CHAPTER 65 – CASPIAN
I park in front of Cole’s house, trying to unclench my jaw and relax my shoulders.
I’m so tense I’d make even a seasoned chiropractor quit and find a new career. The entire drive from the hospital, I’ve been berating myself. I shouldn’t have left him. How could I have been so careless? He’s been through a lot. Too much.
We had sex last night—the most significant night of my life, and very likely his too—and what did I do?
I left him alone to navigate the Baywood gossip mill.
I’m a monster.
Opening the door, I’m hit with the mouth-watering scent of garlic and tomato.
Antonio is at Cole’s stove, looking… fine. Absolutely fine.
Noah is at the table, coloring and popping cherry tomatoes into his mouth like candy.
Cole is sitting in Xaden’s lap, one arm slung around his neck, both of them watching Antonio cook with quiet interest.
Okay.
This doesn’t look like the catastrophe my imagination suggested. This looks like a domestic fever dream.
Antonio turns, and his whole face lights up.
He sets the wooden spoon aside and practically runs into my arms. He wraps himself around me and buries his face into the crook of my neck.
“For the record, I was not panicking.”
I kiss him until Noah’s giggling reminds me we have an audience.
“No one has implied that you were.”
“Good,” he says fiercely. “Because that would be slander.”
I kiss his forehead before he leaves my arms.
“Also, Xaden insists I wasn’t an agent,” he says.
He glares at Xaden.
“Sweetheart,” I say carefully, “what makes you think you were an agent?”
“It’s self-explanatory, really,” he argues, marching back to his sauce. “We brought them food. During the operation. In the middle of our date.”
He stirs the pot like he’s seasoning it with self-pity.
“That’s called operational support.”
“That’s called a food delivery,” Xaden replies with a smirk.
I shoot him a warning look.
Antonio has been through enough today. If he has it in his head that he’s an agent, then he can damn well be one.
Xaden catches my drift and gives me a dry, amused smile.
“Fine. You were an undercover nourishment consultant,” he tells Antonio.
“Undercover nourishment consultant special agent,” Antonio corrects without missing a beat.
“We thank you for your service,” Xaden says mock-solemnly. “Without the spaghetti, the bad guys would still be walking free.”
Antonio bursts into laughter.
“I was messing with you,” he says.
“Tonio was being silly,” Noah informs us.
We sit down to eat.
“Stone, do you happen to know why Noah’s carrying around an Easter egg ring?” Xaden asks, sounding very matter-of-fact.
Cole sighs. I can see him bumping Xaden’s knee under the table.
Antonio blushes.
Noah replies to Xaden himself.
“Because I’m Caspian’s ring bear,” he says, sounding very proud.
Okay. I will not cry in front of Bailey.
Even if that was the most adorable thing Noah has ever said.
“You’re the best ring bear,” I confirm.
To be honest, I don’t care that my dream to marry Antonio is being discussed publicly. It’s basically manifesting. Xaden’s doing me a favor.
Right after his last forkful of pasta, Noah announces he’s not tired at all. That means Cole has approximately five minutes to get him ready for his nap before all hell breaks loose.
In the car, Antonio is quiet.
He listens when I tell him about Penelope, but I can feel something gnawing at him.
“I’m sorry for being an embarrassment,” he finally says. “Again.”
“You’re not an embarrassment. What brought this on?”
“I swear I wasn’t panicking,” he rushes on. “I was upset, which is fundamentally different. I just wondered why you were gone so long. Then I thought maybe everyone was whispering about me, saying I was having a meltdown. But I wasn’t.”
He seems very adamant about this.
“I know you weren’t.”
“So I thought I should write you a list. A catalog of all the ways I’m a burden to you.”
His leg is bouncing.
“Antonio.” My voice is soft.
“Ann-Sabrina sells notebooks and pens,” he explains earnestly, as if I were worried about practicalities. Then, quieter, “I’m sorry I let you down.”
He looks at me, eyes bright and worried.
“You didn’t let me down. You’ve never let me down. I’m proud of you.”
“You are?”
“So proud.”
I reach across the console and take his hand. “You did so well today.”
“I did?”
“Yeah. Do you want to know what people in Baywood are actually whispering about?”
“What?”
“How lucky I am. How much they like you. How funny and smart and fierce and loyal you are.”
He blushes, a pleased smile tugging at his lips.
“Really?”
“Really. And they’re right. You make me the luckiest man in the world.”
He leans back in his seat, his eyes closing as the tension leaves him.
“You are lucky,” he says. “But I’m pretty lucky too.”
He opens his eyes and gives me a smug look.
“I told Ann-Sabrina you’re my romance hero, and it’s true.”
For a second, the world stops. My throat tightens, and so does my grip on the steering wheel as I try to keep myself together.
He says it so simply—like it’s an undisputed truth.
I’m his romance hero.
I don’t deserve this kind of faith, but I want to earn it.
I want to be the man he thinks I am.
I want to spend every morning of the rest of my life waking up to that honor.
To a new day of being his romance hero.