If anyone had told even a little over a year ago that I would be sitting in a sunlit bakery, spoon-feeding cake to my husband while he smirked like the devil himself, I would have laughed. Or maybe even cried. But here we were and sohow, this was my life now.
The day had started beautifully. Jace had insisted on driving himself instead of letting Tomas play chauffeur. Tomas was still in LA. He was basically on vacation after all the chaos of the last few months.
Jace said he wanted "a proper date," which made suspicious because, knowing him, that usually ant sothing outrageous. But no, we ended up in a cozy bakery downtown, one of those quaint places with pastel walls, fresh flowers on every table, and the warm scent of sugar and butter that wrapped around you the second you walked in. It almost made wish I had a branch of my bakery here in LA.
Our wedding planner, Cecilia, was already there, waiting with a clipboard and that professional sparkle in her eyes. "Mr and Mrs Romano, you two are late," she said, though she was smiling.
"Traffic," Jace replied smoothly, helping out of my coat before pulling my chair out like a perfect gentleman.
I gave him a look. "You were the traffic, Jace. You missed two turns."
He smirked. "Maybe I wanted the drive to last longer."
Cecilia made a sound between a sigh and a laugh. "Okay, lovebirds. Focus. We have seven flavors to try today — classic vanilla, chocolate truffle, red velvet, lemon chiffon, coconut cream, pistachio rose, and strawberry champagne."
I turned to Jace with wide eyes. "Seven?"
He shrugged. "We can handle seven."
I arched my brows. "You do realize this isn’t a competition, right?"
"Everything’s a competition in my books," he murmured, low enough that only I heard.
I shook my head, fighting a smile.
The first slice arrived. It vanilla with buttercream so smooth it looked like silk. Jace leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand, watching too intently for soone who was supposed to be evaluating cake.
"Try it," Cecilia encouraged.
I cut a small piece and offered it to Jace first. He didn’t even reach for the fork. Instead, he leaned forward and took it straight from the utensil, his lips brushing the tip of my fingers on purpose.
"Jace," I hissed, trying not to laugh.
"What? I’m just following directions," he said innocently.
Cecilia rolled her eyes but smiled. "You two are ridiculous."
I imdiately turned pink.
He smirked. "She married . It’s too late for regrets."
The next few slices ca in rapid succession. Chocolate truffle which was decadent, rich, sinful. Red velvet has a soft and nostalgic feel. Lemon chiffon was Jace’s favorite, apparently, since he polished off two forkfuls before I could even speak.
When we got to the strawberry champagne, I decided it was my turn to be playful. I dipped my fork into the icing, leaned toward him, and said, "Open up, Mr. Romano."
He obeyed, eyes locked on mine the entire ti. His tongue brushed the fork when he took the bite, slow and deliberate. The move was so bold that I heard the baker behind the counter giggle. My cheeks went up in flas.
"Stop that," I whispered.
"Stop what?" he asked, feigning confusion.
"Looking at like that."
He chuckled lowly, leaning closer. "You an like you’re the best thing I’ve ever tasted?"
The not so hidden aning of his words had my panties drenched. This man!
I bit down a smile, pretending to focus on the cakes. Around us, a few of the staff exchanged knowing looks. One woman actually sighed dreamily.
"Oh my God, they’re adorable," soone murmured from behind the counter.
I covered my face for a second. "Jace, everyone’s watching."
"Good," he said softly, reaching over to brush frosting off the corner of my lip with his thumb. "Let them."
Cecilia groaned dramatically. "I’m officially third-wheeling at my own eting."
We all burst out laughing, the sound light and easy, filling the space between us. Jace was having the ti of his life and I was stuck between embarrassnt and dragging him to the car for a quickie.
By the ti we were done, the table looked like a sugar explosion. I leaned back in my seat, feeling both full and giddy. "So," I asked, glancing at Cecilia, "which one do you think fits us best?"
She smiled. "You tell . You two couldn’t take your eyes off each other long enough for to take proper notes."
Jace reached over, intertwining our fingers. "The strawberry champagne," he said decisively. "It’s her favorite."
I blinked at him. "You noticed that?"
He smiled faintly. "You always pause before your second bite when you love sothing. You did that with this one."
My throat tightened, but I managed a soft, "You pay attention too much."
"I have one job," he whispered back. "Love you properly."
The words hit right in the chest. Even Cecilia went quiet for a mont, pretending to jot sothing down so she wouldn’t intrude.
Who would have thought that one of the most powerful people, the feared and revered Don of the Italian Mafia would be able to love like this, so freely, so openly. It felt surreal. It was a dream I did not want to wake up from.
When we finally stood to leave, the staff waved and called after us, "Congratulations, lovebirds!"
I laughed, covering my face again. "They’re never going to forget us."
"Good," Jace said, slipping an arm around my waist as we walked toward the car. "I want them to rember what it looks like when two people actually get it right."
And just like that , with the late afternoon sun spilling gold across the pavent and his hand warm against my back, I realized that maybe happiness didn’t need to be loud or grand. Sotis it was as simple as shared laughter over slices of cake, and a man who never stopped looking at you like you were still his favorite surprise.
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