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I pulled out and spun her around to face me. I needed to see her when I told her. Holding onto her hips like an anchor, I stared into her eyes and whispered, “I’ve never said the words to another woman and I never will. Only you are the other half of my rotted soul. Ti amo, angelo mio.”
Her expression softened, eyes welling up. “Stop making me cry. I love you, Vito. Ti amo, baby.”
She pressed up on her toes to kiss me, and I took advantage, showing her with my mouth and hands how much I adored her, how much I needed her. This wasn’t passionate; this was a promise. Our futures were every bit as entwined as the vines she tended, every bit as strong as the roots underground. We would build a life together and I was never letting her go.
“I’m never letting you go,” I repeated, this time out loud.
Biting her lip, she gave me another emotional, teary look. “I’m afraid you’ll have to, because your come is running down my legs and I’d like to shower.”
“Monella,” I said, slapping one of her ass cheeks before I turned around to start the shower.
“What does that mean?”
“Brat.”
“Guilty.” She whipped off her t-shirt and stood before me completely bare. Her nipples were hard and waiting for me, so I leaned down to suck on one, rubbing my tongue over the velvety skin. Moaning, she shoved her fingers in my hair. “I think you should shower with me.”
I released her and straightened. “The shower isn’t big enough for both of us.”
In one graceful move Maggie climbed up my body and wrapped her legs around my waist, forcing me to catch her. I held her tight, my arms full of gorgeous naked woman. “There,” she said. “Now we’ll fit.”
“Are you trying to get fucked in the shower?”
Her fingers played with the ends of my hair. “Maybe.”
Dio mio, I loved this woman. “Then we need to hurry. We’ll be landing soon.”
epilogue
. . .
Maggie
One year later
“How does it look?”I glanced at my brother for his opinion. “What do you think? Be honest.”
Mikey surveyed the transformed D’Agostino Speakeasy. I’d named this place—and our line of spirits—after Vito’s family, which my man had appreciated. Like,reallyappreciated. The night I told him would go down as one of our top five hottest encounters, no question.
Tonight, however, instead of our usual setup for a group, there was one lone table, two chairs, and string lights overhead, shining softly on the brick. Soft jazz played in the background.
Mikey nodded. “It looks nice. Romantic. Really, I don’t think you need to worry.”
But I was worried. This was a Big Deal. “I want everything to be perfect.”
“I’m aware. You won’t stop talking about how much you miss him.”
Vito had been in Italy for three weeks and this was his first night back. “I can’t help it.”
“Yeah, well,” Mikey went over and dimmed the lights a little. “I’ll be very glad when our vines mature and you have more to do.”
Unfortunately, that was at least three years away. In the meantime, I kept busy. There was our vodka and gin production, as well as the speakeasy and dining room. We still had fermenting wine to bottle and sell, so Bruce and I tasted and tinkered with our barrels as they aged. I attended a wine conference three months ago and met other vignerons. And I was taking classes at Cornell, in their viticulture program.
So, yeah. Other than not seeing Vito enough, things were going great.
I went over to the mirror on the wall to check my hair. Glancing in the reflection, I tugged on the neckline of my dress. It hadn’t looked this low-cut in the store. But now my boobs, such as they were, practically popped out of this dress.
“You look nice, stop fidgeting,” Mikey said.