Page 95 of Broken Pieces
“I honestly don’t want to do this again ever, but it’ll be good for the gallery. I’m really proud of you. You’ve worked your ass off for this collection, and it’s really good,” I say hoarsely, my heart swelling with pride.
Her cheeks blush as she looks away, avoiding my gaze, taking a strand out of her hair and placing it behind her ear. “Thanks, I guess,” she whispers.
I grab her soft face with my hands. “Tesoro, look at me.”
She looks up, her eyes gleaming with emotions I can’t pinpoint. Shyness? Pride? Relief?
I give her a soft, quick kiss. “Who knew you were so shy?”
She pushes me jokingly. “Shut up. Let’s cook. I’m starving.”
We fall into comfortable silence as I prepare the vegetables and seasonings and she makes dessert, just enjoying each other’s company.
I have a million things to stress about.
The gala.
The stolen painting.
The threats.
But when I’m with her, I forget everything. I’m not Damian Romano, the ruthless businessman, or the serious mystery guy no one can seem to crack open. There’s no facade, no mask.
I’m…me.
The guy I lost so many years ago; the guy before the money. Before my father’s death.
She makes me want to be the best version of myself, and I don’t know how to ever repay her. Looking over my shoulder, I notice Aria has her concentration face on. Eyebrows furrowing, the tip of her tongue slightly out on top of her bottom lip as she carefully mixes the dry and wet ingredients, making sure she doesn’t overmix them. My heart screams at me to grab her in my arms and simply express my fucking feelings.
I take a big gulp as I go back to prepping our food. I don’t know how to express my feelings, because honestly, I was never taught. I learned how to keep my emotions in check and how to avoid caring for people, but Aria? She knocked down my walls, one by one. With her fiery personality and quirks that I’ve grown to simply fucking love.
One day. One day, I’ll be ready to say those three words.
“Come here, try this,” I say as I take a spoon of the pasta sauce and blow it softly so it doesn’t burn her.
She walks to me and opens her mouth as I feed her with the spoon.
She opens her eyes excitedly and nods. “It’s so good. The kitchen suits you,Damie.”
“Don’t call me that,” I deadpan.
She bats her eyes jokingly. “Yes, sir.”
“That’s more like it.” I wink.
She shakes her head with a laugh, getting back to her baking. I could get used to this. Come home every night, cook together. Come into a house that'sourswith Aria’s personality all over. Hang all her wonderful paintings, family pictures.
She’s my present, and my future. I see no one else, but her. Like a glowing star that infiltrated my heart,brighteningmy life.
Breathinglife into me.
We finish eating dinner as we talk about our day, me completely omitting the whole pictures and threats situation, because the last thing I want to do is worry her.
“Okay, time to try the dessert. Come on!” she says, standing up and grabbing a small plate where she places a few sea salt chocolate chip cookies. She places the plate in front of me and looks at me expectantly. “If it sucks, tell me, okay? Don’t lie to me.”
I nod as I take a bite, letting out a groan of satisfaction. The sea salt is perfectly contrasting with the semi-dark chocolates, and the cookie is crunchy on the outside but chewy on the inside. Fucking perfection.
“Darling, these are the best cookies I’ve eaten in my life,” I say as I get up, grabbing her by the waist and placing a kiss on the top of her head.
