Asuka glanced at me, a cute little frown creasing his brow, and I shrugged. “Your guess is as good as mine, buddy.”
“Tell me about yourself, Micah,” Sarah said, earning my full attention again. “You’re a history teacher. What made you like history?”
“Oh, lots of things.” Including parts of my past I didn’t want to bring up to my boyfriend’s parents. Getting lost in history because it was better than my father’s verbal abuse wasn’t something that I should be telling them about. “It started when I watched some old movies.IphigeniaandThe 300 Spartanswere my favorite. I realized then that I was fascinated by the life of the Greeks back in the times when they believed in gods.”
“Japan has kami.” Jiro grabbed a piece of ciabatta and dipped it in the oil before shoving it into his mouth. He chewed while he appeared to think. “My favorite kami is Raijin. He is the kami of thunder and lightning. Like your Thor.”
Yukio groaned. “Oyaji, Thor is Norse, not Greek.”
“Hah. Is he?” The smirk returned to Jiro’s face, and I had a feeling he knew that already. Even though I usually got annoyed when people confused the Greek gods with Roman or Norse, I smiled this time because Jiro’s teasing reminded me of Yukio in a lot of ways. It was nice to see Yukio’s good relationship with his father.
The server returned with our meals, passing them out and finally placing my chicken parmigiana down last. She glanced around the table with a friendly smile. “Can I get you anything else?”
We all said no, and she left, but not before giving me a low-key thumbs-up that had me grinning. From the corner of my eye, I caught sight of bikers entering the restaurant, and I stiffened, even though I knew they weren’t going to hurt me. Their black leather boots were loud on the floor and a couple wore chains that rattled as they walked. Their entrance made my toes curl in my shoes as I watched them.
One of the bikers gave us a small smile and nodded, and he was close enough that I could see the patch on the front left side of his leather jacket—The Kings of Men MC.
“Come on, Pike, hurry the fuck up.” A big guy with short hair and a matching beard plonked down at a booth near us. His mean scowl raised the hair on my arms. He had the same patch on his leather jacket as the guy he’d called Pike.
ThePikebiker rolled his eyes and muttered something that sounded like “you’re a jackass, Scar” before he went to sit in the booth with a couple of other men. My attention strayed to the mural on the wall behind them for a moment because it was an interesting old-world map of Italy.
Jiro observed them carefully, and I noticed how wary he was. He’d laid his palm on the table, fingers spread and jittery, like he wanted to reach for something. His hand was very close to a knife the server had brought over with his steak.
Sarah said something to him in Japanese, and he nodded and replied. I glanced at Yukio, silently asking for an explanation, but he gave me a tight smile.
“It’s fine.” He nudged me with his shoulder and gestured at my chicken. “Eat, Hanii.”
The big biker peered at us from the corner of his eye, and he sneered, but it was brief before a King beside him placed his hand on his arm, catching his attention.
We settled in and began to eat, and as the minutes ticked by, Jiro started to relax. I couldn’t quite put my finger on what it was about Yukio’s father that alerted me, but my survival instinct told me this man was dangerous. Not to me personally, but if I did something wrong and got on his bad side, I would probably end up regretting it.
My attention slid to the tattoos on his wrists, mostly hidden by the long sleeves of his dress shirt. The inked design was primarily black, but had some color in it, though I couldn’t see the full tattoo because of the material blocking it.
“Do you like Italian food?” I asked, gathering my courage to start a conversation.
My words made Jiro straighten and focus on me. He nodded in a short, direct movement. “Yes. I admit I do not have much of it at home in California, and it’s a good treat to have on vacation. We usually eat healthfully.”
I wrung my hands together in my lap. “I’ve never been to Cali before. Or Japan. I haven’t left the country.”
“You should change that.” Sarah’s smile shifted and became much warmer. “Yukio goes to Japan at least once a year. He even took a year after high school to live there and get better acquainted with his family. You two should go for a vacation, and you could meet Yukio’s ojiichan.”
“Grandpa,” Yukio said immediately, though I’d gathered the word referred to a grandparent. “He lives in Nagoya. There’s a lot of history there, you’d like it.”
“You’d want to take me to meet him?” I flushed when everyone’s attention turned to me. My knee jiggled and I slapped a hand on it to stop the movement.
“Hell yeah. Why wouldn’t I? He’d love you.” Yukio placed a kiss on my cheek—the second one tonight—and I groaned.
“Not in front of your parents.” I gave him a small nudge with my elbow but continued to grin.
“Micah?” The familiar voice made my spine go stiff and my entire body trembled. I turned my head to stare at my dad, who had been walking past me when he’d stopped. It’d been years since I’d seen him, and that still wasn’t a long enough time. He hadn’t changed a bit, though, with the same unshaven face and a permanent, aggravated expression that made my stomach curl in cold fear.
His gray eyes elicited a well-known feeling of ice sliding down my spine and the ability to breathe was lost to me. My lungs wouldn’t work, and I couldn’t tear my gaze away from that small scar on his upper lip. When I was eight, I’d accidentally smacked him with a school project made of wood, and he’d needed stitches. He’d never let me forget it.
“Dad.” The word was barely a whisper and I involuntarily leaned closer to Yukio, who curled an arm around me. His hold was tight and secure, and he made me feel like I could breathe again. “What are you doing in the city? Usually you stay away from here.”
“I came for dinner, boy. Members of the local farmland trust were meeting tonight. I’m friends with the man who owns the place. He buys local for the kitchen. You never did care to learn how the farm ran and made money.” Dad rolled his eyes and his gaze slid to Yukio. His curly hair had grayed and thinned since I’d last seen him and he had a bald spot in the middle of his head that shone under the lights overhead. “What the fuck is this?”
I swallowed around my panic and straightened. “Dad, not now, please.”
