“It’s an Italian wine classification that denotes the highest quality. It takes into account the grape ripeness, the winemaking process, and the barrel maturation.”

“Oh. Thank you. I think.” He was comparing her to Italian wine? Was that a good thing?

“Let me put it a French way. You’re an MF.”

“That doesn’t sound very complimentary at all.” Then she suddenly got it. Tessa stared at him, her eyes becoming watery. “Do you mean MOF?” She pronounced it Moff.

“Yes, that. Even I know about the most prestigious French culinary competition of all time.” He lay back and smiled widely. “To me, you’re Julia Child.”

She laughed, but she really felt like crying. Because he’d just said the exact right thing. In the sweetest way. “Even the fabulous Julia didn’t get the Meilleur Ouvrier de France. You just put me on a scale with the finest French chefs of all time.”

He smiled slowly and broadly. “Exactly.”

She met his gaze, and there he was, looking at her with a secretive glint in those big, moony Italian eyes.

And just like that, something in her heart broke open. Leo was kind and funny. He got her more than any other person she’d ever met. He was invested in her success. And he wanted her to be exactly who she was. So for however long this lasted, she’d take it. With both her arms open wide.

…

Much later, they were about to fall asleep when she asked, “So how bad are those allergy shots?”

“Horrible,” he said without hesitation. “I mean, I’m probably going to need years of you making this up to me.”

She rolled on top of him, her hair falling on his chest. “I’d better start right now.”

He looked up at the woman in his arms, who was beautiful inside and out, and smiled. “Well, if this is the payback for not telling you about my cat allergy, I’ll take the shots for the rest of my life.” As he rolled them over on the bed, she let out a little squeal. And then he kissed her again.

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Nineteen

On a sunny, golden late afternoon a few weeks later, Tessa set out walking down their street in her best heels, which she absolutely wasn’t used to walking in. Especially along a sidewalk made even more crooked by tree roots that pushed up against the concrete like too-tight shoes. But she chalked that up to the charm of their old neighborhood. Lilac opened her front door as she passed and waved, wishing her good luck. Because tonight, Leo was making dinner not just for family but for a restaurant full of people.

It was showtime. All their planning and hard work were coming to a grand finale.

Lilac ran down her little gravel driveway to meet her. “Wow,” she said, looking over Tessa’s black dress and heels.