Chapter Fourteen
Mia
“Ouch!”
Mateo leans across the bed, slinging one arm over my waist and peeking at the baby on my chest. “Is he trying to eat you again?”
I blink, looking at the angry red spot on my skin. “Your son just gave me a hickey.”
Grimacing, Mateo rests his head on my tummy and reaches out to catch Roman’s tiny hand. “That’s one of the last things I ever wanted to hear my wife say.”
I roll my eyes, lightly shoving his arm. “Don’t be gross. Baby hickeys are fine.”
Roman’s little hand closes around Mateo’s finger and he does his best to lift it to his face so he can eat that, too. “He’s an insatiable little monster, isn’t he?” Mateo remarks.
I lift an eyebrow at him. “We’ve already covered that he’s a mini-Mateo.”
“God, I hope not,” he replies.
Even though he’s at least partially joking, he’s partially not, too. That pinches my heart.
I run my hand down his bare side until I hit sweatpants. Ordinarily, we don’t bother wearing clothing to bed, but since we have a little guest tonight, I’m in my satin robe and Mateo threw on sweats. The newest Morelli is in a super adorable wrap-front bodysuit. Even in the smallest size, his tiny body is swimming in the soft, striped material. His little legs are on the skinny side, and don’t get me started on the adorable wonder of his tiny feet and toes. I just want to snuggle and kiss him forever.
I also want to snuggle and kiss his father, though, and now that I’ve given him the meager encouragement of touching his side, Mateo prowls up closer. Awareness ripples through me and pleasure blooms in my chest as he leans in and brushes his lips across mine. He nibbles on my bottom lip, then leaves soft kisses at the corner of my mouth before murmuring, “We should have Ju take him for the rest of the night.”
I lean back, eyes widening in mild horror. “What? It’s his first night as a person. We can’t send him with the nanny.”
“I mean, we could. That’s why I have a nanny.”
“He wants to cuddle with us,” I inform him.
“Oh, does he?” Mateo asks, peering over at the baby snuggled against my arm.
I nod my head. “He told me.”
This causes Mateo to smirk. “You weren’t kidding about those impressive vocal chords.”
“He’s a boy wonder,” I state, nodding solemnly. I release my husband to put my hands under Roman’s arms and pull him up, handing him off to his daddy.
Given no other option, Mateo takes the baby. He rolls over on his back and puts Roman on his chest, his brown eyes taking in the wiggly little human on top of him. “Hey, you. How’s being alive?”
“He says it’s pretty good,” I provide.
Mateo slants me a look of amusement. “Funny, I didn’t hear anything.”
“He only speaks to me. I’m a baby whisperer. I should’ve told you.”
“Well, he is a male Morelli, so I’m not surprised he already loves you,” Mateo remarks, dryly.
I snuggle up against him so I can touch Roman’s little arm and my husband all at once. “When Casey was born, my mom had a brief bout of postpartum depression. It only lasted a few months, but it felt like a year. Anyway, my mom stayed in bed for a month, then she had to go back to work, and by the time she got home, she was zapped. So Casey started to think of me as her mom, I think. I was the one who did everything for her, I was the one who fed her, snuggled her to sleep, lulled her with round after round of Twinkle Twinkle Little Star… The only problem was, it started to interfere with my grades. I would show up at school exhausted, having been up until 2 or 3am with the baby. I forgot to turn in a book report, couldn’t focus on a test, almost fell asleep in class. At one point I was so overtired I started crying over answering a question wrong. My mom tried to take over at night so I could at least get some sleep, but Casey wouldn’t have it. I would go to bed and try to let her handle it, but Casey would scream and scream and scream until I came back and held her myself.” I pause, recalling one night toward the end, lying in the floor with my mom on the couch, holding Casey’s hand while my mom held her so she knew I was there.
Roman dips unsteadily in my direction, like he’s interested in the story—or more likely, trying again to get milk out of my useless breasts.
“Anyway, my point was, Casey isn’t a Morelli or a boy, so I think I’m just a baby whisperer in general.”
Mateo smiles tenderly, reaching over and grabbing my hand, lifting it to his lips for a kiss. “Maybe that’s why you do so well with the lot of us. Maybe we’re just big, asshole babies.”
I laugh at that, as well as the mental image of Rafe, Adrian and Mateo as babies, trying to kill each other over the same toy. “Raising baby Morellis is going to be fun. I’m excited that we’re adding boys to the mix.”
“Oh yes,” Mateo answers, dryly. “Me too.”
“I’m going to teach them all about women’s rights.”
Mateo snorts as Roman makes a little more progress on his quest to my boobs. “I think this one’s going to be a star pupil.”
“I’ll use Rosalie’s Barbies and act out workshops. If Ken wants to give Barbie a kiss but she tells him no thanks, what should Ken do?”
Mateo pretends to consider, rubbing his jaw and everything. “Kidnap her, buy her presents, and eventually kiss her anyway?”
I shake my head. “Nope.”
“Sabotage her relationship with the guy she likes better until she says yes?”
“Definitely not.”
“How old is Barbie? Buy her from her parents—who am I kidding? If she’s hanging out with Ken, she only has one parent—and make her entirely dependent upon his good will.”
I shake my head. “That’s terrible. Ken is terrible.”
“Are we sure the answer isn’t kidnapping? Ken has a dungeon. He can wait her out.”
Roman is halfway off Mateo now, so I pick him up before he falls and settle him on my tummy. “Daddy’s going to teach you lots of things, but not this crap.”
Mateo shrugs unapologetically. “It works. My Ken is more effective than yours. Your lame Ken is just going to walk away, kicking rocks and not getting the girl. Mine is going to get the girl.”
“Yours is going to get thrown in jail,” I inform him.
“No,” he answers, shaking his head confidently. “I should have prefaced this scenario with the explanation that my Ken is the head of a criminal organization; he has a solid staff and he pays off cops, so he can do pretty much whatever the hell he wants.”
“That’s not the point. I’m going to teach him about the ethical response, not just... what he can get away with.”
“This sounds boring,” Mateo states. He gives Roman his finger to gnaw on to distract him from the lack of milk in his intended target. “Just nod and smile when she tries to feed you all this garbage; I’ll teach you what you need to know in life.”
I shake my head, grabbing Roman’s toy from the bed beside me. “Here, play with your elephant and ignore Daddy’s bad advice.”
We snuggle, play, and joke about all the terrible life lessons Mateo is going to impart on our young son for a little bit longer before there’s a knock at the door.
I dread the knock. It’s a firm, hard knock, so it’s not Rosalie. That means it must be Adrian, and if Adrian is coming to the bedroom, he’s here to talk to Mateo about Meg.
We’ve managed to avoid talking about Meg since we left her in the guest room to get some sleep. As exciting as it is that Roman is here now, everyone knows I’m anxious about what it means for Meg. Tonight she just wants to sleep, and after weeks in the dungeon, Mateo’s one act of mercy is letting her sleep in a bed tonight.
Tomorrow is another story. No one knows what tomorrow might bring.
Well, I guess Mateo does, but I don’t.
“Come in,” Mateo calls, too comfortable to bother getting up.
The door opens. I’m wrapped up in Roman, but when I casually glance over to say hi to Adrian, it isn’t Adrian at all—it’s Rafe. And Rosalie? I frown, thoroughly confused as Rosalie reaches up and grabs Rafe’s hand, dragging him into the room behind her.
Oh, come on.
“I wanna see my new brother,” Rosalie announces. “I know he’s in here.”
I narrow my eyes at Rafe accusingly. It’s just like him to barge in at the behest of our three-year-old. He knows men with babies and little kids are adorable! “Why are you with my daughter?”
His eyebrows rise, somewhat defensively. “I was kidnapped—again!”
Mateo was ready to stay on the bed and relax when we both assumed Adrian was coming inside, but seeing it’s Rafe, he climbs off. Rosalie is now waiting to be lifted up anyway, so he gives her a boost and she climbs across the bed to come inspect the baby.
“He’s small. Does he even know how to play?” she asks, grabbing the elephant from me and shaking it in Roman’s face.
“You were just as small once,” I inform her. “What were you and Rafe doing?”
“Playing.”
She immediately tries to ruffle Roman’s hair, but I catch her hand and guide it away from his head. “We can’t touch his head. He has a soft spot up here.”
Rosalie sits on her butt and sighs. “Nobody wants to play today.” Looking back at Rafe, she tells him, “After I play babies, we can play more.”
“I don’t think so,” Mateo says. “It’s just about your bed time. Playtime is over for today. You’ll have to kidnap Rafe again tomorrow.”
“What were you guys playing?” I ask.
“I taked him to Paris.”
“By force,” Rafe adds. Then, glancing at Mateo, he says, “You’ve let a rogue strain into your blood line; I hope you realize that.”
Mateo shakes his head, unsympathetic. “If you let yourself get kidnapped by a woman, that’s on you. I would never let that happen to me.”
“I would never try to kidnap either one of you,” I add, helpfully.
Rafe points at me like I’ve proven his point. “Exactly. She’s a keeper.”
Rosalie dangles the elephant in front of Roman’s face again. He tries hard to focus his attention on it, but she’s moving it too fast.
“Did you kidnap Rafe?” I ask her.
“No,” she assures me, shaking her little head. “He wanted to go. He just didn’t know he wanted to go.”
Mateo’s arms are crossed, but at Rosalie’s pronouncement, he shrugs and regards Rafe. “That sounds like a solid explanation to me.”
Rosalie scoots down on her tummy, so I put Roman on the bed and let her get a better look. “Hi baby,” she says. “I’m your sister. You wanna play with me?”
I nod my agreement, addressing Rafe with mild disbelief. “Look at this little angel. She couldn’t possibly kidnap anyone, let alone a big, strong man like yourself.”
“We had cookies,” Rosalie announces. “I want another cookie for my brother.”
“You had cookies right before bedtime?” Mateo asks, cutting a look at Rafe.
Rafe shrugs. “You get what you get when you make a bachelor babysit. You’re lucky I didn’t pour some cognac into a bottle and give her that.”
Rosalie looks up at him and scowls. “I don’t drink bottles! I not a baby!”
“Yeah,” Mateo agrees. “She drinks her cognac from a sippy cup. Jesus, Rafe, you don’t know anything about kids.”
“We drinked tea,” she tells me more calmly, sticking her pinky out to illustrate.
“Where was Ju when this alleged kidnapping took place?” Mateo asks.
“She was an accomplice. Watched it happen, didn’t lift a finger to help.” Rafe shakes his head, apparently disappointed in the wonton women we allow at Morelli mansion these days.
“In fairness, she probably figured you could handle yourself against a three-year-old,” Mateo points out.
“I never can either,” I tell Rafe, to make him feel better.
Strangely enough, it doesn’t seem to.
“Soft Minnie had tea, too,” Rosalie adds. “I should’ve bringed soft Minnie for my brother to play with.”
Rafe shakes his head. “I need to get out of these domestic crosshairs and go back home.” On that note, his gaze drifts to Mateo. “Can we step out for a minute?”
“Actually, Mia, why don’t you do the bedtime story tonight and I’ll stay in here and talk to Rafe,” Mateo suggests.
I look at Roman on the bed, his little eyes darting around, taking in all the new sights. “You want me to leave him here?”
“Sure.”
“But… he could fall off the bed.”
Mateo rolls his eyes. “He won’t fall off the bed.”
“It would be like falling off a mountain. He’s so tiny.”
Sighing heavily, he comes over and scoops up the newborn, cradling him against his chest. “Better?”
I sigh dreamily, taking in the sight. “So much better.”