That brought us to now.
I lifted my head and looked down at him. I felt my insides warm at the contentment in his expression, and asked, “Do I have to turn Catholic?”
His face blanked, his hand at my ass stilled, and he did a slow blink.
Then he demanded, “Say that again.”
I didn’t say it again.
Instead, I explained, “You’re Catholic. I’m not. And you’re Italian. And seeing as the Pope lives in a sovereign city-state in your homeland, I’m thinking that’s important. And since we’re committed and you’ve promised we won’t be about meatloaf and missionary, I’ve gotta have some detail about what else the future has in store for me.”
His hand not at my ass lifted to cup my jaw before he said quietly, “That’s not something you tick off a to-do list, honey.”
“No. But it is something you consider and look into if it’s important to the man you love.”
Ren closed his eyes.
A second later, I found myself on my back with Ren looming over me, but he did this with his chest pressed mostly on mine and his hand still cupping my jaw.
His eyes moved over my face and his face had the look.
My insides got warmer.
Then he stated, “It’s not necessary you convert, Ally. But it’s important to me that my kids are raised in the faith.”
“Wouldn’t it be important, to raise kids in the faith, that I knew about said faith at the very least, but better, practiced it?” I asked, and the look intensified so my insides got melty.
“You’d do that?” he whispered.
“I don’t know. Is here an initiation ceremony where I have to drink blood of the calf or something?” I asked and he grinned.
Then he answered, “No.”
“Okay,” I replied. “Then maybe you can set it up so I can talk to somebody.”
He dropped his head so his forehead touched mine, all the while muttering, “Fuckin’ fuck me.”
That meant a lot to him.
I loved that. I loved that I gave that to him.
But I didn’t tell him that.
I shared, “I’m obviously no expert, but my guess is the Pope frowns on the f-bomb, Zano.”
I saw his eyes smile.
Then I didn’t see anything because he was kissing me, slow and sweet.
Then he did other things to me slow and sweet that I wasn’t sure the Vatican approved of.
Much later, drowsy, sated, happy, my man’s arms around me, his body curled into me spooning, I decided we’d had a good day without anything exploding and another day without us fighting (so far, a record). Further, his breath was evening, which meant he was heading toward sleep.
So I’d tell him tomorrow about my plans for the future that didn’t have to do with me discussing conversion with a priest.
Chapter Fifteen
I’m Good at What I Do
Ren moved to the sink, dropped his plate in it and moved to me sitting on the counter.
He pulled my coffee mug out of my hand and set it on the counter. Then he pulled my legs apart and moved between them. With a hand at my ass, he yanked me close.
His face dipped to mine and his voice was sweet when he noted, “You got lots of bags upstairs, baby.”
“Yep,” I agreed.
“You got a dress for me?” he asked.
“Yep,” I repeated, and this was true. Roxie, Tod and Stevie bought me four of them and they were all smokin’ hot.
“Good. Date night tonight.”
I grinned.
Ren kissed me.
Then he kissed my neck.
After that, he let me go and on a, “Later, honey,” and walked to and through the front door.
I watched.
Smiling.
* * * * *
It was mid-morning when the bell over the door rang.
I was in Fortnum’s with Indy, Jet, Tex and Jane. Stella and Mace were also there, both of them at the counter. Stella was shooting the shit and sipping a latte. Mace was being silent and badass as he held his woman in a casual-but-affectionate embrace at his side.
Duke had not showed. I told myself this wasn’t because he was avoiding me, but because he’d hopped on his Harley with his wife Dolores for an impromptu ride of the Rockies.
However, even as I told myself this, I wasn’t very convincing.
Everyone looked to the door to see Tod walking in carrying two big thick scrapbooks.
One was stuffed full with copious pieces of paper and fabric swatches protruding from the sides. The other one looked new.
