Page 39 of Touch Of Fate
“I would like that.” I smile back.
“Like what?” Rome asks as he walks from the back.
“I’m stealing your bond,” Archer says, wiggling his eyebrows.
“No, you’re not,” Rome says, stopping beside me. “I would kill you. You enjoy life too much.” He traces the leather on my hands.
“That’s true,” Archer says.
“When are we meeting your family?” I ask.
“An hour. I asked them if we could have lunch instead. You barely ate what Archer brought earlier,” he says, staring intently into my eyes. “Where would you like to go?” Home. Shit. I want to be alone with him, and I’m grateful we can get it done early.
“What kind of food do you like?” I ask.
“Anything,” he replies.
“That narrows it down,” I tease.
“Pasta,” Archer declares. “We both like pasta.”
“Italian.” I pick up my phone, and Rome takes it before I can find a good restaurant.
“I haven’t given you my number,” he says and enters his name in my contacts. “I’m giving you Archer’s too.”
“I get to text your girlfriend.” Archer’s mouth is glued shut again. He rolls his eyes and removes the spell. I have the feeling that this happens often. “Fine, only for emergencies.”
“Just in case, I’m adding the rest of the family,” Rome says. “I will warn you: if you text or call Mom once, it’s over. She will message all the time. If it gets excessive, let me know, and I’ll talk to her.” I can’t imagine a reason I would reach out to her, at least not yet. My phone has a handful of contacts, and I usually only use it to message Lace.
“This is true,” Archer says, groaning. “Margarete messages at all hours. She travels everywhere and pays no attention to time zones.”
“What about Adeline?” I ask. Rome hands me my phone, and I stare at all the new numbers.
“She’s just as bad,” Rome says.
“Neither of them has a filter,” Archer snorts.
“They don’t have boundaries,” Rome continues, pulling out his phone. “If they cross the line, let me know, and I’ll correct them.” I think Rome doesn’t mind their pop-ins as much as he wants me to believe. I’m sure he could come up with a spell to warn him before they appear. Stopping them would be difficult because of their age and power.
“Good luck with that,” Archer mumbles, and Rome ignores him.
“Lace is going to meet us there,” Rome informs me. “She said she shouldn’t be long. Her client showed up as I finished. He is getting a small one. Lace called someone to watch the store and close a bit early. I’ll send her the name of the restaurant. Mom, too. They will eat anything. Uncle thinks of himself as a foodie. He’ll try anything. Dad goes wherever Mom wants to go.” I stare at him, my eyes wide. “Shit, sorry.”
“Rome likes to be in control,” Archer says.
“I should have asked what you wanted,” Rome sighs.
“No. It’s fine.” It’s been a long time since anyone cared to make plans. “I’m just not used to someone taking charge.” I wonder what he will be like in bed. The experience against the wall gave me a taste. I was willing to do whatever he wanted, which isn’t like me at all.
“If I cross a line, tell me,” he says softly.
“I will.” I open my phone and search for a place to eat. Even though I live here, I rarely go out. We usually pick something up or cook. It’s too stressful to be around so many people. I concentrate on my task and enjoy listening to their conversation, yet I don’t focus on the words. It might be weird to rely on a man, but I’m liking the sensation. I get sick of always being the responsible one. The motions of everyday tasks are second nature, and I rarely veer off the path. I find the address of an Italian place that I drive by frequently. I’ve wanted to eat there, but it’s been too much of a hassle. Sending it to Rome, I look up when the front door opens.
“Oh,” Sandy, our part-time employee, whispers. She looks at Archer and Rome. “Lace wasn’t exaggerating.”
“Hey.” I round the counter, sliding the bags of books to the edge. “Archer, will you take these out to the car?”
“Sure.” He lifts both huge bags, nods at Sandy, and squeezes by her.
