9. Chapter Nine

Chapter Nine

Will took advantage of his day off to catch up on paperwork and go to the gym.

And, knowing what he was about to endure, he got off twice. First, in the early morning, hand slicked over his cock, coming all over his stomach, and again, during the shower he took after his punishing workout.

It was all pointless, though, because the moment he walked onto the long porch that ringed the whole first floor of the Sweetheart Inn and saw Enzo leaning against one of the intricately carved support poles, he became hard, instantly.

Enzo, in his paint-smeared clothes, dirty and sweaty and flushed, was hot enough.

Dressed in a pair of dark jeans and a short-sleeved black button-up that clung to his chest and his biceps, his hair curling over his forehead, gaze intent on Will, he was so gorgeous Will wanted to cry with it.

"Hey." Even his voice was deeper and rougher, the sound sliding over Will like velvet over his skin.

"You . . .uh . . .clean up good," Will said. He'd almost decided against saying it, but then he reminded himself that he was supposed to be bowled over by him. That was the whole point of this.

That he looked as awestruck as he felt.

Enzo's grin was crooked and charming. "Well, yeah . I was hardly going to show up in my painting clothes." He paused, maybe just noticing that Will was still hovering in the vicinity of the door, unsure how close they were supposed to get. He knew Joy had been downstairs, and there was almost no way she wasn't watching them now. But he also didn't know how close Enzo wanted him to get. "You gonna come over here?" he murmured, gesturing with one of his hands.

Will didn't typically notice hands. To him, they'd always been tools . But Enzo's were long and slender, beautifully formed, like the works of art he created with them.

"Uh, yeah. Wasn't sure you wanted—"

"Come over here," Enzo said firmly, and a moment later his arms were folding around him, tugging him close. It was just like the other day, except that instead of the sharp-sweet tang of Enzo's sweat, he smelled delicious. Practically freaking edible.

Will slid his hands over his back, felt Enzo's muscles tense and relax and told himself that this ludicrous idea still made perfect sense.

"A day off looks good on you," Enzo said. His fingertips brushed Will's chin.

Will's breath stuttered. Wildly trying to convince himself this was all pretend.

But the look in Enzo's eyes looked so real.

"Uh, thanks?"

"And . . ." Enzo smoothed a hand down his chest. Probably feeling the way Will's heart was rabbiting like crazy. "You look good, too. Real good. Good enough to take a bite out of."

Please do.

But instead of leaning in closer and encouraging him, Will look a step back. It would be so easy to lose himself, to fall into the magnetism of this man, but he needed to resist.

Kate's warning slash reminder was still echoing in his head. He's not sticking around.

"Where are we going?" Will asked. "I'm hungry."

"Me too," Enzo said and waggled his eyebrows.

Will laughed, the sound surprised right out of him. "You're ridiculous." But the over-the-top comment had been a much-needed bucketful of cold water to his desire.

They were play-acting, that was all. Putting on a good show. Enzo had already told him he was going to make it good. So of course it needed to be convincing.

"Oh, but sweetheart, you love it." He paused. "Let's go. We've got reservations at Rudy's."

Rudy's was the most popular restaurant in town, and as a result, would be full of Indigo Bay residents, even on a Wednesday night.

No doubt the rumors were already circulating because Enzo had made the reservation for two—though Will supposed they could assume Enzo's plus one was Giana.

Will told himself he was not surprised as Enzo reached out and took his hand, squeezing it gently as they walked down the stairs towards the sidewalk.

It was only a five minute walk from the Inn to the other side of the tiny Indigo Bay downtown, where Eliza sat, on the other side of the park.

"How's the mural coming along?" Will asked, shortening his longer strides to match Enzo's.

At least once he'd been tempted to swing by Cherry's, ostensibly to check on things there, but really to see the mural— or maybe even to see Enzo—but he'd resisted, promising himself he'd get plenty of Enzo tonight.

"More progress," Enzo said. "I've got the outline mostly done. Though I might do some more fine detail."

Will could hear the deep satisfaction of a job going well in Enzo's voice. An undeniable excitement.

"Good. I can't wait to see it tomorrow morning."

"It's not much to look at, yet," Enzo cautioned.

"Says you. Says me, the person without a single artistic bone in their body? It's pretty freaking incredible."

"Aw, my mom was right. You are a fan," Enzo teased as they turned the corner. The park, flanking Indigo Bay's main square, was still green.

"Hard not to be," Will said, shrugging awkwardly. He didn't think he'd be this bad on a regular date. Maybe that was how he should approach this. His palm was damp, and he was afraid he'd gross Enzo out, but he showed no hesitation in gripping it tighter.

They walked around the statue of Eliza, Enzo's gaze skimming over it.

Will thought he was going to make some comment on the artist or his creation, but instead, Enzo turned to him and said, "You're wrong, you know."

"I'm wrong?"

"You have plenty of artistic bones in your body."

"I do?" Will braced himself for Enzo to make some joke about a certain bone, but instead, Enzo's expression turned serious and intent.

"What you've created with Cherry's? That's a form of art. Every time you invent a new, insanely delicious ice cream flavor? Or a new sundae? Or devise a milkshake that makes me want to weep it's so goddamn good? That's art."

"Oh. Oh ." Will couldn't pretend he was anything other than pleased.

"You're very talented," Enzo said.

Will grinned at him. "I guess we've both got a thing for competency porn."

Enzo shot him a hot look as Will let go of his hand to open the front door at Rudy's, ushering him inside.

Maybe this wasn't a real date—maybe they were pretending to be crazy about each other—but Will liked treating Enzo like he was special.

Because he was special.

Enzo sauntered through the door and approached the hostess station. "Good evening," he said. "Reservations for two. Moretti."

The young lady had an appropriate reaction to Enzo's appearance.

Enzo believed everyone in town remembered him as only that young, messed up kid. But this girl wouldn't. Not now. Her jaw dropped and well, it made Will feel a little better that at least he wasn't alone in being blown away by how stunning Enzo Moretti was.

"You must be one of Luca's brothers," she said in an awed voice.

"Cousin," Enzo said in clipped tones.

Will didn't think. He just slid up next to him and put his arm around Enzo's waist, tugging him closer in what no doubt looked to everyone else like a firm declaration of possession.

Enzo leaned into him, glancing up at him from under those curling black lashes. Did he even flutter them a little?

Jesus, he was potent.

No wonder the hostess was stammering, searching through her tablet.

"I requested a booth," Enzo said. He glanced up at Will, longer this time, his gaze going positively gooey. It's fake, it's fake, it's all goddamn fake. "So I can cuddle with this handsome hunk of a man."

"He is . . .uh . . .yes," the girl said. "I've got your reservation right here, Mr. Moretti. If you'll follow me."

Will had grown up in small towns. He knew exactly how they were and so did Enzo, obviously, because as they followed the hostess to their table, he was undeniably aware of every gaze in the place following them and the whispers in their wake.

Will kept his arm firmly around Enzo's waist, even though the aisle between the two rows of booths wasn't that big, because he was supposed to be persuading the town they were dating, and if he was really dating Enzo, he wouldn't let go of him for a second.

"Here we are," the hostess announced, stopping in front of a cozy-looking booth.

"Oh, perfect. Thank you," Enzo said, shooting her the most potent smile in his arsenal.

At least Will had believed it was, until Enzo turned to him as he slid into the booth. "You gonna share with me?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

Will's fingers gripped the seat cushions. "Like I'd want to let go of you for a moment," he said.

Enzo beamed, taking his seat next to Will like it had always been his. "Good," he said. "You want some wine? Did you know since Luca moved to Indigo Bay, he's been an unofficial wine consultant for Rudy's?"

"I did hear that rumor," Will said. "But I'm not much of a wine drinker." He shrugged at Enzo's semi-outraged expression. "I grew up in Florida . You think we have decent wineries there?"

"I grew up here and we definitely didn't, but then I moved to San Francisco and lived with Luca's sisters. I wasn't used to real wine, or dry wine, and at first, I didn't like it either. But it grew on me. Now I love it. Especially when we're talking the good stuff, and Luca makes sure they stock the good stuff here."

"For him and Oliver?" Will questioned as Enzo picked up the wine list and began to peruse it.

Enzo nodded. "Do you want to get something else? I was going to get a bottle of this pinot noir, but if you're not going to have any . . ."

"Oh, maybe I'll try some," Will said. After all, what would it hurt? "If you think it's a good starter wine."

Enzo flashed him a smile. "I think you'll like it. Luca mentioned it was nice and fruit forward. Suggested I try it when I said we were coming here tonight."

Will tensed. Realizing for the first time that pretending they were dating for Enzo's mom meant they were pretending to date for everyone else, too, including friends like Oliver and Luca. Friends he didn't particularly want to lie to.

"What did you say to him?" Will asked, hoping his question sounded casual enough.

"You mean, did I tell him the truth?" Enzo's voice dropped lower, and he slid in closer, practically murmuring into Will's ear. If anyone saw them together, they'd believe, no question about it, that they were incredibly intent on each other. That they didn't even see anybody else.

"Yeah," Will said.

"I told him I was taking you out on a date, and he told me I had good taste," Enzo said, grinning. "Don't worry, I didn't lie. Just slightly stretched the truth."

"Alright." Will relaxed. "It's . . .it's awkward, isn't it?"

"Yeah, a little. But we're gonna be just fine." Enzo leaned in even closer. "The real question isn't who we're gonna tell the truth—or who we're not gonna tell—but what I'm gonna call you."

"Yeah?"

"We gotta come up with the best, most convincing pet names," Enzo said.

"Pet names?"

Will looked up and Rocco was standing in front of the booth, a black apron wrapped around his waist, and wearing a polo shirt with Rudy's logo embroidered on the upper right-hand corner.

"I forgot you were working here, too, now," Enzo asked, sounding surprised.

"Rocco's everywhere," Will said. "You still good to stop by on Thursday morning for some quick training?"

Rocco nodded. "Yep. What can I get you to drink? Wine? You know Luca is curating the list these days."

"I was thinking of this Sonoma County pinot noir? What do you think?"

"Oh, that's a good one. Really nice drinkable wine. One of Oliver's favorites. You guys gonna share it?"

"Yep, two glasses. And some of those parmesan cheese straws, alright?" He glanced over at Will. "You good with that?"

"Sounds great. Those are the best."

Rocco leaned in. "You do know they buy those from Oliver's bakery, right?"

Enzo chuckled, and Will felt the sound resonating through Enzo's body, echoing into his own. "I didn't, but I guess I'm not surprised."

Rocco nudged Will. "You're the only one in town who isn't secretly—or not so secretly—buying baked goods from Oliver."

"That's because Will's amazing ," Enzo answered. He draped an arm around Will's shoulders. It couldn't have been that comfortable because Enzo was shorter and smaller, but he didn't hesitate. "Such an incredible baker. Even more incredible than Oliver."

Rocco looked skeptical, and Will couldn't blame him, because he was not a better baker than Oliver. "Sure," Rocco said. "I'll go grab your wine."

When Rocco left, Enzo dropped his arm, but didn't let go of Will completely. Instead one of those beautiful artist's hands wrapped right around his bicep and squeezed. "Now, what about these nicknames?" Enzo said persuasively.

"We can't just call each other Enzo and Will?"

"Oh, we can . But not in public! We need to convince everyone we're falling madly in love."

Will raised an eyebrow. "And if you were falling madly in love with me you wouldn't call me Will?"

"Oh, I would. But my mom doesn't know that. The sappier I am, the more convinced she'll be."

"Okay then. What about baby?"

Enzo shot him an incredulous look. "Really? That's the best you can come up with?"

"Pookie?" Will suggested, scraping the bottom of his brain. "Dumpling? Sweetums?"

Enzo laughed. "Cutie Patootie? Peanut? Boo-Boo?"

And now Will couldn't help but join in. "Where did you even come up with these?"

"My endless imagination," Enzo said, waggling his eyebrows.

Well, Will could at least equal him. "How about Pumpkin?" he suggested.

"Do I look orange to you?" Enzo asked.

Will looked him up and down, waggling his eyebrows suggestively. "I don't know. I haven't seen all of you, yet. Maybe there's a big lumpy orange part."

"Oh, Stud Muffin, I promise you, all of me looks this good." The exaggerated leer Enzo gave him made it clear he wasn't serious, but Will had a feeling that while he was kidding, what he said was actually the truth.

Enzo would look so good without a stitch on. Not just good. Fantastic. Amazing. Tasty enough you wouldn't be able to resist taking a little bite.

"What about Honey Butt?" Will suggested.

Enzo shifted, and something flashed across his face—so quick Will almost missed it, but he was looking for it—that reminded Will of his own conflict. The outwardly pretend ridiculousness compared to his own interior longing.

"I do have a very good ass," Enzo agreed.

It was why Will had suggested it. A ring of truth in the middle of all this ludicrous posturing.

"You do . . ." Will trailed off, realizing he was going to have to say so, in front of the whole of Indigo Bay, including Enzo's mother. "What about Honey Bunny?"

"Oh, that's cute," Enzo said, smiling. Not the over-the-top exaggerated grin of earlier, but something real. "And I'm gonna call you Stud Muffin. If the shoe fits . . ."

"I'm flattered," Will said, but Enzo just rolled his eyes.

"You have mirrors. You know what you look like," Enzo teased. "You're one hundred and ten percent hunk."

"Is that Honey Bunny saying that or Enzo?" Will wondered in a low voice. Hoping Enzo would understand the difference.

"Both," Enzo said.

Rocco arrived with the wine then, opening the bottle with a flourish and presenting Enzo with the taste to verify its quality.

"Okay, this is delicious," Enzo agreed as he swirled the cherry red liquid in his glass. "Really fruity but deep, too."

"I'll tell Luca you approve," Rocco said dryly. His gaze shifted to Will. "Would you like me to pour you a glass?"

"Sure," Will said.

Rocco did so with an adept flick of his wrist, settling the bottle on their table and promising that the cheese straws would be out shortly. "Would you like to order?"

"Oh, Honey Bunny ," Will said, forcing himself to keep an even tone of voice even as Rocco's eyebrows edged up towards his hairline, "what were you thinking? The flank steak with the baked potato and the brussels sprouts?" They hadn't discussed the menu, but he knew what was good here, and he had a feeling Enzo did too.

Enzo nodded. "Medium rare on the steak. What about you, Stud Muffin?"

"Yep, you got it, Honey Bunny."

Rocco burst out laughing. "Are you two okay? Are you drunk already ? I just poured the wine."

Leaning forward, Enzo nodded, shooting Will a rapt look. "We're drunk on love," he said.

"Alrighty then," Rocco said. "Well . . .you enjoy that, and I'll put your food order in."

"I'm not sure he was convinced," Will said once he'd disappeared.

"How could he not be? We were so full of love we were practically vibrating with it."

"Well . . .uh . . ." He knew they were probably overselling their story, but he didn't want to say so, because what if Enzo stopped? Enzo was so pleased with himself, and this was the most fun Will had had in months. Maybe years.

If he was honest, maybe the fun would stop.

And he really, really didn't want it to stop.

He wanted Enzo to keep himself plastered up against him, one hand on his arm, another creeping up his thigh. Wanted to keep gazing into those amused dark chocolate eyes.

"It's okay, we're still getting good at this," Enzo said, squeezing his bicep reassuringly. "We'll get better."

"You're so patient you're practically a saint," Will told him wryly.

"Oh, Stud Muffin, not a saint when it matters."

Will didn't think he'd ever get tired of Enzo laying it on thick. Especially with these outrageous comments were accompanied by an intense fluttering of his eyelashes.

"I'm looking forward to discovering just what a devil you can be," Will murmured, his tone unexpectedly serious. Unexpectedly real . He couldn't help wishing, not for the first time, that his desire might actually come true.

Enzo leaned in. He was only a breath away from Will's face; it would be so easy to kiss him. For real .

Will wanted to. Wanted to kiss all that sweet bullshit right off his lips.

But he didn't. Because he'd already told himself this was the line he was drawing. He couldn't kiss Enzo in public and then keep his distance in private. His heart wouldn't take that kind of misdirection.

"Now this is actually convincing."

Will glanced up and Rocco was standing in front of their booth again, a basket of cheese straws in his hands.

"I hardly believed you before," Rocco continued, "but this now , looks damn good. Like you're about to start making out, damn the gossips."

"I . . .uh . . ." Will stammered as Rocco set the cheese straws onto the table. Afraid that Rocco was a little more right than he wanted to admit.

"It's okay. It's hot. I love it." Rocco winked at them. "Enjoy these. I'll be out in a few with your food."

Ironically, after Rocco was actually convinced was when Enzo shot back half an inch. He took a long sip of wine, and Will decided that might not be a bad idea for him, too. And was pleasantly surprised by the rich taste coating his tongue.

"This is really good," Will said, gesturing with his glass.

"Luca's a genius with wine. Could've probably been a sommelier but where'd he find the time?" Enzo shrugged. "That's what he should've done instead of playacting at starting a gelateria."

"What?" Will couldn't believe what Enzo had just offhandedly claimed. Will was in the ice cream business so he understood exactly what Enzo had revealed. In the United States, they had ice cream parlors. In Italy, they had gelato and gelaterias.

"You didn't know?" Enzo took a closer look at his face. "Oh man, you didn't know."

"How serious were they?" Will didn't want to apologize for opening Cherry's, but he respected and admired Luca and Oliver enough that the last thing he'd have wanted was to step on their toes.

"It wasn't that serious. They talked about it a lot." Enzo waved a hand. "But honestly, they're much happier that you opened Cherry's, instead. At least Oliver is. He'd never see his husband if Luca did everything he wanted to."

"Oh. Well." Will squirmed uncomfortably on the bench seat until Enzo's hand clamped down on his thigh. And that was both distracting and arousing enough he stopped wiggling.

"I promise you, it's fine. Everyone's happier that you did it, instead."

"If you say so," Will said. Wanting to believe Enzo was right. Worried he was not. He'd need to talk to Luca himself. Make sure they were indeed as good as he'd believed they were.

"Trust me," Enzo said, "if they weren't happy about Cherry's, you'd have heard about it. Luca wouldn't have made friends with you, even if Oliver broke ranks and did it anyway. And you know my mother never would've stopped squawking about it."

That was true about Giana. She was hardly subtle and absolutely incapable of keeping a secret.

"Eat a cheese straw and stop angsting about it," Enzo encouraged. "I want to see you put it in your mouth real slow. Torment me a little. Make me wish we weren't in the middle of this busy restaurant."

Will laughed, because what else was he supposed to do? It was impossible to be faced with such an incorrigible request and not be amused by it.

"Worried about my gag reflex?" Will joked.

"Not in the least," Enzo said with relish. "Especially not after you stick that whole pastry into your mouth."