Page 59 of Indulging Temptation (Tempting the Heart #1)

I don’t want to work for a paycheck. I want to work so that I can make a difference. So that maybe one day, when I’m old and gray, I can look back at my life and see that all this pain and hurt didn’t define me, but it made room for brighter days ahead.

But when I woke up today, and stared at the ceiling like I always do, with dread lodged in my stomach, trying to prepare myself to get out of bed, to once again only go through the motions, I knew that I needed something to change, or I would have to take matters into my own hands.

Altering the course of my life…permanently.

I needed a sign.

A miracle.

Something.

Anything to make me not feel this way anymore.

Recognizing this shift within myself, but not sure what to do with it, I went to the first place I could think of to get some air and to think. I went to the park by the bakery I used to go to when my family was still the five of us Amato’s. Free from tragedy. All here. All alive.

I sat on the bench outside the bakery doors. I had my phone in my hand, ready to call my dealer to have him meet me with something strong enough to help me disconnect, and maybe if I was lucky, it’d have enough potency to put me out of my misery.

But before I could make the call, a text came in.

From the one person that makes my heart do something it only seems to do when they are around me, or when I see their name flash on my phone…feel.

My heart began to do freakin’ somersaults in my chest, the more I read the text message over and over.

It was Lorena. Asking me to come over. Saying that she needed me.

She. Needed. Me. Of all people, to be there for her.

As stupid as it sounds, it felt like a ray of sunlight, strong and determined to peek through the storm clouds that have become the landscape of my life.

Seeing her name. Seeing that she needed me. It all snapped me out of the fog I was in. I didn’t know what she needed. I didn’t care. All I knew was that whatever I was feeling, I needed to put to the side to be there for the person who has meant more to me than she’ll likely ever know.

When I got to her mom’s apartment, she greeted me with a hug unlike any she’s ever given me.

It was tight. Warm. Full of sadness. And as I breathed in her scent, I felt a sense of peace wash over me.

Peace I’ve longed for, and it continued to consume me the entire time I was with her, and all throughout preparing a simple meal for her brother, her mom, and her to enjoy.

A meal that none of them had the energy to prepare, since grief does that to people.

It stops them in their tracks, making the simplest of tasks feel monumental.

And it was in those hours I spent preparing, cooking, serving, and cleaning up that meal we shared in silence, that I finally felt that purpose I was craving.

I finally realized what I was put on this earth to do.

It was to not erase my hurt, but to channel it, mold it into something that others could consume on their best days and their worst.

She saved me and broke the curse of the storm clouds, opening me up to a brighter sky.

And one day, when I open my restaurant, I’ll make it a tribute to her.

It’s one of the few words I know that’s the same in Spanish as it is in Italian.

Mi cielo.

My sky.

My heaven.

That’s what Lorena is to me. My piece of earthly heaven that inspired me to live again. Taking things one day and one dish at a time.

Tears threaten my eyes as I finish reading. I see the written recipe scribbled down of what he made us that night when I texted him for help, not realizing that I was the one who helped him.

I turn to face him, and the second our eyes meet, I feel the tears I’ve been holding back this entire time sneak their way past.

“Oh my god, Tino, I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be, mi cielo.”

Now hearing him say it brings a whole new meaning to it. And the tears I’ve kept at bay begin to stream down my cheeks.

Being the man that he is. Always thoughtful, full of passion, and more than I probably deserve in this life and in the next, he kisses where the tears fall. Cleaning up their mess.

Trying to compose myself, I inhale, sniffling. “Why didn’t you tell me this before?”

“I didn’t know how to.” The natural deep rasp of his voice is threatened by emotion, cracking.

“I didn’t want to burden you. But I knew that this thing between us.

The way our bodies have always spoken for our hearts.

As beautiful as it is. As fucking euphoric as it feels.

I knew that I couldn’t keep going on like this.

Without you knowing what you mean to me. ”

I step back, needing to see him, needing to tell him how proud I am of him for staying, how sorry I am that he suffered for as long as he has in silence, and how honored I am to have a part in making him realize just how talented he is.

I remember feeling so sad. I felt like I wanted to claw my way out of my skin.

The grief, the weight of it all, felt like it was getting to be too much.

Though the truth is, he saw that night as me saving him, but his presence and the gift he gave us, with something as simple as a homecooked meal, it saved me.

It gave me a place to escape to. He gave me a comfort that he wasn’t even aware of.

A comfort that no one except for him has ever been able to make me feel.

Eyes glassy, full of emotion, Tino leans in for another kiss, before pulling me in for a hug that feels like…home.

So much so that I can’t help what comes out of my mouth next.

“I…” I begin, but he pulls me away just enough that he can press a finger to my lips to quiet me.

“ I know, and I love you too.”

He’s right…I do.

But not just that.

He loves me.

He.

Loves.

Me.

Me… Lorena Ramos, who has sworn off relationships. Doing everything in my power to avoid moments exactly like this one, is loved by someone that I want to be loved by.

I can’t believe it.

“Why didn’t you let me say it first?” I ask, feeling slightly robbed of my opportunity.

“Because I know how difficult that is for you to admit.”

“Loving you isn’t difficult, Tino.”

“You sure about that?”

“Yes. I’m sure,” I reassure him, because it’s not. It was allowing myself to admit that I deserve and want love, that was the difficult part, not him.

Hope beams on his face, and if I could see my reflection, I know that the same is looking back at him.

“I know life is scary. Love even more so. But take it from someone who was willing to give up their own life before they could experience what true love is, life is nothing without love, and love will have you focus on living, instead of what happens to us afterwards. We’ve both lived through loss.

We’ve both seen the wreckage it causes the heart.

But what’s the point of living if we don’t do it with unapologetic love?

I don’t know about you, but I’d rather live my life in love, knowing that someday I will grieve the love I was fortunate enough to experience, giving me hope for a reunion of the soul, instead of living life going through the motions.

You saved me that night, and every night since.

Please take a chance on me, and let me love you out loud, the way I’ve loved you in silence.

Please , for the love of whatever is up in the sky, can you be mine? ”

I’m hearing everything he’s saying. All of it.

Every single word feels like a suture to my soul.

I’m so overcome with gratefulness. With love.

I don’t know what to say that will echo the sentiment of his words.

Though my stubbornness prevails, even now, and my default to sarcasm leaks through a bit.

“I just said I loved you. Doesn’t that imply I’m yours? ”

“Technically, you said I love you too. And then you verified that loving me, in fact, is not difficult. Which I call bullshit on.” He grins, lightening the mood.

“Tino,” I say his name teasingly. “You smartass!”

“Oops,” he jokes.

“I guess you’re right.” I take a deep breath. Nerves wreaking havoc all over my body.

It’s time to tell him. To sum up how his dimpled smile makes it impossible not to smile back at it, no matter my mood.

To let him know that the little things he does, like memorizing all my favorite things so I’m always surrounded by something that brings me comfort, makes me feel a level of happiness I never thought possible.

Not in this lifetime, or if another exists, then either.

But with him, happiness, love, moments both big and small all have meaning.

It’s time to convey all the ways he drives me wild day in and day out, all while healing a part of me that he wasn’t obligated to mend, but chose to anyway, through three words strung together.

Three words that I wish could do how I feel for him any justice.

“But I don’t just love you. I more than love you. Whatever emotion, descriptor, or word that is more than love. That’s what I feel for you.”

He fist pumps the air. “Fuck yes. You don’t know how long I’ve waited to hear you say that. I feel like the luckiest man on earth.”

I look past him. “You sure about that?” I point at the workstation he seemed to have set up for us. “Because it looks like you’re about to do good on your part of the you teach me, I teach you agreement we had.”

“That’s right. I teach you to cook. Although I prefer being the one to cook for you. But I digress. And you teach me Spanish.”

“Exactly, and at least you have a basic understanding of the language to work off of, whereas my cooking skills begin and end with putting a piece of bread in a toaster,” I laugh.

“Well, that’s about to change.” He claps with excitement… with pride .

“?Tu promento?”

“What’s that mean?

“It means, do you promise.”

“Thank you, that means a lot.”

“Of course.”

“So this is really why the restaurant is closed? All so we could cook together?”