“We ate early, kind of a lunch/dinner combo, so I’m… You got food for us?”

“In a way.” Thorne rose from the table. “Just wait here, okay?”

Riley eyed him curiously, but he stayed put.

Thorne’s heart pounded as he took the messy pan of tiramisu he’d made from the fridge. He cut two pieces and put them on plates, then poured coffee and put everything they needed on a tray. His hands shook as he carried it to the coffee table. Dishes rattled, giving Riley a clue how nervous he was. When he set the tray down, he said, “I wanted to make something for you.”

“Y-you made this?”

“I tried to follow my grandmother’s recipe—she made tiramisu every Christmas—but it didn’t work, so I had to use something simpler.” Heat filled Thorne’s cheeks. This was not going well. “Whenever you cooked for me, I liked how it made me feel cared for, and I wanted to do that for you because…” Thorne drew in a deep breath. “I love you.”

“Oh, Thorne.” Riley stood and pulled Thorne into his arms, burying his face into Thorne’s shoulder. “I love you too.”

Thorne sank to his knees in front of Riley, wrapped his arms around him, and laid his head against his stomach. “I love you so much it hurts. I thought I’d never make it without you.”

Riley slid his hands into Thorne’s hair and tilted his head up. “I never stopped caring for you. I was just hurt and angry. I understand now. You thought—”

“I was an arrogant ass.”

Riley smiled. “Of course you were, but that’s just who you are.”

Thorne laughed, and Riley tugged on him. “Get up here.” He stood, and Riley kissed him, just a soft touch of lips. “I can’t get carried away yet. I need to taste this tiramisu.”

They both sat, and Thorne took a sip of coffee, needing something to do with his hands. “If it’s awful, I have backup from Cafe Molto Bella.”

“I don’t want backup. I want the one you made,” Riley insisted.

Thorne watched Riley take a bite, sliding his mouth along the fork, eyes closed. “Perfect.”

Thorne snorted. “It is not. I used…” He leaned in close, hand against his mouth and spoke in a dramatic whisper. “Instant pudding.”

Riley rolled his eyes. “Custard is very challenging. And I don’t care what you used; you made this for me. That’s special.”

Thorne tasted it then. “Hmm, it’s not too bad after all. Not like Grandma’s, but better than I expected.”

“Do you remember the black forest cake?” Riley’s voice had changed to the low, sexy purr that drove Thorne mad.

“Yes,” Thorne said, heart pounding.

“I think this tiramisu would taste even better eaten the same way.”

“You do realize tiramisu always makes me think of Christmas at Grandma’s, right?”