“There’s lots I’d like to ask him,” Mom says sourly.
“Marianne,” Dad says.
Mom sighs, then looks guiltily at me. “I’m sorry, honey. Your father thinks I need to be more patient and understanding.”
“No matter what else is true,” Dad says firmly. “This is Theo’s father we’re talking about. And someone our daughter clearly cares about.”
I whip my head towards my Dad.
“What?” he says innocently.
“Have I said I care about him?”
He tilts his head, a soft smile at his lips. “It’s obvious. I’ve never seen you like you are around him. I didn’t mean to, uh, out you.”
“Out me,” I repeat.
As a woman who cares about the father of her child.
Dad laughs awkwardly.
“He’s right,” Mom says. “We can disagree about many things, but not that. You care about him, don’t you?”
I rub my hands together, feeling my cheeks heat up like I’m a high schooler again.
“It’s complicated,” I mutter.
But it won’t always be…
We fall into a somewhat comfortable silence for a time. When the heavy knock comes at the door, my belly twists as I walk towards the door. Last time, Mom and Dad were asleep. Now, Theo’s the only one not on high alert for Rafe.
Rafe stands at the door wearing dress pants and a tight-fitting button-down, his jacket slung over his arm. All his buttons are done up, right to the top, making his shirt hug him even closer.
He comes to me and sweeps me into his arms. I fall against him too easily, finding his lips, kissing him hard. But I quickly pull away to separate, pushing back and looking up at him.
“My parents are awake this time,” I tell him.
“Good. I wanted to talk to all of you.”
I swallow, touching the front of his shirt, feeling his pounding heartbeat. “Can you be patient with them?”
“Ava, they’re the ones being patient with me. Even talking to me is more than a man in my position can expect.”
I smile shakily. “Okay, let’s go then.”
I take his hand, walking into the suite. Then I think better of it and let his hand go. He grunts like it hurts him, but shows no other sign.
We walk into the living room together. Rafe immediately goes to Theo in the corner, leaning down and gently touching him. I’ll always be amazed by how tender this big man can be. He smiles, kisses our son, then sighs and turns to the rest of the room.
“I wish I had better news,” he says. “But all I can say is… lay low. It’s the same. I’m sorry.”
“You’re sorry,” Mom repeats.
I give her a look, but even I’m not sure what I’m trying to say exactly. My heart is still fluttering from the basic, beautiful act of my son’s father giving him a kiss. But I know the rage in Mom’s eyes is justified too.
“Sorry,” she mutters.
“I know it’s not enough,” Rafe replies, his jaw pulsing. Even now, even being kind, he’s the mafia king who’s not accustomed to being questioned. “We’ve been pursuing leads, chasing the person who’s behind this, but it’s going to take some more time.”
