Page 46 of Love It or List It
“Jesus, how many courses are you planning?”
Shopping took an hour and a half because Joe had to go to three grocery stores before he found fresh basil that met his standards.When he got home, Austin had finished washing and putting away the breakfast dishes, and Joe could hear a load of laundry thumping around in the washing machine, but Austin and Pepa were nowhere to be found.Out for her morning physiotherapy slash walk, then.
Joe could’ve taken the opportunity to jerk off in the shower, but if he wanted to cash the checks his mouth had written earlier, he needed to get a move on in the kitchen.He could shower while the biscotti baked.
The day passed in a parody of domestic bliss.Joe cooked, baked, and cleaned the kitchen (he hated leaving the mess until the end), while Austin passed in and out, moving through the house to work on various small jobs.
“I’ve been thinking,” Austin said during one of his visits to the kitchen for water and a snack, “that we should put a more permanent heat source in the breezeway.”
Joe considered that.It was an enclosed structure with some insulation.If they added more and a heat source, there was no reason why it couldn’t be comfortable all four seasons.“Like?”
“I’m not sure.Maybe an old-fashioned wood stove?It could be functional and atmospheric.”
Joe deferred to Austin’s judgement, and the man wandered off in the direction of the breezeway with his water, muttering to himself.Joe figured a fully insulated and heated breezeway was in his future.At least at Christmas they’d have a handy place to sequester the pets so they didn’t get their furry little paws all over Joe’s feast.
By the time dinner rolled around, Joe could admit he might have gone a little bit overboard, but Austin said he didn’t know what risotto was and Joe’s Italian heart couldn’t handle it.
Of course, it took all of three minutes for Joe to realize his mistake.
Austin eyed up the various dishes with curiosity while Joe set them out, and happily accepted his plate.Then he took his first bite and moaned like a porn star trying to entice viewers past the paywall.
Okay, that was probably an exaggeration brought on by Joe’s libido, which was cursing his poor time management.What had he been thinking?He should’ve skipped the biscotti.
Joe took several gulps of red wine and tried to remind his dick that Austin was not talking to him.Austin was currently making heart eyes at his plate like it had offered to put a ring on it.He was not going to suck Joe’s dick, no matter what Joe’s dick thought, because Austin was too busy sucking back veal marsala like it was his job.
Joe drank more wine.He’d picked up two bottles of his favorite Chianti; Austin gave it a curious glance and then shrugged and let Joe pour.He must’ve liked it well enough, because they managed to kill one bottle between them over dinner.
“I gotta ask, where did you learn to cook like this?And please don’t say TikTok.”
Conversation.Good—Joe could do that.“My nonna.Stereotypical Italian grandmother stuff.This is nothing; you should try her peposo.Uh, it’s a beef stew.It’s not fancy, it just tastes like it.”He paused.“And don’t you learn all kinds of shit from TikTok?You told me that was how you fixed the typewriter.”
“That was YouTube,” Austin corrected.He swiped a piece of fresh bread—Joe cheated and got that at a bakery because he only had so much time and kitchen space—through the marsala and popped it in his mouth.“Which is fine, because the typewriter does not have a soul.This”—he indicated the risotto and the plate of caprese salad they’d demolished—“has a soul.”
Joe might have preened a little, but he wasn’t going to own up to it.“Think that might be the Chianti talking.”
Austin polished off his glass.“Well.You might be right.”
The wine had stained his lips dark red.Joe needed something to talk about stat or he wasn’t going to be able to look away.“So, you know whatIdid all day.What did you get up to?”
Austin pulled his lips between his teeth, almost like he was nervous.The apples of his cheeks were pink.“Okay, uh… it’s probably better if I just show you?”
They’d more or less polished off dinner anyway.A little movement would be good.“Sure.”
They took their wineglasses along—refilled from the freshly opened bottle—as Joe followed Austin into the breezeway.Somehow, while Joe was busy with dinner and dessert, Austin had found and installed a wood-burning stove, complete with a round pipe that exhausted through the smaller window.
“Dude,” Joe said.“So when you said you thought the breezeway needed a heat source, you meant, like, today?”
Austin rubbed the back of his neck.He had his hair up again, the better, he said, to not get any risotto in it.Joe reminded his eyes they should be looking at Austin’s face, but that didn’t help much.“Well, I mean… that was after I found this stuff in the pole barn.They must’ve had something like this before, or maybe they used to heat the barn.”
“Either way, a pretty handy find.”Pepa would be thrilled to discover her favorite room just got cozier.
They moved to the living room and settled on the couch, the bottle of wine on the coffee table between them.
“So.I’m guessing your ex is the biggest idiot on the planet to give you up.No way his new squeeze is hotter or better at cooking.”
Well, that was forward.Also, a bit out of left field.“I mean, he never appreciated my cooking,” Joe admitted with a grimace, “which should have been a signal to me that we were incompatible.”
Austin eyed Joe over his wineglass.“Biggest.Idiot.”
