70

Cara
Dimitra leans forward across the table, smiling happily. Helen, Lycus, and Eros are all listening too. “He said what?” Dimitra asks.
“Seriously, Old Harry said he was open for business. You should’ve seen Ophelia’s face. She called him an old pervert and everyone went nuts. Those geezers made such a ruckus, it was hilarious.” I beam at my mother-in-law as she covers her mouth and laughs.
She’s still in all black, but these days there are splashes of color, like she’s beginning to thaw from a long freeze. Tonight, a pink scarf is wrapped around her neck.
When I first met Dimitra, In ever would’ve told her a dirty story like what happened back at the diner. But the more I’ve gotten to know her, the more I realize she appreciates humor, even the dirty kind.
“I like that girl,” Dimitra says. “She needs to come around more often.”
“Please, Mother, don’t encourage her,” Eros says with a sigh. “I think Phel is going to drive me insane.”
“You just can’t handle her teasing, brother dearest,” Helen says and winks at me. “I like Phel. She’s welcome whenever. Don’t let grumpy-fuck keep her away.”
“Grumpy-face?” he grunts at her.
“I like that,” I say, batting my eyes at him. “My big grumpy-fuck.”
“It does suit you, dear,” Dimitra says.
“God damn it.” Eros takes a long sip of whiskey as I laugh with his sister and his mother.
We spend the meal swapping stories. Mostly small talk, mostly nothing special. We do this once a week at least, every Sunday, though I eat meals with Helen and Eros most nights. Lycus shows up occasionally, and so does Dimitra, but we make sure to have everyone together on Sundays. Even though Lycus technically isn’t part of the Khazan family, he’s a steady presence, and Helen seems to enjoy having him around. If at least so she can eat off his plate and make fun of him.
“Seriously, Helen, fork to your damn self,” he grumbles at her.
“What? You’re barely eating, you skinny asshole. Give me that.”
“I swear, I’ll stab your fingers.”
“Try it. Go ahead.” She grins at him and snatches a piece of broccoli.
Lycus sighs and scrapes a hand through his hair.
I sit back and watch my friends and family. Dimitra smiles at Eros, and he smiles back. There’s a fondness between them now, a softness that wasn’t here when I first came to the house. Things have been so calm without Sophia and Anissa, and though I know Dimitra misses her sister, she’s been thriving ever since they were banished. I haven’t heard anything about them, and I haven’t asked. Some part of me is smart enough to leave some things a mystery.
“Everyone, a toast,” Dimitra says, raising her glass. “To the Khazan family. To Eros, the lord, and his wife. To Helen, my loving daughter, and Eros’s loyal friend, Lycus.”
“And to you, mother,” Eros says.
We cheers and drink as dessert comes out.
When the plates are cleared and I kiss Dimitra on the cheek, I take Eros’s hand and he leads me out. I can hear Helen sniping at Lycus, and Lycus getting increasingly annoyed. “They’re going to kill each other,” I comment.
“My sister is relentless,” Eros agrees.
“But then again, Lycus seems to enjoy it.”
“I don’t know about that.” His expression darkens. “Lycus is like family, but I’m not happy about your insinuating.”
“Oh, come on, Eros. Lycus and your sister? Wouldn’t that be the dream?”
“No,” he says firmly, sharper than I expected. It surprises me, the sudden anger. “There are things about Lycus. About both of them. It’s a bad match.”
“Huh,” I say softly and touch his arm. “You’re letting it get to you too much.”
Months ago, he would’ve pulled back. He would’ve growled something sharp at me and stormed off.
Instead, he looks into my eyes and makes himself relax. “You’re right. I just don’t like it.”
I slip my hand into his. “How about we talk about something you will like instead?”
That gets his attention. We reach our door and step into our sitting room. I cross over to the couch and lounge back, grinning at him as I prop my head up on one hand.
He lingers, staring at me, arms crossed.
“Is this the part where you tell me about your blowjob mood?”
“What? Oh, no, I’m over that.” I wave him away and love the disappointed sigh that escapes him. “I have something even better.”
That brings him back. “Even better? Now I’m intrigued.”
“Come here.” I pat the seat next to me. “Join me on the divan.”
“The… divan? It’s a couch. Since when did you get fancy as fuck?”
“Sit down, asshole.”
He flops down beside me, grinning. “I’m here. Now what?” He puts a hand on my thigh.
I shift closer and run my fingers through his hair. I’m suddenly nervous-I should’ve discussed this with him earlier, but I wanted it to be a fun surprise. Now that I think about it, this is not the sort of thing you drop on your husband randomly on a Sunday night after dinner with his mother, but, hell, I came this far. Might as well let my big, stupid mouth see me through this mess.
“I stopped taking my birth control.”
He falls silent, staring at me. I grin sheepishly. Time stops for a moment. We’ve been talking about kids as a possibility, but neither of us said anything about having them right now. But a few days ago, I was standing in the bathroom, the pill on my tongue, and I realized something.
I don’t need them anymore.
I’m not afraid of being trapped. I’m not afraid of getting stuck in this place with Eros.
In fact, I want it.
I want children. A life. A family. I want tethers holding me even tighter to my husband. To this house. To these people, this world.
Because I love it more than I ever dreamed I could.
“You did?” he asks in a quiet voice. “When?”
“I took my last one yesterday. I’m not ovulating yet so it doesn’t matter, but-”
He grabs me and pulls me into his lap. I let out a surprised yelp as he grips my ass so tight it’s like he wants to dig his fingers into my flesh.
“You’re not on birth control anymore,” he growls softly, staring at me like I’m a buffet and he’s starving.
“Yes, sir,” I say meekly. “Are you mad?”
“No,” he says, shaking his head slowly. “I’m not even close to mad.”
“Are you… happy?”
“Yes, asteraki mu, I am happy. I am very happy.”
Pride and joy swells into my chest. Also, relief. This could’ve gone bad.
But it didn’t!
“That’s what I was hoping,” I say, sinking into him.
He kisses me slow and deep, holding me there for a long moment, and I feel him reacting between my legs.
“You do realize I’m going to spend every waking moment of every hour trying to get you pregnant now, right?”
“Honestly? I was sort of hoping you would. I’ve been hydrating and stretching.”
“Good girl.” His fingers slip into my hair and he pulls. A thrill runs hot and tingly deep into my core. “Shall we start now?”
“Yes, please,” I say, wiggling my hips.
And we do.
We very much do.