Page 66 of Forgotten Deeds

Walking downstairs—with Iris carrying Lucky—we follow the delicious smell to the kitchen, where Darius is behind the stove.

“Who wants pancakes?” he asks.

“Me!” Iris says excitedly; Lucky startles, hopping down.

“Wash your hands, please,” I tell Iris as I pour myself a cup of coffee.

She does so, and takes a seat at the table. Darius plates a stack of pancakes with a side of bacon and strawberries, presenting it to her. “How much maple syrup?” he asks, holding up the bottle.

“A lot!” Iris exclaims.

He smiles, drizzling the amber-covered sweetness over her stack.

“Are you going to die like my dad?” Iris asks Darius. Damn if that doesn’t gut me.

“I don’t plan on it any time soon,” he answers reassuringly. “So we’ll just focus on today. And today is going to be amazing! Kat’s coming to play with you while your mama and I go to dinner.”

I almost forgot. Sunday dinner. With Darius’ “boss.” I’m nervous just thinking about it.

“Yay! I want to show her my cat! And my room!”

“She’ll be excited.” Darius smiles. “You want some pancakes, wifey?” he asks me, sipping on what looks like a protein shake.

“I actually want to try some of your protein shake.” If he’s going to be Mr. Healthy, it wouldn’t hurt me to do the same for Iris’ sake.

He grabs the blender and pours me a glass.

“Thank you.” Taking a sip, I make a face. “No thank you. I’ll take those pancakes.”

He chuckles, swapping me out.

We finish breakfast, and I tell Iris, “Sweetie, let’s get ready. I have to run to the library for about an hour this morning to finish my bibliography for my essay. You can play a game on your tablet while I’m working.”

“How about this? Iris and I will drop you off at the library, and we’ll play at the park until you’re finished,” Darius offers.

“Yes! Park!” Iris chimes in.

“An even better plan.” I stand on my tiptoes and give him a kiss.

“Again?” Iris groans, and I giggle against Darius’ lips.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Lily

Having returned home from the library, I’m now standing in my underwear with several outfits strewn across the bed. I’m not familiar with Italian Sunday dinner customs, which does nothing to help my jagged nerves.

Darius exits the bathroom, and I smile. “You look so handsome.” He’s traded his casual look for a white dress shirt, dress pants, and loafers.

“Wifey approves? I’ve been forbidden from leaving the house in gray sweatpants,” he teases.

“I approve, and yes, you have,” I inform him, crossing my arms.

He chuckles, stalking over with a naughty gleam in his eyes.

“Don’t get any ideas,” I warn him.

“Then don’t tempt me,” he retorts, his voice dropping in timbre.

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