Page 33 of Legacy
Delicious.
Deadly.
His eyes roam my face… and then he laughs. A brilliant chuckle, annoyingly perfect gorgeous teeth on display. Then he kisses the tip of my nose.
Sweet.
Innocent.
Disarming.
And I melt.
He brushes his nose against mine, and my heart clenches. Itaches.
I don’t even know his middle name.
But I know the sound of his laugh.
The weight of his gaze.
The way his lips linger too long after every kiss.
Every man I know is iron and steel, brutal and cruel. Yet Angelo…he’s kind?
I may know him. But I want him. Iwantthis.
I need to tell him who I am.
“We should—”
“Have breakfast?” he cuts me off. “I agree.”
He slips out of the bed and begins to dress, casually, like I wasn’t about to spill my life secrets.
“I know the perfect place,” he says. “Just a hole in the wall, but the food is amazing.”
He pulls on a shirt, strides over, and leans down to press a kiss to my lips, like a habit. Like we kiss every morning.
As if I’m his.
“Get ready, Tesoro. I’ll wait for you in the living room.”
And he leaves.
What the fuck am I doing?
***
The hole in the wall is a diner, and it’s so casual and calm I’m obsessed.
It’s a far cry from the lavish restaurants of my father’s world—places where you have to dress for dinner and pretend to enjoy truffle-infused delicacies. Here, the tables bear the marks of years of use, the jukebox plays something old and nostalgic, and the smell of freshly flipped pancakes wafts through the air, warm and inviting.
There’s no pretense here.
It’s real.
Raw.
