Page 131 of Mila: The Godfather

“Nothing. It’s just that…” I adjust my hat, one that he gave me, and stare at him looking so scary and at the same time so handsome in that rugged way, while inside a bookstore holding four pink bags filled with books and thinking to myself that the lady was right. I am lucky. So lucky to have crossed paths with someone as extraordinary as him. Because that’s the truth, isn’t it? My life was ordinary until him. “This is the best day ever,” I exclaim excitedly, and my heart warms at his attempt to bond with me over something I love. I need to remind myself to find something he enjoys so we can do it together.

He comes closer, leaving little to no room between us, and kisses the top of my head.

I love how he lingers there for a long moment. It makes the organ in my chest skip many beats.

He then steps back and smiles one of those smiles that makes time stand still before he says. “It’s not over yet.” He grabs my hand for everyone there to see as he guides me out of the store. I wonder how something as trivial as holding hands can feel so monumental. In this instant, it feels as if I’m not only his but we’re each others, and he has no trouble showing it to the world. “We have one more stop.”

* * *

This is not happening.

Not in a public space.

I should’ve known Riagan is not a man who gets embarrassed by anything, especially dirty books. “Oh, no!” I cry out, laughing as I did. God could the man make me smile. “You can’t read that in here!”

We’re at a Japanese restaurant.

After we left the bookstore, he took me thrift shopping, which I didn’t realize could be so much fun. I found a lot of vintage items and even some crystals to add to my collection. I even got some for my sisters to give to them once I see them again.

It warms my heart that Riagan finds small ways to connect with me and that he remembers my love for old and used things. It’s clear that he put a lot of thought into this date night. From the bookstore to the thrift store to now.

He brought me to a Japanese restaurant called Hana Sushi Bar, where the atmosphere feels calm and relaxing.

It has comfortable tatami mats and soft lighting.

The concept of the restaurant could be categorized as minimalist, which provides an intimate experience.

“Why not?” he asked seriously. “This shit looks interesting. I’ve been thinking of expanding my knowledge on the woman’s mind.” He leans back in the booth opposite me. When the waiter came to take our order Riagan asked for whiskey and I asked for a fruity drink with no alcohol.

Now we’re sitting, waiting for our food to arrive.

At times, I’m a creature of habit. I’ve noticed my husband has no routine. He is the type of man that goes with the flow and where the current takes him.

So tonight, I have decided to act a little bit more like him and get out of my comfort zone.

I ordered Onigiri— commonly known in Western culture as rice balls, instead of my usual California rolls. I asked for the teriyaki chicken filling, not sure about the taste of seasoned seaweed.

While Riagan ordered Tonkatsu, which is pork cutlets served drizzled in fruit-and-vegetable-based tonkatsu sauce with shredded cabbage and other crisp salad greens on the side.

Noticing I zoned out, while Riagan was speaking, I focus on him while he holds one of the books he got for me, knowing some people in here might be offended by the salacious image the author chose for the cover because he chose the most naughty-looking one. The front image is of a half-naked man wearing black frame glasses while a young girl in a revealing schoolgirl outfit is holding onto his pants as if she’s begging him for something.

You can imagine what.

Looking behind me, I notice a family with two small children looking at us as if we’ve offended them. Giving them my back, I turn to Riagan. “You’re crazy!” I hiss, but there is still a smile on my face. “That- that’s.” I pause, then continue. “People will think you’re reading porn.”

He turns the book over in his hand, then hefts it once. “You’re admitting you read porn.” he says, raising his eyebrows at me with mirth filling his eyes.

I had to pause at that one.

Heat creeps up my spine. “Ah…” I avert my eyes, staring at the romantic comedy section of the bookstore. “Spicy romance, yes. But that one you’re holding, it’s just weird.” I laugh when he wiggles his eyebrows. “Why did you buy it?”

“The premise was very…” he pauses, taking a sip of his drink. “Captivating.”

Captivating?

Reaching forward, I snatch the book from his hand. Turning it over, I quietly read the synopsis.

“The Bloodsucker’s Baby.” I look up at him. “A story about a thousand-year-old vampire and his mortal baby’s mother is captivating?” I ask, stifling a laugh. I hand him back the book.

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