Page 60 of Forbidden Vows

“No. Dame’s taking her on an overnight tour of Rome. Well, the shops of Rome. I told her I was surprising you, and she said to try to relax for once in your life and enjoy yourself.”

“Oh, did she? And did my AWOL bestie have anything else to say?”

“She said, tell Cleo, ‘Don’t be your usual anxiety-riddled self.’”

She loves the café's bread, so I order a loaf daily. I place a slice on her small bread plate. “Thank you. I love thisbread.” She butters her slice and sets the knife on the edge of the plate. She briefly considers her wisdom, then rejects it with a sniff. “We can’t all be free-spirited travelers. Sometimes, you must feel anxious, out of respect for the mayhem around you.”

Her words struck me square in the chest. I know exactly what she means. When I’m in the city, I need to clench my jaw and square my shoulders when the sun goes down. “Yeah. I get that.”

Stand straighter. Head higher. Voice clipped.

Be the dangerous man who can hold his own and kick ass if necessary.

Bachmans don’t do truces.

I cut a bite of the chop, swiping through the potatoes and gravy before popping it in my mouth and chewing. Holy Moses, as Falcon would sometimes say. “This is delicious!”

“I cooked most nights, but when my dad was home, this was my favorite meal he made.”

“I remember him making it once.” I give her a wink. “But you make it better.”

“Don’t be silly,” she says, eyeing me curiously as I take my next bite. I hope she can read the compliments written on my face as I devour another delicious bite.

Afterwards, we wash the dishes together. It's a simple enough task, but doing it beside someone you enjoy spending time with makes it pleasurable. When we’ve put away the final dish, she bumps hips with me, glancing up with a side-eye. “When are you going to tell me?”

“What do you mean?” I playfully snap her juicy bottom with the end of a dry kitchen towel.

She waves me away. “You’ve sent my best friend away, luring her with her dream man and unlimited leather goods shopping.” Her gaze narrows. “You’re up to something, Mr. Bachman. Spill it.”

I love to tease her. And I’m too excited to hold back. I give her a hint. “I thought you might like to see what being a rich kid from Queens feels like.”

“Okay.” She leans against the counter, smiling up at me.

“Just us,” I add.

“O…kay…”

“I have a few things to prep tonight, but we leave tomorrow after breakfast. It's just a day trip.” I couldn’t pull off more with work. “But I think you’ll like it.”

“Just the two of us. That sounds nice.” She grabs the towel from me, hanging it neatly the way girls do. “What do I need to do to get ready?”

“Nothing. Nothing at all.” I grab her hand. “Come with me.”

I lead her to our favorite spot, the rundown building in the garden with our paint samples. The doors are open, with a tray of tea, milk, sugar, her favorite treats, and books. I know she likes to read, but my focus on punishing my naughty girl left no time to borrow good ones from Emilia’s library.

I only had a few useless self-help books, which I nowdisplay for her enjoyment. It’s the thought that counts, right?

I sit her down at the table. “You stay right here and relax. I’ve got some dessert and some reads; you chill. I’ll take care of everything.”

“You are too much. Let me help you. What can I do?”

And I have men posted, watching her while I’m inside. “No way. I’ve got it.”

“You spoil me! Chocolates and brownies?” She holds up one of the books for me to read the title.What to Expect When You’re Expecting.“Is there something you want to tell me?”

“Maybe it’s a sign you should have my babies. It’s from the Bargain Bag at the Salvation Army from home. Twelve random books for a dollar, and the paper bag to carry home is free.” I add,

An hour later, I finish working in her room and go outside to retrieve her, kissing the chocolate from her lips. We head upstairs to prepare for bed in our separate rooms. I sit on the edge of mine, waiting for her to join me. Finally, she appears at my door in my oversized white T-shirt.

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