Steam curls from the shower as I step out and wrap myself in my plush robe while toweling off my damp curls, humming to myself, but my tune falters when I step into the bedroom and see Vic, my normally unshakable, take-no-prisoners, silver-tongued Chef, pacing back and forth with a stack of papers in hand.

His brows are drawn, and his jaw is tight. He’s so lost in his thoughts that he doesn’t even hear me approach.

“Victor Grey Beard Grimes!” I call out with my hands on my hips.

His head snaps up, and his eyes flicker from the documents to me like he’s been caught red-handed.

“If you don’t stop worrying and start getting dressed, we’re gonna have a problem,” I warn, stepping closer.

Vic groans and tries to sit and relax to no avail. Rubbing the back of his neck, he confesses, “Tonight isn’t just about the restaurant, Kerry. It’s about everything. The business. Our family. You and me. The life we’re building starts now.”

I hear his unspoken fears creeping in despite all the work he’s done to get to this point. I climb onto the bed behind him, then slide my hands over his broad shoulders and knead the tension from his muscles.

“Vic,” I look into his eyes, my voice steady and sure. “Tonight will be perfect, and everyone will be so proud. It’s the beginning of everything you ever wanted.”

His shoulders drop, and his body gives in to my touch, but before I can finish another slow stroke down his back, his hand shoots up, grabbing my wrist mid-massage. I barely have time to react before he pulls me forward, guiding me onto his lap, his hands anchoring me in place as his eyes hold mine.

His face is pure sincerity—raw, open, vulnerable. “This is everything I want, Kerry.” His voice is deep and unshaken. “The beauty you are. The joy you bring. The love that’s been reawakened in me.” He tightens his grip around my waist, like letting go isn’t an option. “I want tonight to be the beginning of our lives together.”

His lips crash into mine. Our kiss is deep and urgent as his tongue sweeps into my mouth, tasting and claiming me. A slow, desperate hunger builds between us, and I sigh against him, my hands sliding into his waves, tugging and needing more.

“Promise me this is only the beginning,” Vic says, his forehead pressed to mine.

“It is, Vic,” I whisper. “I promise.”

Vic groans against my lips, then slips one hand into my robe, trailing his fingers over my thigh before cupping my breast, his thumb brushing over my nipple, teasing me into a quiet moan. His other hand grips the small of my back, pulling me tighter against him until all I can feel is heat and hard muscle beneath me.