Page 60 of Surprise Twins for the Mafia Prince
That’s what I tell myself. No matter how my feelings for the man have grown, I don’t want to rush things any more than we already have. The pregnancy makes things more complicated in that way. If I jump into this with both feet, if I allow myself to give him my heart, and it doesn’t work out, that might make things difficult when it comes to co-parenting.
After getting to know Dario better, I know that he’s not just in this for an heir to the Andretti empire. There’s no way he could have faked the look of wonder on his face at the ultrasound. He’s going to love our children, if he doesn’t already.
So, we both need to move forward with the best interest of the children in the forefront of our minds. As Dario continues to talk, I realize that’s exactly what he’s doing, and despite my determination not to get too far ahead of myself in this relationship, I feel my heart welling with a warm emotion that I’m not ready to name yet.
“Yeah, a house. I want the kids to have a backyard to play in. One with a swing set and treehouse and a trampoline...”
“Those are dangerous,” I cut in, but I’m smiling.
“Fine, no trampoline. But we’re getting a pool. That won’t be dangerous because I’ll make sure there’s a locked gate on the thing until they learn to swim. But we’ll teach them when they’re young. And the backyard will be good for the dog too.” He looks vulnerable and hopeful and my heart squeezes at the sight.
I laugh. “So, we have a dog in this fantasy of yours?”
“Of course. Kids have to grow up with a dog. It’s part of having a great childhood.”
“If you say so,” I laugh.
“I’ll make sure the house is big enough for the kids to grow. They’ll each have their own bedroom and a separate playroom. And we’ll have some extra bedrooms too. Just in case.”
Just in case.
Is he talking about having more children? Together?
The idea of him doing that with anyone else makes me feel like my stomach is twisting in knots, but I can’t agree to something like that right now. Wasn’t I just thinking that we need to take things slow?
But I can’t deny that it means something to me to hear him talk about a real future together. I can imagine it exactly the way he describes it. A real home.
Ever since my dad died, I’ve felt like I’m just floating through life, doing what I have to do to survive without really living. But being here with Dario has given me a stability I thought was lost to me forever. The possibility of true happiness ahead is real for the first time in so long.
I sling my arm over Dario’s torso, needing to be closer to him. I never thought I’d have this feeling of safety and contentment with anyone, and it’s still hard to believe that I’ve found it with an Andretti. But Dario is special. I don’t know how I’ll deal with my children being related to his bastard of a father, but as I drift off to sleep I realize that I trust Dario to keep our children and me safe, no matter what it takes.
I just hope that no one ever tries to test that theory.
26
DARIO
I always thoughtof romantic love as an idealized concept that people clung to in order to not feel lonely. A fairy tale, a delusion, a trap for the weak-minded.
I understood companionship and affection, the comfort of another person’s presence. I enjoyed the physical release of sex and, on rare occasions, even let a woman stay the night if I was too tired to kick her out—or if I wanted another round in the morning.
But none of that was love.
The idea that someone’s mere presence could make you happy sounded ridiculous to me. That I’d spend my time thinking about one woman, wanting to please her? Impossible. The thought of chaining myself to a single person for the rest of my life felt like a reckless decision—especially in my line of work, where everything could change in an instant.
Love required effort. Effort I had no interest in giving.
And yet, two months after a bullet nearly ended my life, I can admit how wrong I was.
Every morning, I wake up with her in my arms, and I’m grateful she’s there. I hear about a new restaurant, and instead of brushing it off, I think,Paige might like that.
This scares the shit out of me, but when I picture my future, it’s with this woman. In the few months that we’ve lived together, I’ve found a happiness that I didn’t know was missing from my life.
She’s warm and nurturing but also strong as hell. And more than anything, she makes me feelworthy.
Paige doesn’t flatter me with flowery compliments or stroke my ego. She’s too honest for that, which makes it all the more meaningful when she tells me she loves my laugh or that my sketches—something I only recently started showing her—are works of art.
More important than what she says are the things she doesn’t.
