For the next few hours Kace and I hand out endless cookies, and it’s a complete blast. When the event is over, Jerry and Jenny leave the staff to clean up with a generous bonus for doing so that has them grinning from ear-to-ear, and we head next door to a cozy restaurant. It’s not long before we’re sitting at a high table across from them, with dim lights, orange cushioned seats, and a fun mix of the eighties, nineties, and two-thousands music. Soon we have wine and fried mozzarella, all of us enjoying tonight’s stories involving the kids enjoying their cookies tonight.
We order food, and I behave quite nicely, showing restraint by ignoring all forms of pasta which is rough considering they have mac n’ cheese. I choose a salad, while Kace orders a chicken sandwich that makes me feel a little better about my choice. The comfortable chatter continues and I decide Jerry and Jenny love this man like a son. And he loves them. And I kind of love them all right now. We eat and I’m into another glass of wine that I shouldn’t drink because I’m feeling tipsy when the inevitable happens. “Aria,” Jerry says. “Tell us about yourself.”
The dreaded question that breeds lies I don’t want to tell.
Kace’s hand catches mine under the table, his touch remarkably steadying even with wine on the brain. “My brother and I own a collectibles business,” I say. “That’s how I met Kace. I was trying to buy a violin for a client.”
“She saved my ass,” Kace says. “It was a knock-off. She told me not to bid. And it turned out she was right.”
“Are you a fan of Kace’s, Aria?” Jenny asks.
“I’m a huge fan of the man now, of course,” I say, “but when I met him I was a fan of his music. Skill doesn’t mean the man is likable. In fact, sometimes it means he’s unbearable.”
“She speaks the truth,” Jerry agrees, speaking to Jenny and then to me, “You speak the truth, Aria. We told him we’d beat his ass if he became a pompous arrogant ass.”
“You told him that,” Jenny says. “I promised to protect him.”
“I protect him,” Jerry assures us all. “From everyone but me.”
Kace laughs and sips his wine. “See what I put up with.”
“Seems pretty perfect, Kace, especially considering—you know, I ah—” I grab my wine before I start talking about his parents. “You shouldn’t have given me this,” I add, indicating the glass.
“Interesting,” Jenny says, eyeing me. “You know about his parents.”
“I do,” I say, and I glance up at Kace. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry, baby. They know you wouldn’t be here if you weren’t important to me.”
I’m stunned that he says this in front of them, but before I can really recover, Jenny asks, “Where are your parents, Aria?”
I’m so worried about Kace, that the question takes me off guard. My lashes lower with the emotional hit, no doubt, punching harder as I see this little family together while drinking wine on top of it. Kace wraps his arm around me and comes to the rescue. “Her mother was killed in a mugging.”
I open my eyes. “Ten years ago. My father disappeared when I was eleven.”
“She was in Italy,” Kace adds. “She moved here shortly after with her American mother.”
Jenny reaches over the table and squeezes my hand. “Sounds like you need to inherit a pair of godparents to me.”
Tears threaten but somehow I manage to joke. “Do I get cookies?”
Jerry laughs. “Yes, you get cookies.”
At this point, the dance floor is packed and Kace stands up and rounds the table to offer me his hand. “Let’s go dance.”
My eyes go wide. “You dance?”
“Don’t look so shocked. Music is my life.”
“We shall see,” I tease, thankful for the escape, he’s offered me. I place my hand in his, the tingling up my arm shockingly profound, his eyes laden with nothing but me.
He folds our elbows, pulling our bodies tight together as we walk through the crowd and to the other side of the dance floor. The music shifts and the song “Can I Be Him” by James Arthur begins to play. Kace folds me into his arms, leans in, his breath warm on my neck as he sings the first two lines to me.
You walked into the room and now my heart has been stolen
You took me back in time to when I was unbroken
He pulls back, his eyes meeting mine and I can barely breathe for what I find in those baby blues. He means these words. He nuzzles my neck and we sway to the music. And when the song is over, he leads me toward a back room. We cross under a doorway and I have no idea where we are but he turns me and presses me against the wall, out of sight of the dining area. “I don’t want you to go back to your apartment. Ever. Move in with me.”