Hired a Gigolo Got a Billionaire (Zoey and Christian) novel Chapter 629

Chapter 629

Gwen’s POV

I woke up to sunlight spilling through the curtains I’d forgotten to fully close.

Nick had slept in the guest room. I’d stayed in mine. It felt right to give each other space after everything that had happened

But when I walked into the kitchen, he was already there.

Standing in front of the coffee machine, staring at the buttons like they were written in another language.

“Good morning.” I said, stepping closer

He turned and gave me that slightly sheepish smile.

“Morning,” he replied. “I was going to make coffee, but this machine looks like it could launch a

spaceship

I laughed and moved beside him.

“it’s just this button,” I said, pressing it. The high-end Valentian machine hummed to life with sleek efficiency. “Double espresso in thirty seconds.”

“Of course,” Nick muttered. Thirty seconds. Because waiting three minutes would be unbearable.”

I grabbed two cups and poured the coffee when it was ready.

We stood there quietly, sipping, letting the morning settle around us

“I was thinking,” I started carefully, “maybe we could just stay here today. In the apartment. Baby steps, remember? Nothing overwhelming. Just us.”

Nick nodded, looking relieved.

That sounds good.”

The morning unfolded gently. We talked about nothing important. He told me stories about Bella when she was little. I showed him old photos of me and Christian. We laughed. Fell into comfortable silences.

Refilled our coffee when it went cold.

It was simple.

It was good.

Around noon, my stomach growled loudly enough to embarrass me.

It wasn’t surprising. After fleeing the restaurant the night before and surviving on coffee alone that morning, we were both overdue for actual food.

“Hungry?” Nick asked, grinning

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“Starving,” I admitted. “I’ll order something. Is there anything you’ve never tried but always wanted to?”

He thought for a moment.

“Lobster?” he said, almost shyly. “I’ve never had it. Always seemed… extravagant.”

I smiled and grabbed my phone.

I called a restaurant I trusted and placed the order. Lobster thermidor. Saffron risotto. Fresh oysters for a starter.

When the food arrived, I set everything up in the dining area like it was a proper restaurant. Candles. Linen napkins. The right silverware.

Nick stared at the lobster with a mix of awe and hesitation.

“I don’t even know where to start,” he admitted.

“Let me show you,” I said, picking up the seafood tools.

I showed him how to crack the shell, how to pull the meat free. He tasted the first bite carefully.

His eyes widened.

“Oh my God,” he said slowly, chewing. “This is… this is incredible.”

I laughed, genuinely happy to see him enjoying it.

“Better than the pizza we made together?” I teased.

He actually considered the question.

“Different,” he decided. “The pizza had more… heart. But this has more… sophistication.”

“Very diplomatic answer,” I said with a grin.

We ate slowly, talking about light things. No Kensington. No money. No differences.

Just us.

After we finished eating, we stayed there talking for a while longer. Nick tried the oysters too, with an initial skepticism that quickly turned into approval. We cleared the table together, putting away the empty containers.

By the time we collapsed onto the couch, it was midafternoon.

“Want to watch a movie?” I suggested.

“Sure.”

I turned on the home theater system. The massive screen lowered automatically from the ceiling. Surround sound filled the room.

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Nick looked around, impressed.

“This is basically a movie theater,” he said.

“It’s better,” I argued. “No one kicking your seat from behind.”

We picked a classic Valentian film. Nick settled beside me, his arm around my shoulders, my head resting against his chest.

Perfect.

By the time the movie ended, the sun was already starting to dip.

“Come on,” I said, standing and pulling him up by the hand. “I want to show you something.”

I led him out to the terrace, where the infinity pool reflected a sky turning shades of orange.

“Make yourself comfortable,” I said with a smile. “I’ll just grab something.”

Nick looked at the pool, then back at me.

“I didn’t bring a swimsuit,” he admitted.

“That’s a shame,” I said, biting my lower lip with a teasing smile. “I guess you’ll have to improvise.”

When I came back a few minutes later, carrying a bottle of wine and two glasses, Nick was already in the

pool.

Wearing nothing but his boxer briefs.

1 stopped for a second, just watching.

Water lapped at his waist. Droplets ran down his broad shoulders, along arms shaped by years of working in the vineyards. Wet hair clung to his forehead. The golden light of sunset made his tan skin glow.

He noticed me staring and smiled. That smile that knew exactly what it did to me.

I set the bottle and glasses down carefully at the pool’s edge.

Then, keeping my eyes locked on his, I reached for the clasp of my dress. I pulled it down slowly, letting the fabric slide along my body until it pooled at my feet.

I was left in black lace bra and panties.

His eyes darkened immediately. His breathing grew heavier.

I stepped into the water without rushing, feeling the weight of his gaze on every inch of exposed skin. I swam toward him, the warm water gliding over me.

When I got close enough, Nick pulled me in by the waist, pressing my wet body against his.

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“This one,” I said, pointing toward the bottle on the edge, my voice rougher now, “is my favorite Kensington for celebrations.”

His hands slid along my back, sending shivers down my spine.

“And what are we celebrating?” he murmured against my neck, his lips grazing my skin..

I smiled, wrapping my arms around his neck, my legs around his waist.

“We’re celebrating a day that wasn’t entirely bad, aren’t we?”

Nick pulled back just enough to meet my eyes, that genuine smile lighting his face.

“There’s no way anything is bad when I’m with you,” he said, his hands firm at my waist. “Terrifying? Probably. Bad? Definitely not.”

I laughed, pulling him closer, feeling every line of his body against mine.

“I promise it’ll get less scary with time,” I said, my fingers playing with the damp hair at the nape of his

neck.

He pulled me even closer, if that was possible, and kissed me. Not softly this time. Deep. Demanding. Full of promises.

The sun slipped completely below the horizon, painting Florentia in shades of orange and pink.

The city lights flickered on around us. The Duomo glowing in the distance. The bridges over the Arno coming alive.

But I barely noticed.

I was lost in him. In the warmth of his body against mine. In the taste of his lips. In the way his hands held me like he’d never let go.

And floating there in his arms, I thought:

Or maybe not.

Maybe it would only get more frightening with time.

Cute N

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