Chapter 25 When chocolate helps

"What is all this?" Mia inquire very curious about what I obtained from the grocery store, glancing into the bag as I place it on the small kitchen counter next to the old stove.

"I told you I was going to get us some food didn't I?" I swat away her hand from the bag that she tries to open. She was so inquisitive as always, but she seemed different, better.

"I know." She removes her hand from the bag for a moment just to attempt at it again using the other hand this time. "I just thought that you were going to bring us Burgers or chips or something." She shrugs pulling out the bottle of extra virgin cooking oil which I remove from her hand and place on the counter. "Not fresh ingredients." She really does sound surprised as she tangles the diminutive bag of garlic cloves in the air.

"Give me that." I once more remove the item from her hand placing it next to the oil. "Take this one." I shove the other bag towards her to empty it.

"What is this?" A huge smile spread over her lovely face resulting in a warm sensation inside my chest. I like seeing her happy. "Is this for me?" She gloats removing the roses from the bag and placing them on the counter continuing to Withdraw the other items. A wine that I knew she would love and a variety of chocolates because I wasn't even sure what her favorite was so I took one of each that seemed like they were palatable. "I love these." She opens the Toblerone immediately and breaks apart a triangular piece and places it in her mouth while she removes a vase from the kitchen window and fills it with water for the roses. "So what are we making?" She take a seat on the counter next to where I finally unpacked the rest of my ingredients.

"Pasta amatriciana." Or at least a dish as near to it as I was able to get the ingredients.

"Sounds fancy." She mouths the word 'Amatriciana' a few times until she becomes used to it.

"It is not." I correct her. "Where does your mother keep the knives?" I ask and the little eager figure quickly complies jumping from the cupboard to show me the location of where the knives live. "Who would have thought that I would live to see the day that Don Damian we're cooking me lunch in my moms' kitchen." She snicker handing me a knife to chop the garlic and onions into fine pieces so that they could become part of the sauce and not chunky pieces. I really do love this side of Mia and honestly, if I knew telling her the truth and being so open and honest with her would result in her being this light and carefree I might have considered doing it a long time ago, but then again, how was I supposed to know that she would become a part of me.

"There is still a lot to be learned about what I can do." I tease her taking the knife from her hand and placing it on the wooden chopping board before I turn her around in my arms so that her back was against my front. I hug her tightly against me moving my hands from her shoulders down her arms captivating every tremor resulting from the oxytocin that is released in her body and her body goes rigid against me.

"Hey." She giggles as I swiftly raise her hand holding the chocolate bar and I bite off a triangle before letting her go.

"That is not fair." She pouts folding her arms over her chest and trying to cover her hard nipples. I adored that I had this effect on her. "You bought it for me and I am not sharing."

"If you don't make yourself useful by pouring us some wine I might find other ways for the both of us to enjoy your sweets." I wink at her playfully.

"Yes, Signore." She nods and heads for a cupboard where she removes two glasses and then starts to fill them with the red velvety liquid. "Montepulciano d'Abruzzo" She speak the name of the wine so perfectly and I start to heat the olive oil over medium heat using the medium size pan I grabbed from the rack hanging over our heads.

"How do you know so much about wine?" I question her as she hands me a glass, waiting for me to complete the task of placing the pancetta into the warm pan. If my mother saw me now she would be mad at my choice of ingredients, but this was all I could find to use.

"I guess we all have our secrets." She lick at the redness remaining on her lips caused by the wine. "I don't know anything about wine, but I do have taste buds and I had time, an internet connection, and a whole seller of impeccable choices at my disposal recently." She jokingly references my house. "Maybe I just didn't want to look like an airhead around you." She admit she wanted to impress me and I feel flattered that already then she was trying to in grain me.

That also explains all the different bottles of wine she took to bed nightly.

"I have never thought of you as an airhead." I quote her words. "In fact, you always came across as a smart young woman."

"Flattering will get you nowhere, Damian." She warns breaking another piece of chocolate from the triangular block biting off the corner and then putting the rest of it into my mouth which I don't complain about. The sweetness was alarming, I cannot even remember the last time I had chocolate. "What can I do?" She questions watching me as I remove the rendered and crispy pancetta from the pan into a small bowl setting it to one side.

"Why don't you add the onions and some red pepper flakes to the pan and I will put up the pasta." She nods grabs a wooden spoon and set off on her mission to cook the onions while I do my part. "You can add some salt too." I hand her the pot of sold.

"You know my mom probably already has all these ingredients in the cupboard. You really shouldn't have bought all of this." She turns a little more serious and a little less playful as she occasionally stirs the onions.

"Force of habit." I shrug knowing that she will grasp the reference to my empty cupboards back home."

"We should do something about that."

"Did your mother teach you to cook?" She slips in a question that I knew would pop up soon. "Because I mean... Madre... She is an artist in the kitchen. The things she can do with the least of ingredients... Amazing!" She kisses the air holding her hand up, pinching all her fingers together just like an Italian cook would when something was delicious. I chuckle at her words as I add the garlic into the pan with the translucent onions seizing the spoon from Mia's other hand and I start stirring it continuously.

"You can say that." Madré didn't place a pot or pan in my hands and gave me instructions and I don't believe that I ever came near her cooking pots while she was in the kitchen, but I saw what she was doing when she started cooking and I sat at the counter doing my homework in the afternoon. I mostly started making my own food once I moved out, I went on instinct and what I could remember my mother doing. Going through all the trouble for only one individual seemed like a waste of time to me and my time started to become valuable, too valuable. "Keep on stirring," I instruct Mia to let her move in front of me and hand the spoon back to her, not removing it from the pan. "Speaking of mothers..." I add the tomato paste. "Where is yours?" I realized not seeing Giogia's face for a while.

"She went to pick up my dad." Mia shifts her weight from her one leg to the other.

"She shouldn't be driving."

"I know, but she insisted."

"We should do something about that." I lean onto my right elbow on the counter watching her put all her concentration into what she was doing.

"I know that look." She smiles noticing me staring at her. "Don't do something drastic, like make my dad quit his job or confine my mother to the house." She roll her eyes at me overstating what I would usually do.

"Don't exaggerate," I add the canned tomatoes and reserved crispy pancetta from earlier into the pan once the paste turns a little darker.

"That looks good." I take the spoon from her hand after she thoroughly mixed through all the ingredients. "Let's leave that to simmer for a few minutes." I turn her around to face me and pull her towards me so that she didn't stand so close to the stove.

"This is nice." She beams. "Why have we never done this before?" She places the side of her head on my chest leaning against me and automatically my arm rounds her and my hand entangles in her soft hair.

"Usually you are fighting with me or trying to shoot me." I jokingly tell her as I brush my fingers through her hair.

"Can we stay here tonight?" She turns her head lifting it upwards to look me in the eye. "I am not going to sleep in the hospital again and there is no need for you to pay for a hotel room."

"I am not going to pay for the hotel." I remind her locking my arms around her back. "I don't think this is the best idea." I plant a kiss on her forehead. "The last time we slept here..."

"It won't be like that."

"How do you know?"

"Because you promised me that it won't happen again and I know you have extra security detail watching us, the house, and my parents." She rises to her toes returning my kiss and I accept her fully and completely, deepening our connection. I lick into her mouth tasting wine, chocolate, and Mia. My favorite combination.

"Well isn't this lovely?" A deep stern tone voices his disapproval of what was happening in his kitchen making Mia break the kiss faster than the speed of light and removing her arms from over my shoulders.

"Daddy." Mia blushes and this would also be the second time I have seen her turn almost as red as the tomatoes on the kitchen counter. "How are you?" She throws her arm around her father who returns her hug.

"Son." He nods his head in a manner of greeting and I mimic his action. "Let me go clean up myself." He excuses himself from the kitchen on his way to the bathroom.

"I am sorry about that." She apologizes quickly watching me stir the mixture on the stove before taking some sauce onto the spoon and blowing gently on it in a manner to cool it down before bringing it closer to her mouth.

"You never need to apologize to me for being caught by anyone when you kiss me," I assure her before letting her taste the sauce from the spoon.

"Wow. That is amazing." She reveals as I take back the spoon and head to strain the spaghetti. "That is not what I mean." She follows me closely as I continue to transfer the pasta directly into the pan and toss it with the sauce.

"Hand me the cheese?" I ask her and she immediately accomplishes the chore without resistance or backlash adding the pecorino cheese while I gradually add the starchy pasta water to loosen the condiment.

"Pasta Amatriciana." Giorgia makes her presence known in the kitchen. "I cannot remember the last time I had this for dinner." She peaks over Mia's shoulder. "Why don't I get the table ready and dish up while the two of you go sit down."

"No." Mia shakes her head. "I will help you and Ben can join daddy in the dining room for a whiskey." She orders and we comply, although I already regretted the gas I was about to throw down my throat. "Damian," Mia speaks my surname pausing me in my tracts and I turn on my heels to find out what she wants, but what she does surprises me. She locks her lips over mine and rewards me with a quick but passionate and deep kiss. "I meant to apologize for so suddenly ending our kiss, not for kissing you or that my dad saw us." She whispers into my ear.