GIO
Nearly forty minutes later, we settled on the couch in the living area, our ordered food spread before us. Millie was clad in one of my white shirts, while I opted for gray sweatpants and a shirt. I opened the containers, serving a portion of gnocchi onto Millie’s plate. “Want a taste of my ossobuco?”
She examined the meat briefly before shaking her head. “I don’t think I can handle that.”
I offered her the plate, and she accepted it, nestling back into the couch with her legs tucked beneath her. Tentatively, she sniffed her food. While she contemplated, I started to dig into my own meal.
Millie lifted her fork, taking a small bite of her gnocchi, and then smiled. “It’s actually good.”
I finished my main course, the focaccia and tapenade, before Millie had made her way through half her plate, the box of gnocchi still holding much of its contents. Catching me watching her, she met my gaze. “You don’t have to keep an eye on me. I can eat,” she said, her smile gentle.
I retorted, “Not enough,” my hand lightly brushing against her knee. “Come on, my princess. Don’t make me resort to force-feeding.”
She sighed, her worry evident. “I’m just afraid I’ll feel sick if I eat too quickly.”
“Perhaps it’s time to let go of those worries,” I advised, pausing for a moment. “Was the doctor right? Did our argument really make you feel unwell?”
After concluding our appointment, we made our way back to our penthouse. The drive back to the Hamptons seemed like an arduous task for Millie, given her exhaustion. However, it appeared to me that she had a desire to return to our city apartment. These past few weeks had seen her spending an overwhelming amount of time at our Hamptons retreat.
As we entered the penthouse, it was evident that Millie was genuinely delighted to be back. She gracefully stepped out onto the rooftop, her eyes tracing the contours of the city skyline. I silently approached her from behind and encircled her waist with my arms, still marveling at the bump that was now a part of her silhouette. With a playful suggestion, I proposed, “How about we indulge in some sushi and unwind on the couch?”
Her response was accompanied by an amused glance. “Sushi? Are you forgetting something?” Her hand came to rest over mine, affectionate and warm.
I found myself puzzled by her words.
Amusement danced in her eyes as she chuckled softly. “Men can be quite oblivious at times. I’m not supposed to consume raw fish or meat during this phase, and it’s advisable to avoid anything uncooked, just in case the restaurant’s hygiene isn’t up to par.”
With confidence, I asserted, “If I were to instruct them to ensure proper cleanliness, they would comply, believe me.” The safety of Millie and our unborn daughter was non-negotiable, and I wouldn’t hesitate to demonstrate the severity of any mishap to those who jeopardized it.
“I know you would,” she replied, turning within my embrace to lightly touch my cheek. “My tough, formidable mobster.”
A chuckle caught in my throat. Millie was the only person who could tease me about my role. Bending down, I lowered my voice to a menacing whisper that I usually reserved for those who dared cross me. “I am indeed fearsome, and more importantly, I am the Capo.”
Her reaction wasn’t one of terror, but rather a shiver that seemed to stem from something entirely different. She drew her arms around my waist, nestling her face against my chest. “Oh, how I’ve missed this,” she confessed.
I tenderly ran my fingers through her silky hair, my touch descending along her spine until it reached the gentle curve of her hips. A shiver coursed through her again, drawing her even nearer.
“You need sustenance,” I pointed out, my voice attempting reason despite the alternative intentions my body had. She nodded, yet remained where she was. “What about pasta? Surely that can’t pose a risk to the baby.”
“Gnocchi a la Genovese for me,” she replied promptly, her decision made. “And maybe one of those delightful almond cakes. You’re thinking of ordering from Da Daniele’s?”
A smile tugged at my lips. “Without a doubt.”
~*~
After a span of forty minutes, the passage of time marked only by the subtle shift of the sun’s rays through the windows, we found ourselves settling onto the plush couch in the heart of the living area. The aroma of our chosen dishes wafted from the takeout boxes, mingling in the air. Millie, clad in one of my oversized white shirts, exuded an effortless charm as she nestled into the cushions beside me. I, on the other hand, had opted for simple comfort, draped in gray sweatpants and a loose-fitting shirt.
As the containers were unveiled, revealing the culinary delights within, I carefully dished out a generous portion of gnocchi onto Millie’s plate. A playful thought occurred to me, and I glanced at her with a grin. “Feeling adventurous? Care for a taste of my ossobuco?”
Her gaze flitted to the meaty offering and then back to me, a swift shake of her head accompanied by a rueful smile. “I don’t think I can manage that.”
Undeterred, I extended her plate toward her, and with a grateful nod, she accepted, settling more comfortably against the couch. Her bare legs were neatly tucked beneath her, exuding an air of intimacy. Tentatively, she brought the plate closer, inhaling the scent of the dish. Observing her cautious approach, I turned my attention to my own meal, allowing the flavors to engulf my senses.
Millie’s fingers gracefully grasped the fork, and with a mix of curiosity and reservation, she took a tentative bite of the gnocchi. A subtle, appreciative smile played upon her lips as she savored the flavor. “It’s actually quite good.”
By this point, I had polished off my own main course-succulent focaccia and tangy tapenade-while Millie had only made a modest dent in her plate of gnocchi. The container still harbored a substantial portion. Sensing my watchful eyes upon her, she looked up, her expression a blend of amusement and gentleness. “You don’t have to keep an eye on me. I promise, I can eat at a reasonable pace.” Her words were accompanied by a reassuring smile.
Chuckling softly, I reached over to stroke her knee affectionately. “I’m just concerned, my princess. I wouldn’t want to resort to force-feeding.”
A sigh escaped her lips, a mixture of exasperation and vulnerability. “I’m just worried that if I rush, I might end up feeling unwell.”
“Maybe it’s time to let go of those worries,” I suggested gently. Then a more probing question surfaced. “Was the doctor right? Did our argument contribute to your feeling unwell?”
Swallowing another mouthful, Millie momentarily placed her plate on her lap. Her gaze held a hint of introspection as she spoke. “I’m not entirely sure. It’s possible. You’re the most significant person in my life, Gio. The father of our baby girl. Keeping things from you for so long-it hurt, more than anything I’ve ever experienced.”
A pang of remorse swept through me, a sensation I wasn’t entirely accustomed to. “Damn,” I muttered, grappling with the unfamiliarity of it all.
“And it wasn’t just you,” Millie continued, her tone softening as she reached out to touch the spot over my heart. “It was my fault too. I should have understood how you’d react to me going to Chicago without asking you. I know the kind of man you are.”
“A possessive, controlling asshole?” I interjected, acknowledging my flaws, some of which ran even deeper.
Millie’s smile held both warmth and acceptance. “Yes,” she agreed playfully, “but also the man I love with all my heart.” Her fingertip brushed against my chest. “Mine.”
“Exclusively yours. Forever.”
With a newfound determination, Millie scooped another bite of gnocchi, savoring it with a renewed sense of appreciation. Her voice turned softer as she ventured further into the depths of vulnerability. “Did you ever have moments of doubt?”
“Doubt?”
“About us. Or other women.”
The tension in her shoulders was palpable, a clear indication of the weight behind her question.
The growl that escaped me was involuntary. “Never,” I asserted firmly. “All I could ever think about was your smile.” And that was the unembellished truth. When it came to Millie, I was irrevocably captivated.
Her eyes held mine, unwavering and inquisitive. “And you?”
Millie’s response was unexpected-a melodious laughter that resonated through the room. After another bite, she refilled her plate, her demeanor brimming with confidence. “I wouldn’t even know where to begin with flirting, Gio. You’re the only man I can truly imagine being close to. It’s as if your possessiveness flipped a switch in my mind, rendering me incapable of seeking closeness with any other man.”
A mischievous smirk curled at the corner of my lips, and in response, Millie let out an exasperated huff. Despite her annoyance, she continued to take deliberate bites of her meal. Suppressing a chuckle, I watched her, appreciating her unawareness of just how much she was indulging herself