I’m a calm person. My emotions are steady, constant.

It’s rare that I ever get worked up and, when I do, it’s usually because of something pertaining to my job. Outside of that, there isn’t much that affects me.

But when I walked up to Shelby’s door at five minutes until six, I was a damn mess. My hands were shaking, my stomach was rolling, and a line of sweat coated the length of my spine.

I was more nervous than I’d ever been in my life.

This was supposed to be casual.

It was just supposed to be two people plus one tiny person sharing a meal.

But, to me, it wasn’t like that at all.

To me, it felt like I was auditioning for a once-in-a-lifetime role.

A role that I wanted more than my next breath, even if I didn’t understand why.

With my fisted hand hovering inches from the door, I inhaled deeply. “Get your shit together, Moretti,” I whispered to myself. “Don’t blow it, you fucking idiot.”

I knocked on the door three times.

Knock, knock, knock.

Footsteps sounded through the house seconds before the door was pulled open.

My breath caught in my chest as I waited to catch sight of her.

One second later, there she stood, the most beautiful woman in the world.

Shelby was barefoot, wearing only a light blue summer dress that hugged every one of her plentiful curves like a second skin. Both her toenails and fingernails were painted metallic silver and coated in glitter. She wore no make-up or jewelry. Her hair was hanging wildly in loose waves over her shoulders and chest.

“Jesus Christ,” I murmured as I dropped my right hand to my side. “Do you have any damn idea how gorgeous you are?”

Shelby’s eyes widened, and a small smile tilted her lips heavenward. “I’ve been told that a time or two,” she teased. “But I sorta like hearing it from you.”

It was my turn to smile. “Yeah?” I licked my lower lip as I stared into her sparkling eyes. “That’s good for me then because I plan on telling you every day for the rest of my life.”

Stepping back, she gestured for me to come inside. “Getting a little ahead of yourself there, stud muffin. Pretty sure you’ll be sick of me within a week.”

Not a chance in hell.

I climbed the rickety porch steps and stepped inside. The doorframe was small, and I almost had to turn sideways to fit through it. When I moved through the threshold, the smell of food cooking hit me square in the gut. “Damn, baby,” I moaned. “Something smells good.”

Walking into the tiny kitchen that bordered the small but spotless living area, she looked over her shoulder and tossed another heart-stopping smile my way. “I wasn’t sure what you like to eat so I went with one of my favorites.” She winked as she pulled the oven door open and peeked inside. “Promise you’ll love it though.”

I didn't doubt that.

Holding out the pink bakery box that I held in my left hand, I moved into the kitchen and placed it on the small, wooden two-person dinette set that sat perched below a tiny window. “I was going to bring you flowers, but something told me you weren’t a flower kind of girl.” Pointing at the box, I continued, “So I brought dessert instead.”

Shelby’s entire face lit up. “Smart move, bringing dessert. I may be a girl, but I like to eat. Course, all it takes is one look at my butt to see that.” She chuckled and moved over to stand beside me. Flipping open the box she looked down at the contents. “Oh good Lord!” She squealed, throwing her hands up in the air. “You brought red velvet cake!” My chest warmed at her excitement. “That’s my favorite!” Turning to face me, she smacked me on the chest playfully. “Good job, Detective Moretti. You just scored a handful of bonus points.”

She turned around and walked to the fridge. Opening it, she pulled out a pitcher of tea and sat it on the counter. “Yeah?” I asked, my eyes never deviating from her. “And what can I do with those bonus points?”

Pulling down two glasses from the cabinet, she placed them on the worn countertop before filling them with tea from the pitcher. Then she shrugged. “Who knows? Maybe if you score enough, I’ll make you dinner again.” Her shoulders seemed to tense at her words. “That’s if you want me to. I mean—”

“Shelby”—I cut her off—“you can make me dinner anytime you want. Though after tonight I’d like for you to let me reciprocate.”

She set the pitcher back down with a clunk. Turning around, she looked at me with narrowed eyes. “What do you mean?”

It was my turn to smile. “You cooked dinner tonight. Let me handle it tomorrow night.”

Her brows rose, and her eyes widened in shock. “Seriously?” She paused. “You cook?”

“Not really,” I replied honestly. “Only thing I can cook is homemade pizza, but I can order takeout like a boss.”

Smirking, she handed me a glass of tea. “At least you admit it. Besides, pizza happens to be one of my favorite foods, though I’ve never had homemade. My experience is limited to Pizza Hut and whatever is on sale in the freezer section at the grocery store.”

I opened my mouth to speak but stopped short when Lucca toddled into the kitchen. It was obvious he’d just woken up from a nap. His eyelids were still heavy, and indention marks made by a pillow or blanket marred the right side of his face. “Ma-ma!” He ran to Shelby, his arms outstretched, wanting her to pick him up.

Her entire face lit up at the sight. “Hey, little man.” She scooped him up and kissed the top of his head before propping him on her left hip. Her eyes met mine. “His sleep schedule is all screwed up because of what happened the other night. He doesn’t normally nap this late, but I don’t have the heart to keep him awake when he’s so tired.” She scrunched up her nose and looked back down at Lucca. “Though I’ll probably pay for it tonight when he doesn’t go to bed until midnight.”

Lucca looked over at me before popping a thumb into his mouth.

Damn, he has got to be the cutest kid I’ve ever seen.

Bouncing him up and down on her hip to get his attention, Shelby pointed at me. “We’ve got a guest for supper tonight, little man, so I expect you to be on your best behavior.” She rocked her hips back and forth, swaying Lucca from side to side. “That’s Anthony. He’s one of Mama’s friends.” She took a step closer to me. Then another. “Can you say hi?”

He didn’t speak; didn’t babble. In fact, he didn’t mumble a single syllable.

Shelby looked up at me and offered a small smile. “He’s wary of strangers. The only people he—”

Removing his thumb from his mouth, Lucca reached for me, cutting off Shelby’s words instantly. Startled, she gasped and froze in place. Looking down at her son with bulging eyes, her mouth fell open. “Holy crap,” she said, her gaze bouncing between Lucca and me. “He never…”

I didn’t hesitate in reaching for him.

Moving forward, I slid my hands under Lucca’s armpits and lifted him out of Shelby’s hold. Setting his butt in the crook of my arm, I placed my free hand on the middle of his back to hold him steady; I damn sure didn’t want to drop him.

I expected holding him for the first time to feel awkward, but it didn’t. It felt natural, like it was something I was meant to do.

“Hey dude,” I said, looking into his dark brown eyes. “Your Mama was nice enough to invite me over for dinner so I brought you both dessert.” He still didn’t speak, didn’t smile. He may have been a baby, but I swear to Christ it felt like he was sizing me up.

Smart kid.

“Hope you like cake, piccolo principe.”

“What’s that mean? You’ve called him that twice now,” Shelby interjected, a look of curiosity etched on her face.

Pulling out a chair from the dinette, I sat down and placed Lucca on my lap. “It’s Italian for little prince.” A memory from my childhood rushed forward. “It’s what my mother used to call me.”

“Used to?”

I hesitantly nodded. “Yeah.” I pulled Lucca closer to me. “Both my parents are gone. They died the day after I graduated from high school.”

Shelby sucked in a startled breath. “Oh God,” she whispered regretfully, “I’m so sorry, Anthony. I didn’t mean…”

I looked up, and my eyes met her pain-filled ones. “I know, sweetheart.” My chest ached at the memory of losing them, but I wouldn’t let her know that. The last thing I wanted was for her to feel guilty and shut down. “It’s alright. I made peace with what happened to them a long time ago. Besides, a lot of years have passed. It doesn’t hurt as much as it used to.”

Shelby pulled out the chair beside me, sat down and quirked her head to the side. “How many years?” She placed her elbow on the table and rested her cheek on the palm of her hand. “What I’m asking is how old are you? You don’t look old enough to be a detective.”

If I had a dollar for every time someone said that I’d be able to retire.

I smirked. “Take a guess. How old do you think I am?”

She studied me intently for a minute or so before answering. “Twenty-six?”

I chuckled. “Not even close.”

She smacked my arm playfully. “Well, are you going to tell me or am I going to have to wrestle you to the ground and steal your wallet so I can check your driver’s license?”

The words left my mouth before I had a chance to stop them. “If you want to wrestle with me, baby, I’m all for it, but it won’t be my wallet you’re grabbing.”

Shelby’s mouth fell open, and panic hit me square in the chest.

Damn it! Now she’s going to tell me to leave.

Fuck, Moretti! What the hell were you thinking?

I didn’t move, didn’t blink.

Hell, I don’t even think I took a single breath as I waited for her to explode.

Reaching over, she pinched my side. I flinched but didn’t say anything. I was too busy praying she wasn’t about to rip Lucca from my arms and boot my ass out the door. “You can’t be saying stuff like that in front of the baby, Tony!”

Tony?

“You just called me Tony.” She shrugged like it was no big deal. “Nobody has ever called me that but you.” Her gaze dropped to the table as she slid her perfectly manicured fingers back and forth across the chipped wood. “You have no idea what that does to me, sunshine.”

The oven timer began to beep.

Beep, beep, beep.

Rolling her eyes to hide the smile she was fighting back, she stood up from her chair and walked over to the stove. After sliding on a pair of hideous oven mitts that had seen better days, she opened the stove and pulled something out.

What that something was I didn’t have a fucking clue.

I was too busy staring at her ass to watch what her hands were doing.

Fuck me. Having an ass that perfect should be illegal.

“Tony,” she said, still facing away from me, “I can feel your eyes on my butt.” She paused. “I know it’s nice and all but you’ve gotta quit staring. It makes my belly feel funny.”

Holding Lucca close, I turned my head to the side and laughed.