Page 41 of Touch Of Fate

“Don’t worry.” I open my door and get out. Rome jogs around the car and reclaims my hand. Archer smiles.

“They came early and have a table in the back,” he informs us.

Archer opens the door for us, and we enter the busy space. A dozen tables are steps from the door. A bar is along the right, and the barstools are full. There are booths on the back wall. The noise is overwhelming, as are the bodies walking through the tables delivering food. I press closer to Rome, his hand in mine a lifeline. Archer informs the server of the name of our party, and we follow her to the back. Fortunately, three bigger tables are in the far corner, spaced out and more private. Rome's family stands when they see us.

“Didn’t I tell you, Arthur?” Margarete whispers, nudging her husband.

“You did,” he replies, smiling.

“Dad.” Rome embraces his father with one arm.

“My boy,” Arthur says, pounding his back. His dad is the same height as Rome. His hair is a darker blonde. His energy is bright, and he shows his love easily.

“This is my Mara,” Rome says, pulling away.

“So good to meet you,” Arthur says, but he doesn’t try to touch me.

“You too.” I smile and nod.

“Archer, are you keeping him in line?” Arthur asks, hugging him.

“As much as possible,” Archer says dryly.

“Mara, this is my uncle Mavin.”

“Dear, it's so good to see you,” Mavin says, his eyes sparkling. He is shorter and slimmer than the other men. His black hair is styled, and his clothes are pressed.

“Hello.” He must have also been warned about my touch.

“Sit, sit,” Adeline says. Rome pulls my chair out, and I sit gratefully. He positions me with my back against the wall and takes the chair beside mine. His parents are across the table, and his aunt and uncle are to our left. Archer sits to our right.

“This is wonderful,” Margarete says, placing her napkin on her lap. She’s about to go on when the waitress stops at the table. We order drinks, and she passes out menus.

“How long are you staying?” Rome asks.

“Son, are you trying to get rid of us?” Arthur asks, smirking.

“How could you tell?” Rome cups my hand and settles it on my knee.

“Shit, I told her that we should stay away.” He shakes his head and looks at Margarete fondly. “You know how she is.”

“Is it wrong to want to welcome Mara into the family?” Margarete asks, and my breath stops. “She is my daughter-in-law, and she needs to know we are glad Rome found her.”

“I found her,” Archer says.

“Yes, Archer, good job,” Adeline says, winking.

“You need the credit,” Rome mumbles.

“Yes.” Archer grins slyly.

“I don’t want Rome to mess it up,” Margarete whispers to Arthur.

“Fuck, Mom,” Rome sighs.

“Woman, he’s my son. He’s not going to fuck it up.” Arthur glares.

“He’s been known to,” Adeline mutters.