Total pages in book: 51
Estimated words: 49490 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 247(@200wpm)___ 198(@250wpm)___ 165(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 49490 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 247(@200wpm)___ 198(@250wpm)___ 165(@300wpm)
“Wow, look at that.” Mateo shook his head in wonder at the jagged opening between Boardwalk Pizza and the old florist shop next door. “I can’t believe we’re finally doing this.”
I set a hand on his hip. “I know what you mean. This is exciting, baby. I’m happy for you.”
“For us,” he corrected. “This is ours. You’re family too, you know.”
I grinned. I did know. Things had changed dramatically since our pizza-bagel bake-off a few years ago. In a twist, the world took notice when a former professional athlete kissed his lover in public.
The media had swarmed Haverton for weeks in the aftermath, hoping for a titillating story that amounted to headlines like, “Football Star Meets His Match Making Bagels.”
Corny much? It was silly, but damn, it was therapeutic too. I hadn’t realized how freeing it would feel to come out on a large scale. I didn’t have to hide any part of my life. I was gay and proud, and I didn’t care who knew or what they thought. From that moment, I’d vowed that the next chapter of my life would be lived out loud. With Mateo.
Don’t jump to conclusions. We hadn’t ridden off in the sunset after the bake-off in a fairy-tale-style happily ever after. We’d taken it one day at a time, slowly building a life together and in the community.
Mateo had moved into my house two and a half years ago. We’d both been a little nervous about it. Living together was a big deal, but we’d known we were ready for it and were committed to each other. Every day we grew as a couple. We were friends, confidantes, lovers. He knew me in a way very few people did, and he let me know him. There were no walls between us, no secrets.
A year ago, the florist on the other side of Boardwalk Pizza decided to retire and offered the Cavarettis first right of refusal. The cousins had jumped at the chance, but real estate prices had risen significantly, and they’d been leery of the cost of renovating the two spaces. I’d offered to become a silent investor and after some intense haggling, I’d finally talked Mateo into taking my money.
“My boyfriend shouldn’t be funding my business,” he’d griped.
“I’m investing. It’s different.”
“Hmph. I’m not putting bagels on the menu. That’s a hard no.”
I’d laughed and kissed him. “No pizza bagels?”
“We’ll save those for special occasions.”
And we did. The Pizza-Bagel Bake-off was now an annual event that attracted fans and tourists from across the globe. We didn’t compete anymore. Instead, we hosted aspiring chefs in the area while still raising money for the community.
“We should go. Amber made the reservation for six thirty.”
“Yeah, I know. Vanni reminded me twenty times today.”
I widened my eyes. “Do you think he proposed?”
After a solid year of heavy flirting, Vanni had finally worked up the courage to ask Amber on a date. Two years later, they were still going strong. Amber’s no-nonsense dynamo personality meshed well with Vanni’s slightly chaotic self. Now we were both regulars at Sunday dinner. Kind of amazing…and very cool.
I was happy for my friend. And myself.
I’d found my place. The best thing I’d ever done was come back to Haverton. It was home.
Correction…Mateo was home.
“No wedding bells yet, but they’re moving in together,” he said, fastening his seat belt. “Act surprised.”
“Did Vanni tell you that, or are you guessing?” I checked the rearview mirror before pulling onto Main Street.
“Call it an educated guess. He left his keys on the counter under a yellow sticky note that read, ‘Meet new landlord 4.’” Mateo shook his head indulgently. “I don’t know where it’s at, so that part will be news.”
I snickered. “I love it. And it makes sense. Amber’s lease is up soon.”
“Hmm. I could still be wrong, but I don’t think they’re getting engaged. Not yet, which is good.”
“Why is that good?”
“ ’Cause we’re getting married first,” Mateo replied matter-of-factly.
I grinned, sparing my man a sideways glance. “Oh?”
“Yep. I’ll ask you this summer to make it official, or you’ll ask me. No, you know what we should do? Flip a coin.”
I barked a laugh. “That’s so unromantic.”
“Heads you ask, tails I ask,” he continued undeterred. “I’ll make it totally romantic, though. Don’t worry about that. Sunset at the beach, down on one knee… ‘Baby, I love you, will you marry me?’ ”
I veered right onto Highway 1, noting nature’s impossibly beautiful display of oranges, reds, and pinks painted across the evening sky.
“Just like that?”
“Well…yeah. If you hate that idea, we can go somewhere. Maybe Hawaii. I haven’t been there in a while. Or San Francisco, or Tahoe, or—”
“No, I think I’d prefer to be home.”
“Me too.”
I pulled into the restaurant’s parking lot, stepped out of the SUV, and met Mateo on the passenger side. “Look at that.”