Five
ANGELO
T he place Allison had picked was a cute, cozy, pink coffee shop and it made 100% sense that this would be where she’d take him. For some reason, he could picture her sitting in a corner booth, drinking a latte and reading a book.
He barely kept his hands to himself as they went inside the little café. She flipped her hair over her shoulder and her scent filled his nostrils. It hugged him, filling his pores and calming his soul.
Honey and lavender. The best scent I’ve ever smelled.
Angelo focused on his surroundings. Pink was everywhere. On the booths, the chairs, the walls, even the little napkins on the counter. He felt very out of place, dressed in a custom made, all-black suit, his hair styled to perfection, ready for a business meeting. But he would never be ashamed of stepping in a cute café.
Not with this woman by my side .
He just felt a tiny bit…overdressed.
Allison strutted to the counter—honest to God strutted—before greeting the girl behind the counter by name. She placed her order and Angelo chuckled.
“Is something funny, Mr. Taylor?” she questioned him, raising a perfect eyebrow with an almost teasing gleam in her eyes.
“I just had a feeling,” he replied, fully interested in seeing more of this side of her.
“A feeling?”
“That you would be a latte woman.”
A second eyebrow joined the first, leaping up like surprised acrobats. She was about to retort when the woman behind the counter cleared her throat with the finesse of someone accustomed to caffeine-fueled drama.
Angelo placed his order, his eyes never leaving Allison’s. When she started snickering, it was his turn to raise an eyebrow.
“Something amusing, Ms. Lockwood?” He smirked at her, purposefully mimicking her, though his eyebrow-raising game was not quite as sharp.
“Oh, just a hunch,” she replied, fighting back a laugh. “I had a feeling you’d be a double espresso kind of guy.”
“Touché,” he said with a grin. “And here I thought I was being all mysterious.”
“Oh, you are,” she teased, leaning in conspiratorially. “About as mysterious as a romance novel with a shirtless guy on the cover.”
“Hey, those novels are classics,” he protested with mock seriousness, finally giving in to laughter.
“Sure they are,” she agreed, rolling her eyes playfully. She was still snickering, the slightest snorting sound being heard whenever she breathed in.
Oh my fucking God, she keeps getting cuter.
“I’m on a mission to drink as much coffee as possible before I have to quit.” Allison declared, a playful glint in her eye.
Angelo raised an eyebrow. “Big coffee fan, huh?”
“More like a coffee lover,” Allison corrected with a grin. “It’s practically a love affair at this point. And honestly, I almost always pair it with a muffin.”
Angelo’s curiosity was piqued. “Why muffins?”
Allison shrugged casually, “They bring out the flavor. It’s like the muffin’s saying, ‘Hey, let me introduce you to my best friend, Coffee. You two will get along great.’”
The woman laughed, a sweet and melodic sound that made Angelo’s heart skip a beat. His gaze lingered on her, completely captivated.
“So, what’s your go-to muffin?” he asked, trying to keep the conversation going while his mind raced to find an excuse to keep talking to her.
“Blueberry, of course,” Allison said, her eyes lighting up. “Classic, reliable, and just sweet enough to keep you hooked. What about you?”
Angelo chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Oh, I’m more of a chocolate chip guy. Can’t resist the combo—chocolate and coffee? It’s basically dessert for breakfast.”
Allison nodded in approval. “Good choice. I can respect that.”
For a few moments they both stayed silent, just staring at each other. Then their coffee was ready and Angelo saw Allison’s hand move towards her purse.
Oh no you don’t, sweet girl.
He had his card out before she could blink.
“Oh, no, please don’t—” she protested before he cut her off.
“Allison,” he growled playfully. “You are not going to pay for anything in my presence. Ever. Understand?”
She crossed her arms, pretending to consider his words. “Is this some kind of old-fashioned chivalry thing? Because I can handle my own coffee, thank you very much.”
“It’s not about chivalry,” he replied, handing his card to the barista with a charming smile. “It’s about me wanting to treat you.”
“Fine,” she said, sighing dramatically. “But don’t think this means you’ve won or anything.”
“Oh, I’m keeping score,” he said with a wink. “And I’m just getting started.”
“Is that so?” she challenged, tilting her head. “What’s next? Carrying my coffee to the table?”
“If that’s what it takes,” he shot back, “though I was thinking more along the lines of taking you out for dinner.”
She looked deliciously startled, unmoving and unblinking, before she gave him a short nod.
He picked up both their drinks and stepped back. “Good. Now, pick a table, Allison.”
That seemed to bring her back to Earth and she moved towards a corner booth towards the back. A very secluded booth.
Oh, this is going to be fun.
“So, how long has it been since you last came here?” Angelo asked as he helped Allison slide in.
She sighed as she sat down, and he wondered whether it was the pregnancy or those tall heels that tired her. Maybe both. Her eyes scrunched together and her pink lips pursed as she put on her thinking face.
“It’s been about two years since,” she replied after a few seconds, stiffening when Angelo slid into the booth.
Right next to her.
“What are you—”
“Something the matter, Allison?” He taunted her. He knew she’d bite and when he saw that fire return to her eyes he couldn’t help himself. He smirked at her.
She sat up straight, facing him head on. “No, Angelo. Everything is fine.” Her voice dropped slightly when she said his name, as if she was afraid to actually say it out loud. He growled deep in his chest, the sound slipping out when he heard the tiny word fall from her mouth.
How does my name sound so good when it comes from her lips?
He cleared his throat to cover up the sound, but he caught the look that crossed her face. She’d heard it.
For a moment, they just stared at each other, lost in a bubble of their own. His mind suddenly filled with images of her belly swollen with his child, imagining the gentle curve and the life they had created together. The thought sent a wave of heat down his spine. In just a few months, she was going to look that way, embodying the profound changes their actions had brought into their lives.
God, how am I going to make it through this without touching this woman?
“Have you gone to the doctor yet?” he questioned, trying desperately to rid his mind of those unholy images that had taken root there. She looked away, lifting her latte to her lips for a quick sip, as if the warm drink could soothe her nerves.
“No.”
An ice-cold fire surged through his veins, coursing beneath his skin. “What do you mean ‘no’? You’ve known you’re pregnant for… how long exactly?”
She sighed again, the spark that once danced in her eyes now flickering out. Taking a deep breath, she seemed to brace herself for an uncomfortable conversation.
“My symptoms started last week, and I took the test a few days ago, Angelo,” she whispered, her voice barely above a breath. She still didn’t meet his eyes, but despite the weight of her revelation, he felt a glimmer of relief wash over him. It meant he hadn’t missed anything crucial; they still had time to figure this out together.
“You need to visit the OB-GYN. You know you do, Allison.” His voice was soft, like she was a puppy he didn’t want to frighten. Because this woman was anything but stupid, she knew she needed to start taking care of this baby. She was just scared.
“Would you…” she trailed off for a moment, and his heart stopped, hoping she’d say what he thought she would.
“I can come with you. If you’d like that,” Angelo supplied for her when it didn’t look like she’d continue. “I’d like to be there every step of the way, Allison.”
She met his gaze, searching for sincerity in those deep brown eyes. “You really mean that?”
“Of course,” he said, his expression unwavering. “I’m not going anywhere. Not now, not ever.”
The tension around them softened as a small smile tugged at her lips, but it was quickly replaced by uncertainty. “It’s just… I don’t want to be a burden.”
“Trust me,” he said, leaning in slightly, “you’re not a burden. You’re a lot of things, but a burden is not one of them. You’re going to be an amazing mom, and if you let me, I’ll be an amazing partner in this.”
She hesitated, contemplating the weight of his words. “What if the doctor says something I don’t want to hear?”
Angelo reached across the table, his fingers brushing against hers. “Then we’ll deal with it together. One step at a time. Like we’re in some kind of buddy cop movie where the fate of the world depends on us, only instead of saving the world, we’ll be saving your sanity.”
Allison chuckled softly, probably picturing them in matching leather jackets, chasing down rogue prenatal vitamins. “You think we’ll have to confront a villain or something?”
“Absolutely,” he said, grinning. “I can already imagine it. You, with your fierce determination, and me, the sidekick who cracks terrible jokes at the worst moments. Together, we’ll take down any bad news that dares to show up.”
“Okay, maybe that doesn’t sound too terrible,” she admitted, her laughter bubbling up like the froth on a fresh latte.
She smiled at him, and his heart raced at the sight, a whirlwind of emotions swirling within him. Her eyes sparkled with an intensity that took his breath away. They were an extraordinary shade of green, vibrant and alive, like sunlight filtering through a lush forest. He felt an overwhelming urge to dive into their depths, to lose himself in the mysteries they held, surrendering to their pull. It was as if he could float in that gaze forever, forgetting the world around him, completely content to drown in their brilliance and never resurface for air.
He strained to think of a way to escape, to halt this downward spiral. Angelo was determined not to yield to this woman’s influence. His control was paramount—it belonged to him and him alone.
“Give me your phone,” he ordered. It was a habit for him, after having every business principle ingrained in him. Her face lit up in curiosity, but she handed over the device anyway.
He looked for his contact, chuckling to himself as he changed the name in her phone and handed it back to her.
“Seriously? You put yourself down as ‘Daddy’?” she exclaimed, a mix of horror and amusement crossing her face. But the slight grin tugging at her lips betrayed her true feelings—she liked it.
Angelo shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “Well, I am the baby daddy,” he replied, his voice dripping with playful bravado.
Allison snickered, shaking her head in disbelief, and suddenly, he felt an overwhelming swell of pride.
God, I would give anything to hear her laugh like that every day.
“Then am I supposed to be the baby mama?” she quipped, leaning back in her seat. She crossed her legs, and he felt a jolt as her calf brushed against his.
Don’t look at her legs. Do not look at her damn legs.
He looked at her legs and gulped.
What did she ask me again? Oh, right.
“Um… Yes, you… You can be the mama baby—uh, the baby mama!” Angelo stammered, cursing his stupid dick for hijacking his brain at that moment. He felt flustered, like a teenage boy who had just stumbled upon a nudie magazine for the first time. Ridiculous.
Allison looked like the cat that got the cream, and suddenly he didn’t really care that he’d just made a fool of himself in front of this gorgeous woman.
All he cared about was seeing that fire again.
“So, I think we should get to know each other a bit better,” she said, her tone playful. “I only know your name and that you’re the CEO of Taylor Co. I should know more about my baby daddy!”
She shot him a mischievous grin, the kind that hinted she was just getting started.
Angelo chuckled, raising an eyebrow. “Well, what do you want to know? My favorite color? My secret recipe for the perfect avocado toast?” He leaned in mock-seriously, as if about to share the secrets of the universe.
Allison rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide her smile. “Sure, let’s start with the avocado toast. That’s crucial information.”
He smirked, enjoying the banter. “Okay, fine. It’s all about the perfect ripeness of the avocado and a pinch of salt. I’m basically a culinary genius.”
“Right,” she said, folding her arms and leaning back with an amused expression. “And what else? Any hidden talents? Can you juggle or do a backflip?”
Angelo chuckled. “I can juggle my responsibilities as CEO while trying not to trip over my own ego. Does that count?”
“Only if it comes with a side of humility,” she shot back, a teasing sparkle in her eye.
Despite the playful sparring, he felt a growing sense of connection. Maybe she had a point—they really did need to get familiar with each other.
Not in that sense you fucking idiot. Just stay down.
Angelo was having a conversation with his cock once again. He shook his head, wondering if he’d lost his mind. Allison’s next questions broke him out of his reverie.
“Where are you from? And what’s your favorite color?” Her face now looked more open. Relaxed. Encouraging.
Angelo cleared his throat and sat straight, turning slightly to face her.
“I’m half and half. My father is American, my mother is Greek. I have a sister who’s eight years younger than me. I just moved here from Athens over a month ago and my favorite color is green.” Jade green. He didn’t specify. “Your turn.”
He was eager to hear more about Allison. About the woman who, since finding her again, occupied his every thought, his every dream, his every fantasy.
“Well… We’ll have to revisit your answer after because I have questions,” she began, raising an eyebrow as if to say ‘you got a problem with that?’ At his nod of agreement she continued. “My parents are both from Washington. I have three older brothers that are absolute pains in my ass. I’ve been working for my father for almost four years now and my favorite color is pink. Not that dark pink that looks like magenta. Baby pink.”
She emphasized the specific shade as if she’d practiced that very sentence her whole life. And he, too, had questions. But before he could ask, she started with hers.
“I need to know more about this half and half thing. And I have a feeling your maternal last name would be interesting .” She leaned into him, like they were sharing a secret. He felt like she’d keep all his secrets if he asked.
“My mom was an exchange student from Greece. My dad was a waiter at the time,” Angelo began, his tone casual but reflective. “One day, she went out for coffee at the café where my dad worked. They met, they fell in love, and before long, my mom moved to America so they could get married and start a family.”
Allison listened intently, her eyes fixed on him. Angelo continued, “A few years later, I came along. Eight years after that, my sister Katerina was born. And then, they got divorced.”
He shrugged, trying to downplay the impact of his words. “It was for the best, though. Their relationship had been dead long before I came along.”
Allison tilted her head, curiosity in her gaze. “That’s quite the story. Must have been tough on you and Katerina, though.”
Angelo nodded, a faint smile playing on his lips. “Yeah, it wasn’t easy. But, you know, it taught me a lot about resilience and making the best of what you’ve got. My mom went back to Greece, and my dad threw himself into his work. Katerina and I grew up fast, but we have a stronger bond because of it.”
“So, did you like living close to your mom?” Allison asked, appearing genuinely interested.
“Oh, it was great,” Angelo replied emphatically. “Greece is beautiful, and it’s always great to reconnect with that part of my heritage. Plus, Mom makes the best spanakópita in the world.”
Allison laughed. “Well, I’ll have to try it someday.”
His heart seemed to skip a beat or two at the thought, and Angelo made a mental note to contact a cardiologist.
“And you lived in Athens?” she asked, leaning in a bit closer. Curiosity was painted all over her face.
Angelo nodded, enjoying this impromptu interrogation. “I was in charge of our office there for the past decade. Then my father requested I come back, so that’s what I did.”
“Did your mother and sister come, too?” She didn’t even have to think about it. She just fired question after question.
“No. They’re back in Athens. They love it there and I would never ask them to upheave their lives just because I wanted to be closer to them.”
“You didn’t answer my question.”
“What are you talking—”
“Your mother’s last name. I know Greeks have complicated last names and I want to know yours. For academic purposes of course.” She crossed her arms and shrugged, the picture of carelessness.
“Of course.”
He almost felt dizzy at the sudden subject change, but Angelo admitted to himself just how much he enjoyed this side of Allison. She appeared relaxed, truly at ease, even though she hadn’t touched her blueberry muffin.
She waited with baited breath, as if that single piece of information was the most exciting thing she would ever learn.
“My mother’s last name is Papadopoulou. Interesting enough for you?”
She didn’t reply. She stared, and then, out of nowhere, she turned red.
Oh? What’s that about?
She avoided his gaze, fidgeting with her napkin and taking another sip of her latte.
“What’s on your mind, Allison?” He whispered her name like a prayer, wanting to tease her as much as she would let him.
“Well… Your last name.”
“What of it?” He needed to know. He wanted access to her most private thoughts.
“It’s…Um, you could have a nickname from that.” She looked at him like that would be the end of it, but there was no way he would drop this now. Not when she was flushed so beautifully.
“Elaborate,” he ordered. She jumped and blushed harder, which instantly piqued his interest.
“It’s just a silly thought, really. There’s no reason to even think about this—” She began to ramble, before he cut her off just the way she seemed to like.
“Allison. Elaborate.” Her name as an order was the only thing she needed. He planned to use that tidbit of information a lot in the next few months.
“Papi.”
One word. A silly word if he was being honest. A word he would typically have no interest in.
That single word was all it took for him to stop breathing. Because that was even better than her calling him daddy. And he needed to hear it again.
“What did you just say?” He practically growled. That one word had turned him hungry. Ravenous. And there was only one thing that would satisfy him.
Her.
“I told you, it’s just a silly nickname and you don’t even have to—”
“Say it again.”
She stilled. “What?” she whispered, her eyes shifting between his own and his lips.
“Say. It. Again.”
She gulped, but she didn’t look away. She kept looking at him. At his face, which he was sure resembled that of a starving animal right in that moment. She took a deep breath, preparing herself and—
His cellphone rang.
He nearly threw the fucking thing across the café.
Damn you, little cock block.
He watched her as he spoke on the phone. Her face went from shy to disappointed to relieved in the span of a minute. The last one hurt at first. When he finally hung up his head was clear and he knew exactly why she felt relieved.
Because this wasn’t a date. They weren’t two people meeting for the first time.
Her father was his business rival for crying out loud. The man tried to steal his business associates every chance he got. But for a moment, just a single moment, he’d forgotten that.
And he wanted to forget again. So he kept up their little game. He asked her a question this time.
“Why baby pink?” That was all he could come up with in that moment.
She took a second to compose herself and turned to look at him before answering.
“If I tell you, you have to promise you won’t laugh.”
Just like that, he was back in his playful mood. He nodded once, signifying he promised and she went on.
“My mother had always loved colors. She was the kind of woman that color coded everything, making sure any decor would be perfectly aesthetic. So, when she had kids, she color coded them, and she gave me her favorite color. My full name is Allison Pink Lockwood,” she explained. His mind got caught on the way she used past tense.
“I’m sorry.” She looked confused by his apology, so he continued. “About your mother.”
Her eyes grew misty, but she didn’t cry. She didn’t allow the smallest tear.
My strong girl.
“Thank you,” she whispered to him, looking away.
He loved the vulnerability they shared, but he wanted her spark back. So he changed the subject.
“Why that shade though? Why not fuchsia? Or salmon?”
His knowledge of different shades of the color brought an amused smile to her face.
“I will admit, I’m a bit scared that you know multiple shades of pink.” She smirked at him and he was forced to remind himself exactly why he couldn’t just grab this woman and claim her lips, her body, her fucking soul.
“Come on, Pinkie. Spill,” he spurred her on. A smirk of his own adorned his face as hers grew wider, her cheeks filling with color once more.
“I don’t really know. I’ve always liked pastel colors more than vibrant shades, I guess. Maybe that’s it.” She shrugged, but the smirk never left her face.
“Buckle up, then, Pinkie,” he said with a playful glint in his eye, his tone teasing.
She raised an eyebrow, curiosity coloring her face. “Oh? And why’s that?”
“Something tells me things are about to get interesting.”