13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

Rocco woke to his alarm blaring, and for a second, he didn’t know where he was, disoriented in the dark, only the embers from a banked fire giving him enough light to see.

They were still on the couch, cuddled up together, even though it was barely large enough for one.

He and Taylor had landed back here after they’d shared a late dinner of delivery pizza, and they must have eventually fallen asleep here.

“Shit,” Taylor groaned underneath him.

“I gotta get up and get to the coffee shop,” Rocco reminded him. “Sorry, I’ll try not to—”

But Taylor put a hand on his arm. Squeezing it firmly. “Remember,” he slurred, voice soft with sleep, “I said I’d come with you. I don’t want to let you out of my sight. Not yet.”

Rocco’s heart twinged. Maybe they hadn’t said the words last night, but they’d been there, in every breath he’d taken. Surely it wouldn’t feel like this if he was in love alone. Taylor had to be right there with him.

And then there was all that incredibly romantic stuff he said—like what he’d just said, without batting an eye—that made Rocco’s heart practically melt right out of his chest.

“Alright, well, we gotta get going.”

“Okay,” Taylor said with a groan. “Let me get up, feed Meredith, and I’ll throw some clothes on.”

Rocco pulled on the jeans and sweater he’d worn last night, and a few minutes later, they were out the door, walking through the frosty cold dawn towards Jolly Java.

“I can’t believe you do this all the time,” Taylor said after Rocco had unlocked the door. But he didn’t sound judgmental or incredulous, but awed.

Rocco flipped everything on but the open sign—lights, ovens, and most importantly, the espresso machine.

He was going to need a lot of coffee to make it through this day.

“It’s not easy getting up so early, but after a few years doing it, I’m used to it now. Same way I got used to late nights when I worked for my parents. ”

Taylor yawned. “You’re a wonder and a marvel, Moretti.”

Rocco grinned at him. “That’s what all the cute boys say.”

“You gonna fix us some coffee and then show me some of your magic?” Taylor asked, and as Rocco passed by on the way to the espresso machine, now fully warmed up, he caught him around the waist and tugged him in, Rocco leaning in between his long legs.

“I thought I showed you plenty of magic last night,” Rocco teased and leaned in for what he’d imagined in his head would be a quick kiss before he was on his way. But the moment their mouths met, he didn’t want to move. He just wanted to sink into Taylor’s warmth, into the feeling of his arms wrapped around him, so secure and safe, and stay .

You should really say something .

Rocco nibbled at Taylor’s bottom lip and then swallowing his groan, pulled back.

“I . . .this is really good,” he said.

Not that.

Taylor nodded, expression serious. “Really, really good,” he agreed.

Stop talking in fucking circles.

“I . . .” Just do it . “I don’t think I’ve ever been so happy with someone. Not . . .not like this.”

Taylor nodded again. Still looking so freaking solemn. Maybe if he smiled, Rocco could find the little bit of additional courage he needed to say the three words echoing in his heart .

“I definitely wasn’t looking for this, but I found it,” Taylor said. And there it was, that smile. The one that made Rocco’s heart plain fucking sing with joy. “Found you .”

Rocco opened his mouth and before he could say, Yes, yes, yes, me too. I love you, too, a sound broke through his consciousness.

A loud sound. Like someone knocking—no, pounding— insistently on the door.

His front door.

Then they were yelling. Crowing , actually.

Rocco squeezed his eyes shut and hoped when he opened them he would not see the same glimpse he’d gotten right before closing them: a whole passel of Morettis, leaning against his front window, catcalling and pounding on the door, wanting to be let in for coffee and hugs and well . . .since they were Morettis, to hear all the hot gossip.

Namely: who Rocco had been making out with only a moment ago.

“What is that?” Taylor asked, mystified.

Rocco opened his eyes. Grimaced, even as he was happy. He hadn’t expected to see his family for Christmas—any of them, in fact—but unless his eyes were deceiving him, a lot of them were right here, in Christmas Falls.

Unexpectedly.

“Please don’t freak out, but I think . . .” Rocco took a deep breath and disentangled himself, though they’d already gotten an eyeful. “I think that’s my whole family. Surprising me. For Christmas.”

Taylor’s eyes grew big. Huge, really.

“Your whole family?”

Rocco nodded. The pounding increased. He was fairly sure that was either Gabe or Ren, maybe even Enzo, whooping, now.

“Oh—”

But Rocco needed to get this out first. “They’re a little bit loud and maybe a touch insane, but they honestly mean well. However, they’re a lot to deal with, regardless, and if you want to escape out the back door before I let them in . . .”

Taylor’s back straightened and he shot Rocco a look that meant business. Rocco liked to think of it as his “future mayor of Christmas Falls” look.

“As if I would ever be that cowardly. If I feel this way about you—” Taylor smiled knowingly, like he was acknowledging they’d just been on the cusp of confessing their feelings before they were interrupted. “Then I can meet your family. Then I want to meet your family, no matter how wild or crazy they might be.”

“And that,” Rocco said, the words falling out of his mouth without forethought or panic, “is exactly why I love you.” He leaned in and kissed Taylor’s cheek briefly, enjoying the pleased surprise on his face. “I know, but don’t say it yet, okay? We’ll talk, later, I hope.”

“Yes,” Taylor said, nodding firmly. “A lot. And more. ”

“Talking and more than talking are both good,” Rocco said, babbling a little. Was he procrastinating letting the Morettis in? Oh, a little.

The thumping grew even louder.

“I think you’d better let them in before they break down the door,” Taylor said. “I’ll stay here. And when the initial cacophony has finished, you can introduce me.”

“You’re thinking they won’t want to meet you the very first thing, and you’re wrong. You’re all they’re going to want to talk about.” A boyfriend that he hadn’t told a single Moretti about. They were all going to be salivating.

“No,” Taylor said, squeezing his hand. “They’re here for you, Rocco.”

They were. Rocco realized they’d all come. Dropped their own holiday plans to fly to Christmas Falls and see him .

His heart felt so warm, so full, he thought it might burst.

“Go on, then,” Taylor said, squeezing his hand one last time.

Rocco went. Unlocked the door with trembling hands and then opened it a fraction, bracing it against his foot.

“Good morning, who are you?” he teased.

Gabe, who was in the front, stuck his tongue out. “Some surprise this was!” he exclaimed, elbowing their cousin and his business partner, Lorenzo, who held out his hands in welcome.

“Rocco! It’s so good to see you. Also, it’s freezing . Let us in!”

There was Luca, too, and Oliver, standing in the back of the group with Enzo and his boyfriend, Will. And his parents, smiling at him like he hadn’t seen them in forever, and maybe it did feel that way, now that Rocco considered it. It had been a long six months since he’d seen them, right before he’d flown to Christmas Falls to finalize the purchase of Jolly Java. And Luca and Gabe’s mom and dad, Nicoletta and Matteo, were rubbing their hands together, clearly cold in the chilly early morning.

“Come on, come in,” Rocco said, widening the door.

And suddenly, he was caught up in a blast of cold air and a mob of excited, loving Morettis.

He lost track of how many tight hugs he was given—and gave back—and how many pairs of cold fingers were pressed to his cheeks and how many people exclaimed that he looked too skinny, that he needed some meat on his bones, did Rocco need them to bake him a lasagna? But mostly, everyone wanted to know 1) how he was doing and 2) who the really cute, tall guy behind the counter was.

“Uh, yes,” Rocco said, gazing over the crowd of Morettis surrounding him to meet Taylor’s amused gaze. “This is my boyfriend, Taylor. It’s new so—”

Someone—it might have been Nicoletta, or maybe even Giana—let out an excited screech, but before the stampede towards Taylor could begin, Luca held up a hand and bellowed in that I’m Italian and I will take no prisoners voice. “Not everyone, not at once! Let Rocco introduce him to his parents, and the rest of us can go sit down. You’ll get plenty of chance to talk to Rocco’s boyfriend.” Luca turned to Rocco. “Sorry, I told them they didn’t need to all come, and so early, too, before you even opened, but I got out-voted.”

Rocco shrugged. “Of course you did. But uh . . .thanks. And I do have some work I need to get done before we open. A few things that need baked—”

Oliver popped up next to his husband. “Did I hear my favorite word?” he asked mischievously.

Luca rolled his eyes. “You did. And it was naive of me to think we’d actually get a vacation coming here. You’ll be in Rocco’s kitchen the whole time and I’ll be wrangling almost twenty Morettis.”

“ Almost twenty ?” Rocco exclaimed.

“Everyone wanted to come and see you, darling,” his mom said, greeting him again, with a big firm kiss against his cheek. “Now, introduce me and your father to your very cute boyfriend before he runs away.”

“He’s made of stronger stuff than that,” Rocco said, even though he was a little afraid of how terrifying this might be for Taylor. Taylor who only had his dad . . .who apparently was not coming for Christmas. Or if he was, Taylor had certainly not said so.

But then, Rocco hadn’t expected his parents—or a whole van-full of his relatives—for Christmas either.

“If he’s dealing with you, yes,” Luca said dryly. “I hope you don’t mind, I think Dario and Gabe have just commandeered your espresso machine to keep this brood caffeinated. ”

Rocco just shrugged. He knew how much the Morettis loved their espresso.

“Let me know what I can help with,” Oliver said. “Do you need me to—”

“ Yes . A few batches of scones? I use your recipe, of course. And get the sweet dough mixed up for chai rolls?”

“Got it,” Oliver said. “I’m sure I’ll find everything well-organized.”

Rocco threw his arms around him, hugging his friend tightly. “Thanks. Someone taught me well. I’ll join you in a minute?”

Oliver grinned. “Maybe ten minutes.”

Rocco winced and then nodded, taking his mom’s hand and leading her over to where Taylor was still leaning up against the back counter. He didn’t look apprehensive at all, only interested.

“Mom, Dad, this is Taylor. Taylor’s the deputy mayor of Christmas Falls, and uh . . .” Rocco hesitated, but Taylor tilted his head, smiling, like he was very curious what Rocco was about to say. “And my boyfriend.”

Taylor’s smile made it clear that Rocco had said exactly what he’d hoped he might.

“It’s so lovely to meet you, and a politician! Well.” Beatrice looked thrilled. “I don’t suppose you’re Italian in the bargain.”

Taylor grinned, extending his hand to shake, but Dante pulled him in for a hard hug, instead. Taylor just went with it, hugging Bea right after. “Sadly, no. I’m sorry. ”

“That’s alright, Rocco has enough hot blood for both of you,” Bea said.

“I think he’s just perfect the way he is,” Taylor said, wrapping an arm around Rocco’s shoulders. He nudged him. “Do you need help with any of the baking? I’m not much of a cook, but I can follow directions.”

“No, no, Oliver’s already in there, probably revolutionizing the way I organize my spices. He’ll help. And after this lot is caffeinated and fed, Luca will get them out.”

“Alright. I can stay to help, if you want . . .”

“No, no,” Rocco said. Pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. Ignored the ooohing and ahhhhing from the gathered Morettis. “You do what you need to do. We’ll meet up later?”

“You sure you can?” Taylor eyed the group with a bit of trepidation.

“Yes,” Rocco said firmly. “We’ve got a lot to talk about.”

“And not talk about,” Taylor teased.

“Well, I think Oliver’s got you pretty well situated,” Luca said from across the bar as Rocco finished up a latte and a cappuccino, placing them on the counter and calling the name on the ticket.

“More than well situated. The man’s a genius. Also threw some ham and cheese hand pies in that sold out basically the minute he put the tray in the case. I’ll be adding those to the regular menu.”

“That’s my husband for you,” Luca said warmly. “But really, because you haven’t been asked enough times already this morning, how are you doing?”

“Good,” Rocco said firmly. “And surprised.”

Luca grinned. “You really weren’t expecting us to descend en masse ? It’s your first Christmas away from your family, and on top of that, we did miss you.”

“I missed you guys too.” He hadn’t even realized how much until they were all here, so bright and vibrant in their inherent Moretti-ness. Talking over each other and hugging and laughing and teasing. Sharing a new recipe. Congratulating each other on another great year in the restaurant business.

They were a force. A wild, slightly insane force, but a force nonetheless, and he loved them.

“A lot of them are very excited about the festival events, so I’m sure we’ll see you, but for the most part, we’re not going to be in your hair twenty-four seven. I promise.” Luca shot him a grin. “You’re welcome.”

“How did you manage that particular miracle?”

Oliver emerged from the kitchen doors, wiping his hands on a paper towel. “When he heard the plan to descend on you for Christmas, Luca found the festival flyer and emailed it to everyone. Told them to pick four events they couldn’t miss.” Oliver kissed his husband. “Would you believe me if I told you there’s a color-coded spreadsheet?”

“Yes,” Rocco said. Because that sounded exactly like Luca. “So what’s on the docket this afternoon?”

“I think most of us are heading to the brew and cider fest this afternoon, so if you’d like to join us, you’re free to. Or . . .” Luca waggled his eyebrows. “You can always spend time with your very attractive boyfriend instead.”

Rocco remembered, a few years ago, when Luca had been incapable of jokes. Or smiling. Or generally human behavior.

Oliver had not only done wonders for Rocco’s kitchen, but Luca’s humor.

“I think maybe I can work out a bit of both.”

“And then there’s the Santa Crawl tonight,” Oliver said with excitement. “I know my mom and Giana are wanting to come with us to that. Enzo and Will, too.”

Luca groaned a little, but he was still smiling. He’d used to herd Morettis because he felt obligated too. Now Rocco thought he did it mostly because he loved them.

“Well, have fun with that. I’ll already be tucked in bed,” Rocco said.

“And not alone either, I’d guess,” Ren said, sauntering over. “You guys staying or heading out? Seth and I wanted to get some breakfast at this Snowflake Shack.”

“Are you taking anyone?” Luca said. “Remember the group chat. I don’t want anyone getting left behind. ”

Ren gave Luca an ironic salute. “No, sir, yes, sir, we’re taking Gabe and Sean. And uh . . .oh, Nicoletta too. And Matteo.”

Luca rolled his eyes. “Don’t lose them, okay?”

“Would I ever, sir?”

Luca smacked Ren in the arm, but he hadn’t stopped grinning the whole time.

“You are a pain in my ass, Lorenzo,” Luca said.

“And you love it,” Ren retorted back teasingly.

Luca sighed. “God help me, I think I do. But you’re going to be okay here?” He directed this question to Rocco.

“Golden. I’ll text you later. Taylor and I will probably meet you at the brew and cider fest.”

“Sounds good.” Luca reached out and pulled him in, grasping him close. “It was good to see you, little cousin.”

Taylor did something from eight to two, he didn’t know what it was, but it had to be something.

When his watch finally read 1:55, he looked around and realized he’d scoured the kitchen and the bathroom until they shone, dusted and vacuumed, and done several loads of laundry which he’d actually folded and put away.

Meredith had given him several very grumpy looks, probably because for Taylor, Sundays were usually for relaxing on the couch, football on the TV, and maybe he might fit a few chores in, during halftime and between games. But in the fall and winter, Sundays were for nothing .

But this Sunday it felt like his whole life had changed.

Rocco had told him he loved him. He’d met Rocco’s parents—well, not just his parents, what felt like his whole extended family. And like Rocco had said, they were a lot. Noisy, boisterous, but so full of kindness and love, like Rocco himself, he’d found himself very much enjoying them.

“Things are going to be changing around here,” he told Meredith as he got dressed. She meowed back, clearly unamused and unmoved by this proclamation.

“Hey,” he told her, “you got used to Rocco. You even like him now. You wouldn’t sleep on him if you didn’t. I know exactly how that works.”

Meow .

“Well, you might want to make yourself scarce later, because we’re definitely going to be searing your eyeballs with all this I love you sex we’re going to be having tonight.”

Meoooooow .

“Yeah, you’re gonna have to deal with the imposition. Sorry.”

Meredith shot him a look from her blue eyes that spoke volumes. You’re not very sorry, at all.

And he wasn’t.

At all.

After scooping out Meredith some kibble as an apology, he put on his coat and scarf and took off towards Jolly Java .

On Sundays, Rocco usually closed about two or two-thirty, depending on how busy they were, and it was maybe a little bit selfish, but Taylor was happy when he pulled the door open to find that the coffee shop was quiet. Rocco was leaning against the counter, next to the register, typing on his laptop.

He looked up and Taylor was struck again by the way Rocco looked at him.

The way he’d been looking at him for awhile now.

Now he knew that look was love.

His heart clenched.

And the words, which had felt so trapped before, wanted to burst right out of him.

“Hey,” Rocco said. “I was just getting ready to—”

“I love you, too.” Taylor hadn’t been able to keep it in a minute longer. He’d had some pipe dream about waiting until they were alone, until he could try his best to make it as romantic a declaration as possible.

But maybe that didn’t matter at all, because Rocco practically ran around the edge of the counter and just jumped into Taylor’s arms. “I love you, so much,” he murmured into Taylor’s ear, and nothing had ever felt so right.

Then Rocco bit gently on his earlobe and murmured, “Rebecca offered to clean up and close today, because my family’s in town. So we can go upstairs right now, if you want. I have to take a shower, but—”

“I’m happy to get you as dirty as possible before getting you clean again,” Taylor finished.

Rocco beamed at him.

“I thought,” he confessed as they walked up to Rocco’s apartment, “that maybe they all might have scared you away. You know, with their Moretti-ness.”

“Hardly,” Taylor scoffed. “They’re a bit noisy, yes, and excitable, but they all mean well. They’re good people, your family. Not that I ever thought they could be otherwise.”

“I can’t believe they all just showed up, for Christmas,” Rocco said, unlocking the door. “I knew I missed them, but I didn’t even realize how much until they were all in my coffee shop.”

“Of course you did,” Taylor said.

Rocco shot him a look as they headed towards the bathroom. “Is that how you and your dad are?” he asked.

Taylor supposed he should have expected the question, especially with how close Rocco was with his own family.

“Sort of, I guess. I do see him. But he’s always so busy during the holidays, on all these committees, that I don’t want to push him to come out. I’ve got a family here, too. Trust me, I’m never alone on Christmas.”

“No, you won’t be,” Rocco agreed. “Come on, let’s get me all clean.”

“Dirty first,” Taylor insisted and lifted Rocco’s T-shirt off, tossing it onto the bathroom floor and then tugging his jeans down next .

It felt so right to follow them down to the floor, pressing a palm against Rocco’s bare chest, feeling his heart begin to beat faster, his cock hardening as Taylor leaned in and gave it an experimental lick.

Rocco’s hands buried in his hair, and the look of pure bliss on his face as Taylor let his dick slide between his lips was all Taylor ever wanted to see.

“God, you’re so good at that,” Rocco groaned as he took him deeper, sucking him hard.

Taylor’s own cock was a hard, pulsing line in his jeans and it was usually easy to push his own desire aside so he could make Rocco feel good, but he wanted him too badly, wanted to be so close to him he couldn’t even remember where he left off and his man began.

He wanted to be buried so deeply inside him, giving them both everything they craved until there was no way they could mess this up.

“I’m good at other things too,” Taylor murmured, sliding a spit-slick finger up, circling Rocco’s hole. “I was thinking of bending you right over here, making you sob with it, but maybe instead . . .on the edge of the counter so I can see you. When your eyes go blurry with pleasure like that . . .”

“Yes, God , that, yes, yes, yes ,” Rocco chanted. Fumbled in a drawer in the vanity and pulled out a bottle of lube. “Come on. Get in me. ”

Even as desperate as he was, Taylor wasn’t ever going to be careless. He took his time, pressing one long finger inside Rocco’s heat and then another until Rocco was babbling and swearing, trying to fuck himself on his hand.

“You’re gonna make me come,” Rocco cried out. Like that was a bad thing. And it wasn’t. Not even close. But Rocco couldn’t come, not until he was inside him. Buried all the way inside.

“Condom?” Taylor asked, voice rough as he helped Rocco up onto the counter.

“I was tested about six months ago,” Rocco said, the corner of his mouth tilting up.

“And you know, it’s been forever for me. There . . .” Taylor tipped his forehead against Rocco’s as his legs wound around his waist. “There was never anybody I wanted to take that risk for. But you? You’re another story.”

“A new page?” Rocco teased, his lips nipping at Taylor’s mouth.

“A whole new book,” Taylor said, exhaling hard as he slicked up his cock and then lined up.

Rocco gasped as he slid inside, and Taylor was pretty sure that very undignified groan echoing in his own head was from him.

“Kiss me,” Rocco groaned and Taylor did, locking them together every way he could, tongue delving into his mouth, loving the sugar-spice flavor on his tongue and the way Rocco’s body pulled him inside, the hot clench of him, but more than anything loving the man .

It was amazing and overwhelming and Taylor knew no matter how much he tried to make it last, he couldn’t.

“God, yes, move please ,” Rocco pled, and Taylor did his best, thrusting hard, his knees buckling at the waves of pleasure cresting through him.

Reaching between them, he wrapped his fingers around Rocco’s cock and tried to jerk him with the same rhythm, even though his own was highly compromised.

But that didn’t seem to matter, because a minute later, Rocco was crying out, clenching around him, and he was following him right over the edge.

Taylor had never had a lot of sex, but the sex he had had, had never felt like this before.

Like he was being emptied out and filled up, all at the same time.

But he wasn’t alone. Because Rocco’s head slumped onto his shoulder and he murmured into his skin, “We need to do that a hundred more times. A thousand. It’s never . . . never . . .”

“I know,” Taylor agreed.

“A whole new book,” Rocco mused. “That seems about right.”

And even though he was on new footing, it felt fine—better than fine, it felt fucking incredible, in fact—because they were both there together.