Read Online A Little Slice of Heaven by Gina Ardito - Free Book Online
Authors: Gina Ardito
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Kyle avoided any issues with Gianna for almost thirty-six hours. Then she cornered him, and he forgot all about his vow to keep her from getting under his skin. His only excuse was she caught him at the end of another grueling shift, and exhaustion had stolen his willpower. Who knew she could be so devious?
Once the last patrons had exited the restaurant and the doors were locked, she approached him, a porcelain cup of cappuccino and a cannoli in her hands.
“ Ah,” he said, eagerly reaching for the treat. “You’ve already learned my weakness. Not good.”
She sat across from him, eyes glistening with what he thought was concern. “How's everything going? Are you comfortable upstairs? Do you need anything?”
In hindsight, he should have realized the interrogation was a set-up. Blissful in his idiocy, he simply bit into the confection, savoring the mini chocolate chips and sweet cream surrounded by a crisp shell. Swallowing, he replied, “Everything's fine. I appreciate everything you’ve done for me.”
As always, the foreign words tripped his tongue, yet she smiled as if he'd presented her with a rope of perfect pearls.
“ Do you appreciate me enough to return the favor?”
Caught. By a cannoli.
He took another bite for sustenance. “I suppose. Why? What did you have in mind?”
“ You know that wedding Claudio told you about?” She traced curlicues into the tablecloth beside his untouched cappuccino. “It's a week from next Saturday, and I still need a date. Think you might be interested?”
“ Maybe.” Last bite. Could he stall until the dessert euphoria passed? “What's the big deal about this shindig?”
“ No big deal. Just a wedding.” A hint of anger laced her words, but he let her speak without drawing attention to her mood shift. “I used to work with Frank and Rachel. From what I've heard, this is going to be a big, splashy affair—two hundred guests at a catering hall called The Crystal Palace. Of course, no one needs to know how we met and we work together or anything. We’ll rent you a nice tux—”
“ God, no.” Jeez, the idea of a rental tux made his flesh crawl, and the cannoli threatened to do an about-face in his stomach. “What I mean is, I can get my hands on a tux.”
She cocked her head. “Really? Where?”
“ From a friend.”
“ Wait a minute.” Beneath the stained glass lamp, her eyes narrowed slightly. Only an excellent gambler would have caught the subtle change, the expression used before calling someone’s bluff. Lucky Kyle was an expert gambler. “You know someone who’ll give you a tuxedo for nothing, but this person wouldn’t help when you needed a place to stay?”
He shrugged. “What can I say? I need a better caliber of friends.”
“ That’s an understatement.”
She propped her chin on her hand. A tendril of black hair fell from its ponytail confines to settle between her eyes, and she blew the hair atop her head. Kyle stared at the small O her lips formed. By God, what he wouldn’t give to feel those lush red beauties on his own lips. They looked as velvety as rose petals, and he’d bet they tasted better than the Napoleon brandy he’d longed for on the night he first met her.
Unaware of where his fantasies led, she leaned to take the plate. Hesitating, she pointed at the coffee cup. “Are you going to drink that?”
Doubtful. Too much heat already infused his insides. “No,” he said. “Thanks, anyway.”
As she drew near, his fingers itched to release her hair, to pull that black cloud free and feel the silky softness against his skin. Then he’d kiss her until the world stopped revolving. Given the chance, he’d begin his onslaught at the nape of her long, delectable neck. He’d plant slow, moist kisses, gentle as morning mist, along her sweet flesh. While easing his way from the bottom of her ear to the curved juncture where her shoulder met her throat, he’d pay particular attention to the pulse
****
Kyle avoided any issues with Gianna for almost thirty-six hours. Then she cornered him, and he forgot all about his vow to keep her from getting under his skin. His only excuse was she caught him at the end of another grueling shift, and exhaustion had stolen his willpower. Who knew she could be so devious?
Once the last patrons had exited the restaurant and the doors were locked, she approached him, a porcelain cup of cappuccino and a cannoli in her hands.
“ Ah,” he said, eagerly reaching for the treat. “You’ve already learned my weakness. Not good.”
She sat across from him, eyes glistening with what he thought was concern. “How's everything going? Are you comfortable upstairs? Do you need anything?”
In hindsight, he should have realized the interrogation was a set-up. Blissful in his idiocy, he simply bit into the confection, savoring the mini chocolate chips and sweet cream surrounded by a crisp shell. Swallowing, he replied, “Everything's fine. I appreciate everything you’ve done for me.”
As always, the foreign words tripped his tongue, yet she smiled as if he'd presented her with a rope of perfect pearls.
“ Do you appreciate me enough to return the favor?”
Caught. By a cannoli.
He took another bite for sustenance. “I suppose. Why? What did you have in mind?”
“ You know that wedding Claudio told you about?” She traced curlicues into the tablecloth beside his untouched cappuccino. “It's a week from next Saturday, and I still need a date. Think you might be interested?”
“ Maybe.” Last bite. Could he stall until the dessert euphoria passed? “What's the big deal about this shindig?”
“ No big deal. Just a wedding.” A hint of anger laced her words, but he let her speak without drawing attention to her mood shift. “I used to work with Frank and Rachel. From what I've heard, this is going to be a big, splashy affair—two hundred guests at a catering hall called The Crystal Palace. Of course, no one needs to know how we met and we work together or anything. We’ll rent you a nice tux—”
“ God, no.” Jeez, the idea of a rental tux made his flesh crawl, and the cannoli threatened to do an about-face in his stomach. “What I mean is, I can get my hands on a tux.”
She cocked her head. “Really? Where?”
“ From a friend.”
“ Wait a minute.” Beneath the stained glass lamp, her eyes narrowed slightly. Only an excellent gambler would have caught the subtle change, the expression used before calling someone’s bluff. Lucky Kyle was an expert gambler. “You know someone who’ll give you a tuxedo for nothing, but this person wouldn’t help when you needed a place to stay?”
He shrugged. “What can I say? I need a better caliber of friends.”
“ That’s an understatement.”
She propped her chin on her hand. A tendril of black hair fell from its ponytail confines to settle between her eyes, and she blew the hair atop her head. Kyle stared at the small O her lips formed. By God, what he wouldn’t give to feel those lush red beauties on his own lips. They looked as velvety as rose petals, and he’d bet they tasted better than the Napoleon brandy he’d longed for on the night he first met her.
Unaware of where his fantasies led, she leaned to take the plate. Hesitating, she pointed at the coffee cup. “Are you going to drink that?”
Doubtful. Too much heat already infused his insides. “No,” he said. “Thanks, anyway.”
As she drew near, his fingers itched to release her hair, to pull that black cloud free and feel the silky softness against his skin. Then he’d kiss her until the world stopped revolving. Given the chance, he’d begin his onslaught at the nape of her long, delectable neck. He’d plant slow, moist kisses, gentle as morning mist, along her sweet flesh. While easing his way from the bottom of her ear to the curved juncture where her shoulder met her throat, he’d pay particular attention to the pulse
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