“You’re allowed to wish things were different,” I suggested.
“I know, but it’s not fair to be angry at her. Nor is it necessary.” He sighed. “And deep down, I’m also angry as hell that she left me. As much as my brain knows it wasn’t her fault, that she fought to live with everything she had, my heart is still having trouble understanding. But then I felt guilty for that, too. Tilly and I talked about it, though, and that helped. A lot.”
I finished stretching out the dough and laid it down on the pizza peel before wiping my hands and reaching across to take one of his hands in mine. I leaned forward and kissed it since I couldn’t reach any other part of him. “I know you know this, but those feelings are completely normal and to be expected. Anger is part of grief.”
“Thank you for saying that. It’s just… This big family is so full of life, Darius. It’s not fair that she missed the chance to be a part of it. She would have fit in with these weirdos so much better than I do.”
I paused in the act of ladling marinara sauce to give him a curious glance. “Do you really think that?”
“Sure. She would have loved all of the personalities and the crowds of…” He stopped and frowned. “Hmm. Actually, she wouldn’t have enjoyed this setting at all. She hated crowds of noisy people.”
“And I think you’re underestimating yourself,” I suggested gently. “You might not be comfortable around strangers, but it’s a different story around people who accept you and care about you.”
“I think you might be right.” He seemed to realize what he’d just agreed to. “Wait. You think they… yeah. Yes. They do.” Miller beamed at me. “I love those weirdos.”
“Uh-huh.” I returned his smile. “Other than being pissed at Tilly, you seemed pretty comfortable around everyone tonight. Not overwhelmed at all.”
He sat up a little straighter. “You’re right. And even when I was upset at Tilly, everyone was kind and gracious.”
“Because they accept you for who you are, not just as Tilly’s grandson. They love you, too, you know. Every single person at that table tonight was concerned about you. They want you to be happy, Miller. No matter what that looks like. Tilly, too. She cares about you a lot.”
He nodded. “I know that now. And I understand why Tilly hesitated when my mom wanted to meet her. She was scared, and she let that hold her back. And she regrets that now.”
I finished putting the toppings on the pizza before sliding it into the oven. Then I made my way around the kitchen island and stepped between his legs. I took his hands in mine.
“Someone else at that table tonight cares about you an awful lot, too,” I said softly.
His eyes danced. “Was it Saint Wilde? Because he’s hot as hell. And we’re not blood related. Also? His husband is tiny. I could probably take him in an arm wrestle.”
I let go of one of his hands and poked him in the chest. “No. And now that cocky bastard is dead to me.”
Miller gripped my poking hand and brought it to his lips, where he pressed a soft kiss to my fingertip. “Was it my second choice? The Greek god with the sexy man bun and all the gorgeous ink that makes my dick hard?”
I stepped closer to him and leaned in to press my lips at the very edge of his. “Mm. Am I at least a close second?” I murmured before moving my lips across his cheek to his ear.
“Really close,” he breathed as I took his earlobe between my teeth. “Like… maybe new first choice kind of close.”
I nibbled on his ear and neck before returning my lips to his and taking my time with a lazy exploration of his mouth. When the oven timer buzzed, I jumped.
When we finally sat down on the sofa with our pizza, Miller returned to the subject of Tilly. “I told her to stop risking her life on stupid pranks like hijacking horse-drawn carriages.”
I tried hard not to choke on my pizza. Imagining sweet Miller giving his grandmother the riot act made me laugh. “How did she take that?”
“She told me she’d take her safety more seriously,” he said with a grin. “But we’ll see what that actually looks like. She explained that she’s doing her best to live her life out loud. I can’t blame her.” He paused before looking up at me from under his lashes. “She told me she loves me.”
My heart squeezed with affection. “Of course she does. Who wouldn’t?”
Our eyes stayed locked for a few beats as the words sat impatiently on my tongue.
Not yet.
It wasn’t time, and this wasn’t the night for it, no matter how confident I felt about the future. Sometime soon, and with complete abandon, I would say those three words to him for the first time of many. But in the meantime, I would be patient and—