“I’m sorry about Lauren,” Madison mumbles when I climb into the driver’s seat.

I wait to start the truck, my hand gripping hers first. “I would’ve answered as many questions as she had. I understand her concern, and I meant what I said, I’m glad she’s there to protect you.”

When I think she’s appeased, I insert the keys in the ignition and start the engine.

“Now, where do you want to eat?” I ask.

Pulling away from the curb, Madison waves to her neighbors standing on their porch watching a little girl and boy jump in puddles on the sidewalk.

“That’s the ADA I was telling you about, Reed Warner,” she says as the kids wave and scream Maddie’s name when we drive away.

“Oh yeah, and that’s his family?”

She nods. “Well, his fiancée and her daughter. The little boy is around a lot so I’m not really sure if he’s just a friend or a relation. They’re cute though, right?”

The look of longing on her face says she wants what they have. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t either, but wanting and getting are two different things.

“Very cute.”

She settles in the seat, crossing her legs. “I’m not really dressed for a nice dinner, so how about Portillos?”

“Sure.” I flick on my turn signal.

Once we have a destination, silence looms in the car.

“What about you? Do you want a family? I mean, I’m not implying…”

I laugh and she stops her rambling. Reaching over, I grip her hand again, entwining our fingers like the real couple we’re becoming.

“I’m Italian, I’m not really sure I have a choice if I want a family.” I chuckle and give her hand a squeeze. “My ma is already down all our throats for grandchildren. The Catholic guilt might crush Cristian, but not me or Luca. We’ll take that step when we’re ready.”

My words are the truth, but I’m failing to mention one thing. That trusting someone is hard for me and after Jenna, even harder. Since that’s a key component of promising yourself to someone forever, I’m not sure when I’ll be ready for that huge step.

“I’d rather have that than your parents just assuming you’ll never get married or have kids. My mom thinks my independence scares off men. My dad still sees me as the ugly duckling I was in high school.”

“Don’t say that about yourself.” I let her hand go so I can put my signal on and turn a corner.

Agitation bursts through me hot and angry. We sit in silence for a minute before we pull into the parking lot of Portillos and I slam the truck into park, turning to face her.

“Beauty isn’t just something you find on the outside. Besides, you weren’t that bad in high school.”

She raises her eyebrows at me in challenge.

“Listen, the inside of someone can make them ugly, too. Someone can be attractive and present themselves with a perfect bow on top, but if when you get to know them, they’re mean and callous with your heart, you no longer see their beauty. I understand that you have your hang-ups from high school, but I noticed you the night of the auction. I’m going to lay myself on the line here.” I inhale a deep breath and squeeze the steering wheel in my hands.

“When someone pointed you out as the winner of a date with me, my breath caught in my throat. Mentally I already had us in every sexual position possible, my lips on every inch of your skin as I buried myself inside of you over and over again.”

She flushes and looks away, but I use my other hand to rest under her chin, bringing her eyes back on me.

“But it’s these last few weeks…the beauty inside of you that has drawn me to you even more. I know I ridiculed you for being a people pleaser, but I was wrong. You genuinely care for people and how they’re feeling. The way you bring water for the crew. Tell someone to take a break when you noticed they’re bagged. The fact you know more than me about the guys I’ve been working side by side with for years. You remember their wives and kids names and ask how their little league game went the day before. How you trust me and you see the person I am inside of me. Madison, you’ve come to consume my thoughts, my heart, hell my life in a matter of weeks.”

She smiles, beams really, her cheek leaning into the palm of my hand, the strands of her hair tickling my forearm. I lean over the center console, pressing my lips to hers. As much as I want to deepen our kiss, her stomach growls from hunger, so I pull away with a chuckle.

“Too many interruptions.” She fists my shirt and pulls me closer, our lips colliding, our tongues each trying to claim dominance.

I want to slide my seat back, pull her over onto my lap, kiss her neck and nibble on her earlobe. I’d do just about anything to feel her heart beating against my chest. Who am I kidding? I want to take her home and lock her in my room for an eternity.

Slowing our kiss, our chests both heave for a breath and I rest my forehead on hers. “I’m going to feed you and then take you to your place before we lose control.”

I want nothing more than to bury myself deep inside her, but I don’t want to screw this up by pushing her too fast.

She giggles. “Who said I wanted to go home?” She climbs out of the truck before I have a chance to open the door, rounding the front and waiting for me.

I hop out of the driver’s side, adjust my half-erect dick and quickly grab her hand when I reach her. “You’re going to have to learn to wait for me to open the door for you.”

She places a hand on my bicep and leans her head on my shoulder. “Oh, Mauro, I enjoy chivalry, but I don’t need help in and out of the car.”

“It’s not about you needing help, it’s gentlemanly.”

“Well, when we go on a real date, I promise to wait.”

I stop us before entering the rotating door to the place. “I wanted to ask you. Will you go out with me on Thursday? Me, you, and a fancy restaurant?”

Her eyes light up and she smiles so wide it encompasses her entire face. “I’d love to.”

We head inside where I buy her a hot dog and fries. We talk a bit about everything including what it was like for me to grow up in a large Italian family and how much they mean to me. She actually seems excited when I talk about our Sunday dinners.

With any luck, she’ll find out soon enough that they’re much more than spaghetti and meatballs.