On a Roll by Beth Bolden (best historical biographies TXT) 📕

hot to hold hands, but he didn’t give a fuck. He felt like he could do anything now that he’d won Gabriel’s heart—and Gabriel had won his own right back.

“Plan on it,” Sean said. “Besides, I wouldn’t miss this for the world.”

“It’s gonna be fun,” Gabe said, holding the door open for him. “Come on, let’s see how crazed Ren is by this point. I was supposed to be home an hour ago, and he keeps sending me texts.”

“What kind of texts?”

“Oh,” Gabriel said as he pushed the button for the elevator, “threatening ones, like he’s going to quit, that he’s going to move out, that he’s going to leave me for someone who actually cares about the business, etcetera, etcetera.”

“I didn’t think Ren was that dramatic,” Sean said.

“Ren’s a Moretti,” Gabriel said with a bright, happy grin. “Best get used to it, babe.”

They were kissing again when the elevator arrived with a ding.

It opened and Ren was standing there, glowering.

“You two,” he said flatly.

“Us two,” Gabriel said happily. “We made up.”

Ren rolled his eyes but he was smiling. “What a surprise. I’m so shocked.”

“You’re really not,” Gabriel said. Ren stepped out of the elevator. “Where are you going?”

“Away,” Ren said dramatically. “You’re pissing me off.”

“Well, I’m back now,” Gabriel said, reaching out and stopping the elevator doors from closing. “Come back, and we’ll get the last two recipes finished together.”

“Together?” Ren asked suspiciously.

Gabriel shrugged. “Three sets of hands are better than two.”

Ren stepped into the elevator, and after it dinged closed, rounded on them. “Just so we’re clear, there is to be no disgusting or sappy display of affection. No kissing, no hugging, no taking a break, AKA retreating to the bedroom for a quickie, alright?”

Sean nudged Gabriel’s shoulder with his own. “You said he was dramatic, not that he was such a drill sergeant.”

For a second, Ren stared at him. And then he started laughing, like he couldn’t quite stop. When he finally did, the elevator had reached the top floor.

“Honestly,” he said, as they walked towards their apartment, “I’ve never had something I needed to be a drill sergeant about before.”

“I gave him half the business,” Gabriel announced proudly. He patted Ren on the back as he unlocked the door. “Officially, legally, the whole nine yards. I don’t know why I didn’t do it before.”

“Probably because Luca would have blown a gasket,” Sean muttered under his breath as they walked into the gloriously air-conditioned apartment.

“You’re probably right,” Ren said with a crooked grin. “Honestly, that makes it even better.”

“It really does, doesn’t it?” Gabriel said, letting go of Sean’s hand and perusing the ingredients scattered over the counter. “Did you get the lingonberry jam?”

“Jam?” Sean asked, confused. “Did you decide to start serving scones?”

“We,” Gabe announced proudly, “are going to be serving all kinds of meatballs.”

“And all kinds of buns,” Ren inserted slyly as he joined Gabe in the kitchen, sliding a glass jar of jam across the counter to his cousin.

“But not my favorite buns,” Gabriel teased, shooting Sean a look that made it clear that when they were finally alone, he was completely committed to giving Sean everything he wanted—and more.

“Ew,” Ren complained. “I thought I said no disgusting or sappy displays of affection.”

“You said it,” Gabriel said with a lighthearted smile, “but that doesn’t mean it’s gonna happen.”

“What’s the plan for this dish?” Sean said, deciding that he might as well help, because like Gabe had said, three sets of hands were better than two. And he already knew what would happen if he ended up dragging Gabriel by his dick back to his bedroom.

Ren would make his life hell, for the near and the foreseeable future. And since he wanted to spend that foreseeable future with Gabriel, pissing off his cousin and best friend didn’t seem like the best plan.

“It’s a play on Swedish meatballs, but in a sandwich,” Gabriel said, shooting him a grateful look, clearly pleased that Sean had changed the subject. “The meatballs, plus a savory gravy, and lingonberry jam mayo, and picked cucumbers and radishes to add crunch. All piled up on a potato roll.”

Sean’s mouth watered. “Uh, that sounds awesome.”

“Thanks,” Ren said. “You really think so?”

“Uh yeah,” Sean said. “This whole concept is brilliant. Using Nonna’s meatballs to experiment with other dishes? It’s awesome.”

“It’s partially thanks to you it happened at all,” Gabriel said, shooting a particularly mushy glance Sean’s way.

“What he really wants is to beg you to put the Thai wrap on his menu,” Ren inserted.

“You showed me what was possible,” Gabriel said, and sounded apologetic. Like he shouldn’t take what had been undeniably a great idea and use it.

“I don’t own that idea,” Sean said. He’d moved into the kitchen now, and had taken the knife Ren had given him, and started slicing the cucumbers and the radishes for pickling. “We came up with it together.”

“Yeah, but if we’d kept to my ideas, we’d have some kind of weird soggy wrap,” Gabriel said, and the expression on his face—gratitude and admiration and love—made Sean weak in the knees.

Ren must have caught it too, because he growled a little. “What did I tell you two?”

“We weren’t even touching,” Gabe protested.

“Yeah, except you looked like you wanted to be,” Ren insisted, and he was not wrong.

“I’m sorry,” Sean said, even though he didn’t feel all that sorry. But he saw enough of himself in Ren that he thought he might understand a little of what he felt. “We’ll try to keep it under wraps.”

Ren sighed, and set down his flat whisk, where he’d been prepping to make the gravy. “You don’t need to apologize.” He hesitated, like he knew he needed to be the one making the apology, but wasn’t sure where to begin. “I’m really happy for you two, honestly.”

Gabriel raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

“Really.” Ren sounded certain now. “You two . . . it’s kind of beautiful, actually.”

Sean’s gaze met Gabriel’s and he couldn’t disagree, because while there was weight there, and shared history, and a