Max took my bags from Dimitri. They mumbled something I couldn’t hear. Then Max gestured for me to follow him, his broad shoulders brushing past me. He’d taken care of everything for me. I’d forgotten what it felt like to walk around without my head.
He strode toward a sleek black Mercedes and popped the trunk, placing the bags inside. He took the leash from my hands and put Duke in the back. Then he opened the door for me—a gesture that felt oddly familiar. Hesitation flashed across my face for a moment before I took in a deep breath and climbed into the car.
It was nice. Expensive, of course. The plush leather seat swallowed me whole and felt cool against my skin.
Once Max was behind the wheel, he started the engine.
I turned to look at Duke. He lay comfortably in the back. Then my eyes caught on the car seat securely fastened on the seat beside him, its bright pink colors popping out in the dark.
What thefuck?
I turned back around quickly and swallowed. It was a car seat. Did he have a child? Suddenly, everything felt a little more ...real. The image of him taking care of a kid didn’t quite compute.
“What is that?” I asked, worried.
He turned to look behind him. “Car seat,” he confirmed, glancing back at me. “Thought you had a thing for dads, didn’t you?”
My mind scrambled. “I ...” I stammered, cheeks flushing hot.
Why did it make me feel envious that another woman was connected to him forever? Who was this woman?
Just as I opened my mouth to ask another question, the engine roared to life, and he drove off down the street.
“Seriously?” I sputtered. Anger and confusion had taken up residence in my gut. “You couldn’t have mentioned that before?”
“Relax,” he said, amusement in his eyes. “It’s for my niece. No mini-Maxes running around just yet.”
Relief washed over me. “Oh, thank goodness.” I blew out a quiet sigh. Then I realized I’d said that out loud. “The world couldn’t handle another version of you wreaking havoc.”
“The world doesn’t have to,” he began with a smile. “Just you.”
“Me?” The thought of having his babies made my reality settle. “No.”
“No?”
“Absolutely not.”
“I am the Romano son, Rosalie. There is no debating this. If you’re on any birth control, I’d like you to stop taking it now.”
“Find another woman to have your babies. Isn’t that what you mobsters do anyway?”
“Would that be easier for you? Do you want this marriage to be nothing but a political agreement?”
“No,” I admitted reluctantly.
“Smart answer.”
My eyes rolled.
Being with Max felt strange. So much time had passed. It felt like I was with someone I knew completely, yet I knew nothing at all.
This drive mirrored the one etched into my memory—silent, the only sounds the rhythmic hum of the engine and the occasional whoosh of the wind against the windows. His arm brushed against mine as he stretched across the console, his hand finally coming to rest on my thigh.
My gaze dropped to his hand, mesmerized by the way his large fingers looked against my skin. The simple touch of Max’s skin on mine was enough to send me dizzy.
And it did. The warmth of his touch was a comfort, much as I didn’t want to admit it. I hated it. Hated that my body reacted so instinctively, so undeniably, to him. I wanted it to stop. At the very least, give me a break.
Finally, the highways led to winding roads that were bordered with towering trees, their branches forming a natural canopy overhead. The further we continued down the road, the larger and more impressive the houses grew. Bungalows gave way to sprawling two-story colonials with manicured lawns and gates.
