“The color of blood.”
He flinches, smirking. “You don’t give up easy, do you?”
“Would you want your baby’s mother to give up, ever?” I counter.
“No,” he admits.
“So…”
He sighs, then leans back. “I don’t remember a time when what I wanted or didn’t want mattered. All I remember is knowing that I’d have to take up the mantle one day. That’s why I want something different for Theo. I want Theo to choose. He can be anything, Ava, anything he can dream of.”
My body and my heart respond in a sizzling blaze, like they always do when he goes full Dad mode.
“Did you ever have… fleeting thoughts about what else you might be?”
“You know,” he says. “When I was very young, I went through a modeling phase.”
I laugh so loudly it’s a miracle I don’t wake Theo or scare the fish out of their enclosure. “You’re kidding.”
He smiles ruefully. “I wish I was. No, I had a little look book and everything. I got my mom to take photos of me doing various poses, all very cool… or lame, depending on how honest you want to be.”
“I’d pay to see that book.”
“Thankfully, I lost it a long time ago,” he says.
“You’re full of surprises.”
He nods. “I think I make a better mafia boss.”
“I don’t know…” I reach across the table, squeezing his hand. “I think you’d be a good model too. Especially with those eyes.”
“We’re going to have to keep a close watch on Theo,” he says, smirking. “Teach him to use these responsibly.”
I smile, pulling my hand away. We don’t talk for the next few minutes. I hope I’m not pouting or making my thoughts too obvious. But once we’re both done with our starters, I know I must’ve been wearing my emotions on my face. Rafe says, “You don’t like it when I reference the future.”
“There’s too much uncertainty for that,” I agree.
He nods, growing quiet when the waiter emerges to remove our plates. “Your main courses will be served shortly.”
“Thank you,” Rafe says warmly, which is a check in my book. I never trust someone who is rude or indifferent to waiters.
Once we’re alone again, he goes on, “I know it’s a bad habit. We agreed tonight was… tonight, nothing more. I get that. But I can’t imagine a world where I’m not involved in my son’s life.”
My heart glows, my belly tingling. I try to keep my face neutral.
“I know,” he says, sighing.
“Know what?”
“That we’re strangers as far as you’re concerned.”
“Well… it’s been a few days total, right? What else would you class us as?”
“You didn’t feel like a stranger to me, Ava,” he says, taking a small sip of champagne.
I take a sip too, just a little one. I’ve got bottled breast milk for Theo, and the champagne will be out of my system before it’s time to feed again.
We pause when the waiter returns, bringing my risotto and Rafe’s steak.
