Page 213 of SINS & Riley
75
RILEY
“Well?” Dante asks.
When he said he wanted to take me on a date, I wasn’t sure what to expect.
He calls it a date. I call it a group hang. After too much alone time, I’m done with solitude. The more the merrier—and right now, merry looks like popcorn, M&Ms, and half the family parked in the back row.
His family does lavish Italian retreats and yachts in Monte Carlo. But this—I stare up at the vintage marquee—is heaven.
“It’s an old-fashioned movie theater. Recently renovated.” Dante’s grin is almost boyish in the dim light, and I can only imagine how much he poured into it. He kisses my hand. “I know it’s totally out of left field?—”
“I absolutely love it.” Mostly because this is him. Trying to inject a little normal into our lives. And God, I crave normal.
He guides me inside, and of course we’re late. We’re always late these days.
Mostly because baby girl thinks my bladder is her personal trampoline.
I’m big as the moon—three days from my due date and one baby kick away from toppling forward like a pregnant bowling pin.
We take our seats, which I’ll need a forklift to get up from again, as Boris hands us the essentials: one massive bucket of popcorn and every candy known to man.
I dump the M&Ms into the popcorn, give it a shake, and shove it between us.
Dante stares. “What are you doing?”
“Just, trust me.”
“Another trust exercise? Really?” He steals a handful anyway, chewing like the head chef on a cooking show. With approval, he nods. “It’s… edible.”
“Edible?”
“Mm-hmm.” Another monster handful disappears into his mouth. And just like that, it hits me—we should’ve gotten separate buckets. Because my man is going to inhale this one in six minutes flat.
And right this second, I don’t give a damn. I love us. Two messed-up people doing goofy, normal things. How that’s even possible after everything we survived? I’ll never know. But I’ll take it.
Everything Dante D’Angelo is, everything he gives—I’ll take it.
Especially our little girl. And yeah, as much as I want her out, I’m praying she doesn’t make her little debut tonight.
Enzo and Kennedy take up the back row, their girls tucked in close and their brand-new son—Mullvain—in Kennedy’s arms. Dark hair, tiny fists, lungs that own the freaking room. Perfect. Breathtaking. And—miracle of miracles for Enzo’s kid—no horns or tail.
Mullvain and our little girl will be the same age. Kennedy swears they’ll be inseparable.
Misha and Katya ricochet up and down the aisle, eyes wide. For their first movie theater, Dante went all in—from the neon glow to the sticky floors. Boris even offered to play ticket guy just to rip stubs.
By their faces, you’d think we’d taken them to Disney World.
“How many movies are we watching?” I whisper, nerves buzzing. My body feels like Cinderella’s pumpkin. Ready to pop at the stroke of midnight.
“As many as they want.” Dante tips his chair back, looking just as close to a nap as I am.
And then his mouth curves. That half-smile. The one that always means trouble.
“What?” I narrow my eyes.
“I have a surprise for you. But I can’t give it to you.” His grin deepens, wicked and boyish all at once. “I can only show it to you.”
