Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 68628 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 343(@200wpm)___ 275(@250wpm)___ 229(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68628 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 343(@200wpm)___ 275(@250wpm)___ 229(@300wpm)
“I love you, Adriano,” I say, as I curl up on his chest and his arm comes around me. “I love you.”
“And I love you. I love you, Quinn, so much more than words can say.” He holds me to his chest and plants a fierce kiss on my forehead.
But he doesn’t have to say another word.
CHAPTER THIRTY
“SQUEE!”
Quinn
“If you’re trying to buy my love and affection,” I begin, my brows furrowed at Adriano while I hold the keys to my shop. I shrug and wink. “It’s working.” I grin. “Oh my God, this is amazing!”
Adriano has bought me a freakin’ chocolate shop.
On Newbury Street.
And not one of these imposters that has a fancy-ass name outside and prepackaged candies and bars inside you could buy at any old convenience store. Nosiree.
This is the real deal.
He shrugs. “Good. Wait until you see the build-your-own-peanut-butter-cup display.”
“Shut up!” I say. “Are you even serious right now?”
“Yup.”
It isn’t often Adriano looks like a boy, but right now, he’s got a boyish grin that melts my heart. “Go on,” he says. “Go look.”
“Some husbands buy their wives flowers,” I say smugly to myself, as I push open the door to the shop. “Mine bought me an Italian chocolate shop.”
The exterior is a sight to behold with sleek marble, golden lettering, and elegantly hand-lettered signs in deep cocoa and gold.
Decadent hot chocolate
Hand-dipped chocolate-covered strawberries
Assorted truffles
Handcrafted ganache
“Here,” he says. “We had a little write-up posted online. We open Friday.”
Welcome to "Cioccolato," a gourmet chocolate shop that celebrates the art of Italian chocolate. Located in the heart of the city, this gourmet establishment is a tribute to the rich chocolate traditions of Italy.
The interior is designed to evoke the charm and charisma of an Italian café with cozy ambience.
The focal point of the shop is a stunning chocolate waterfall at its center, crafted by renowned chocolatiers. It features an array of meticulously handcrafted bonbons, truffles, and pralines nested on shelves, each a masterpiece of artistry and flavor.
Cioccolato prides itself on sourcing the finest ingredients from Italy's most renowned regions, offering a curated selection of single-origin chocolates from regions such as Piedmont, Tuscany, and Sicily.
Cioccolato is not just a chocolate shop but an oasis for connoisseurs seeking an authentic, luxurious, and unforgettable experience…
“Are you even serious right now?” My heart beats faster as I read, and re-read, and re-read the little write-up all over again. We’re two miles from the North End and about the same distance from Bella Notte. Our apartment in the city is also only a few miles away—just far enough that I’ll have some space but not so far that Adriano won’t pop in for a hot chocolate on a moment’s notice.
“I’ll never stop talking, though,” I say wistfully as I gaze over every intricate detail. “And I don’t have any experience making chocolate.”
He shrugs and shoves his hands sheepishly into his pockets. “I’ve hired staff. You just ‘oversee’ operations.”
“And your job?”
His eyes smolder while he stares at me. “You know very well what my job is.”
I bite my lip. Why yes, I do.
“Thank you,” I say, and I hope he knows that I’m not just thanking him for the shop. It’s been weeks since our big fight and we’ve never been better. Adriano scoffed at my suggestion for anger management classes, which I knew he would, but he’s found other ways to work out his… aggression.
Squee!
“There’s something else I want to tell you,” he says, pulling me up against his chest so my head is under his chin, his arm wrapped around me, and I’m tucked up against him.
“Oh?” Call me weird, but I sure as fuck love it when he nuzzles my hair with that stubble.
“Sergio and I agreed that we’re doing away with the timeline. We asked you for six months. It’s no longer necessary.”
I look over my shoulder at him. “Oh, you think you’ll get rid of me that easily, do you?”
“Of course not,” he says on a grin. “Why the fuck do you think I bought you this shop?”
“It wasn’t because of my charm and earth-shattering blow jobs?”
He pauses as if thinking it over. “It was absolutely because of your charm and earth-shattering blow jobs. Get over here.” He spins me around and pulls me to him before he gives me a deep, toe-curling kiss that makes me melt. I sigh contentedly.
“We could have a lot of fun with that chocolate fountain,” I say suggestively.
“And break every health code in Boston?” But I know the spark in his eyes well. And Adriano was never one to care about pedestrian things like health codes, anyway.
EPILOGUE
“THE RECEPTION”
Quinn
Today marks a special day. Today is our six-month anniversary. I'm normally not one to celebrate small anniversaries, and normally, I wouldn't even consider it an anniversary unless it was our one-year, but this one means something.
For both of us.