Page 70 of Hers to Control

“Everything all right?” she asks.

“Nothing to worry about right now. Let’s go eat.”

Mia

We step into the cozy warmth of the Italian restaurant. Soft lighting casts a warm glow over the tables with their red checkered tablecloths that are both cliché and perfect at the same time. The scent of garlic and tomatoes wafts through the air, reminding me I’m starving. Again.

Peanut is insatiable lately.

Eric leads me to the kitchen door, where a friendly-looking couple turns to greet us. The man, presumably the owner, extends a hand with a warm smile. “Buona sera! Welcome to ourrestaurant. I’m Mateo and this is my wife, Maria. It’s good to meet you.” He turns to Eric and they exchange a nod.

The owner is relatively young, maybe in his late thirties, but with his accent and mannerisms, he encapsulates every stereotype I’ve ever heard of an Italian restaurant owner who is associated with the mafia.

I return the smile, weirdly enough feeling instantly at ease in the couple’s presence. “Nice to meet you both. I’m Mia.”

“Mia is my fiancée,” Eric adds.

Both of them give me surprised looks. Maria is the first to catch herself and transforms her expression into a wide smile. “Well, isn’t that something? Welcome to the family then, Mia.”

The family.La familia.

“Uhm, actually, we’re not engaged.” I shoot Eric a look that I hope makes his balls shrivel up in fear.

“I told you, you’re mine, Mia.” He says it as if that would be the end of the conversation.

Mateo, obviously sensing trouble, ushers us out of the kitchen and to a table near the back. “Here, sit down. Have some food. You can talk about it.”

He gives Eric a curious look before heading back to the kitchen. It’s obvious that the two of them have known each other for years.

We settle into our seats and I’m painfully aware of the fact that I haven’t bolted out of the restaurant. It should probably make me ask myself what I’m thinking, but I excuse my staying with the fact that I’m positively drooling because of the scent of garlic and tomatoes that fills the air. It’s making my stomach growl in anticipation. Peanut really is insatiable lately, a constant reminder of the life growing inside me.

My baby.

Eric’s baby.

“Pizza or pasta,” Eric asks, ignoring the bombshell he just dropped in the kitchen.

Given my current appetite, I give in and take a quick peek at the menu. And, hell yes, they have a Sicilian-Style Spaghetti Alla Carrettiera. I point at it and Eric yells our order in the direction of the kitchen instead of waiting like a civilized human being for a server to come to our table.

Maria gives us a thumbs up, so apparently they don’t care and if it gets me my food faster, I don’t care either.

As we wait for our food, Eric’s declaration still hangs in the air, causing a flutter of uncertainty in my chest. Fiancée?

My parents were married, but I don’t remember my mother since she died when I was only two, so I know little about their marriage. How different would my life have been if she’d been alive? Would she have kept my father out of trouble? Would she have left him and I would have had a proper childhood? One where I wouldn’t have ended up in foster care?

“Mia.” Eric’s voice calls my attention to him and I look up, realizing that I’ve been picking at my cuticles. It’s a habit I thought I’d gotten rid of years ago.

“What?”

“I’m not your father. In fact, he’s out of the picture now. I will be in your life either way. That baby in you? I put that there, and I will be in its life. That’s my Peanut, too. I want us to be a family. It’s what I know. Families stick together. They take care of each other, and you and Peanut will always be my priority now.”

Coming from Eric, this feels like a full-blown speech. The words are right, but something is missing. Something still doesn’t fit, and I shake my head.

“Cazzo!” Eric’s knife lands tip first in the table. I hadn’t even realized he’d been playing with it. “Mia, don’t you get it? You don’t have a choice. I will be in your life.”

Fucking hell. As if I’d let him dictate what my life will be like. Even if, for some reason, what he’s offering is tempting. An actual family. A father for my baby who wants to be there. Someone to help me protect Peanut. Someone to be around and talk about my days with. Family dinners together. Things I never had in my life. I’d always assumed those were things I would have to miss out on for the rest of my life. Something everyone else got so easily, and that seemed impossible for me to ever be a part of.

And then there is the sex…

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