Page 36 of Hidden Rocco
They were alone. He searched the lower lobby, then locked the door to ensure they wouldn't be bothered again. Fifteen minutes later, he returned to the dining room where Mica’s palm was on her chest, her keys in her other hand. “My heart went to my throat.”
If he was free, it would be nice to spend his days with her.
The thought hit him hard as he asked, “What did you think?”
She lowered her hand, showed him the app of the baby monitor where Jacob slept soundly, and shook her head. “I thought… I thought it was some assassin out to kill my son. I was ready to grab him and bolt.”
That was something she’d said before. She’d lived in fears for months.
He’d said he’d help, but now… well if the report of the police was off then he’d have time to protect her.
To be useful again? He thrived on purpose. “I promised I’d be here for you.”
She ran into his arms and hugged him as she said, “I trust you, Rocco.”
Her perfume made him sniff the air for more of her floral scent.
She was prettier than a rose itself.
However the slow song ended and a different, faster song came on.
She tossed her shiny brown hair. “Turn that off. I don’t want to dance anymore. Let’s eat.”
Dinner. Right. It was why they were here, on the date. He turned off the radio and silence was louder than blaring music ever could. Rocco ducked into the kitchen and filled bowls from the pot of savory stew. He returned and put the bowls down, then helped her into her seat and pushed her to the table. The brush of her hand against his woke him up. “Yeah, let’s eat. I don’t cook fancy, but I hope you enjoy this.”
She waited for him to sit and then took a bite of her stew. She made a "mmhmm" sound and then put her spoon down. His nerves were now standing on edge. Did she hate his cooking?
“What are the green vegetables?”
Most people just used carrots, potatoes and beef. He’d been inspired by all of her fresh produce. “Spinach, green onions, parsley, cilantro, and chives.”
She picked up her spoon again, winked at him, and laughed. “I guess I just had plain meat and potatoes before.”
He stared at her as she took her second bite. She took her time chewing so he asked, “You don’t like it?”
She swallowed and shook her head. “The opposite. It’s delicious and unusually good. I’m usually more of a salad girl.”
Salads never satisfied him, but he picked up his silverware. “Well, then I’m happy.”
Both of them ate in silence though Mica made the room alive just from being beside him.
If he could stay here, and not worry about jail, he wasn’t sure he’d make her happy, but it would be fun to try.
When she finished, she put her spoon down and folded her hands in front of her. “Rocco, earlier I sent your mom information on the cancer center, did you ask her if she checked in?”
Twenty minutes before he’d seen Mica in the dress, his mother had called him and she’d handed him her phone out in the second floor hallway. So she knew they’d spoken again. So he nodded and said, “She had.”
She scooted closer and said, “Good. I hope she’s okay.”
If his mother went into treatment, he’d succeeded in his mission because of the beautiful angel at his side. He’d do anything for Mica if she continued to trust him like she did. “Me, too. I hope delaying won't hurt her.” She let her hands fall in her lap, her softness this evening making her gorgeous. “Can I ask you a question, Mica?”
“Anything.” She stacked their empty bowls.
The last thing his princess should do was dishes. That was for common people, like himself. Rocco took the dishes but she followed. Once he had them in the kitchen sink he turned and asked, “What is it about me that made you trust me? For all you knew I was… just as bad as my brothers.”
She tugged on yellow rubber gloves, and then picked up a sponge like she’d do the chores. He blinked in surprise as she turned the water on and started scrubbing the sponge over the bowl. “You’re not a bad person. When I stared into Ali’s beady eyes I saw he cared only about himself. When I stare into your eyes, I see… appreciation and serenity.”
Any blind man would see how wonderful she was, but he narrowed his gaze as he took the dish she’d washed, rinsed, and put it on the drying rack as he said, “I’ve never been serene.”
