garments that can be removed without too much difficulty. Sexy is having him unwrap you like a present. Unsexy is needing a degree in physics to get you out of yourgear.

Whatever lingerie you choose, make sure it’s sex-appropriate. This is not the time for those granny panties, ladies, no matter how much they suck your stomach in! In fact, throw those out right now, because if your man needs you to wear them, he’s not the man foryou.

Love,

Romy

When you’rea wedding blogger at the top of your game, timing iseverything.

It’s not just about getting exclusives on the best weddings, showcasing the most dream-worthy dresses and knowing how to make a couple’s life seem like a love story—although it is those things, andmore.

It’s also about being on the scene when it mattersmost.

Getting the scoop before the rest of theworld.

That’s why I lace my Alexander McQueen trainers, even if the fit is a little snug, ready for an afternoon hiking at Pikes Peak. According to her Twitter feed, Kenna McPherson is about to reveal the details of her engagement, and I plan on being the first to post aboutit.

I head downstairs, tugging my jacket around my body.Is this tighter than it was lastseason?

Nice work, Romy. You’ve put onweight.

Again.

As I pass the internal door connecting my apartment’s stairwell to the bakery, I glance inside. Is it really any wonder I have trouble staying away from this man’s baked goods when they taste sogood?

Elio wipes down the countertops, the muscles in his arms flexing with the movement. I press one hand against the glass, almost like a visitor watching an animal at thezoo.

Hecooks.

Hecleans.

Ladies, get inline.

He takes the cloth he was using and heads into the kitchen.Thatbutt. . .

Before I can get caught in yet another compromising position, I turn and head to the front door, pushing it open and exiting onto the street. I have to admit, these last few days it’s felt like Elio and I are . . . we’re something. Making progress. Taking a step in a newdirection.

I just hope it’s the direction of a blossoming new relationship, and not into the path of an oncomingtrain.

“Romy!”

Elio?

He walks out the front of Bittersweet, pulling the door closed. “Hey.”

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