10. Summer #2
Both men were clad in those sinfully sexy suits, indicating they’d come straight from the office. It was a good thing I was already sitting down because the sight alone was enough to make my knees weak.
Shucking his suit jacket and rolling up his shirtsleeves to reveal thickly corded forearms, Matteo eyed the carnage on the kitchen table. “What’s all this?”
“It’s pasketti!” Bianca yelled.
A smile touched his plush lips at his daughter’s youthful mispronunciation.
Enzo dropped onto a chair. “So what’s the deal? We just eat off the table?”
My cheeks heated. “Oh, you don’t have to. I can—”
“And miss out on all the fun? No way.” Immediately, he dug in, moaning as he began to chew. “So good. Matteo, you gotta get in on this.”
“In a minute,” Matteo replied, his footsteps retreating from the table.
My attention was so focused on the kids that I was startled when curved glass was pressed into my hand. The tiniest gasp flew past my lips before I realized Matteo had poured me a glass of red wine.
The gesture was so domestic, not something you’d expect to see between a boss and his employee.
Staring up at where he loomed above me, I swallowed involuntarily when I saw the intensity in his dark brown eyes. Voice breathy, I managed to say, “Thank you.”
He dipped his chin. “Long day?”
“No, I wouldn’t say that.”
Matteo took the seat on the other side of Serafina, and his gaze swept over his daughters before returning to meet mine. “Girls behaving for you?”
“They’ve been amazing. Bianca’s been my little sidekick all week, and Serafina is so mellow. They make this job easy.”
His husky chuckle made my toes curl. “Not sure any of those who came before you would agree.”
While I’d been witness to my predecessor’s resignation after Bianca bit her, I hadn’t seen an ounce of aggression from the little girl in the past week.
Shrugging, I replied, “Maybe the timing was right after all they’ve been through.”
Matteo leaned a forearm on the table. “Maybe it’s you.”
My breath caught in my throat. There was an implication that not only was I special to the girls, but that I was special to him .
But that couldn’t be right, could it? We barely knew each other.
Sure, there was an attraction swirling in the air, and every time he walked into a room, my heart began beating faster, but that would fade once I got used to his presence.
It had to. I worked for him. His daughters needed me, and I was only here to work off the student loan debt he’d paid without my asking.
In less than sixteen months, I would walk away from this family and never look back as I moved on with my life.
This period in time would become nothing more than a blip, a story I told my grandkids one day about how I found myself living inside the home of a bona fide mafia boss.
“Where’s my wine?”
Enzo’s voice had me breaking eye contact with his cousin and busying myself cutting up more spaghetti for Serafina.
Matteo’s voice carried an edge of annoyance. “You know damn well where to find it if you want some.”
A tsk sounded. “Make sure to remove ‘good host’ from your resume.”
“I’ll do that just as soon as you add ‘ungrateful mooch’ to yours.”
“Ouch.” Enzo hissed, and I peeked up in time to see him clutch at his chest like that jab actually hurt.
I brought a hand to my mouth in an attempt to stifle my snicker.
Matteo’s piercing gaze turned in my direction. “Amused, dolcezza ?”
For a second, I was stunned speechless. He was sexy as hell when he slipped into Italian, and this was the first time it was aimed in my direction instead of one of the girls.
As soon as I was alone, I would be looking up what he called me.
Dolcezza . It sounded beautiful rolling off his tongue.
A tongue which I grew increasingly curious about, and whether it was skilled beyond uttering those fancy foreign words.
“Summer?” he prompted, and I wondered how long I’d sat there, silent and staring.
Shaking my head as if to clear it, I regained my bearings. “Sorry. I was just thinking that the two of you fight like siblings. Or at least, how I imagine they would since I don’t have any.”
Enzo reclined in his chair with a smirk. “That’s probably because we were raised together like brothers.”
That was new information. “You were?”
He shrugged. “No moms, so our dads figured it was easier to keep us all under the same roof.”
My eyes bulged. “Wait, you didn’t have moms?”
Matteo cut a sharp glare in the direction of his cousin. “Obviously, we had mothers. Kinda hard to exist without them. It’s just that we never knew them, is all.”
“Ah.” I nodded in understanding. “I know what that’s like. Never really had a dad.” Under my breath, I added, “Pretty sure my mom doesn’t know who he is.”
After that, we fell into silence as we ate our dinner, demolishing the pasta piled high in the center of the table.
The girls were a saucy mess by the time we were done, and I declared, “Bath time.”
“Need an extra set of hands?” Matteo offered.
I paused with Serafina halfway lifted out of her highchair. “Uh . . .”
Did I? I mean, I’d bathed the girls every night this week without help, so technically, I could do it myself. But curiosity got the better of me as I began to imagine what it would look like to have a man rumored to be dangerous, violent even, help with bathtime.
Before I could respond, Bianca made the decision for me. “Yes! Please, Papa? I want bubbles!”
Matteo’s lips curved into a devastatingly handsome smile. “Then bubbles you shall have, principessa .”
The little girl jumped out of her chair with a cheer as she took off running for the staircase tucked into the corner of the kitchen.
There was a moment of sheer panic when I watched her sauce-covered hand reach for the railing.
Luckily, Matteo was a pro, calling out, “Freeze!”
Bianca stopped dead in her tracks at her father’s command.
Rising from his seat, he said to me, “I’ll carry her up.”
“Thank you,” I breathed out, relieved that the walls would be saved from a tomato sauce finger painting fiasco.
With zero regard for the white shirt he wore, Matteo pulled his daughter into his arms and propped her onto his hip. I, on the other hand, wasn’t quite so careless with my clothing, holding Serafina away from my body like she was a bomb about to explode.
It was impossible to tear my eyes away from the firm ass in my face as I followed the man who was too hot for his own good up the stairs.
I’d slept with my fair share of fit men. My entire social circle in college was athletes, and competitive swimmers always had their muscles on full display in those skintight suits. But none of them had me practically drooling over their bodies the way Matteo did.
Behind us, Enzo shouted, “Why sure, I’d just love to clean up!”
Matteo peeked backward with a roll of his eyes. “Next time, eat at your own house!”
They really did bicker like brothers. “How do you two get anything done at work?”
Something flashed in Matteo’s eyes when they met mine. “It’s not easy. Especially lately with him being around so much after hours too.”
“Is that because you’re alone with the girls?” I asked. “If so, I think I’ve got it handled going forward.”
A heavy exhale rattled his chest. “The girls are only part of it. You being here helps, but it doesn’t change the fact that my annoying older cousin will be stuck to me like glue for the foreseeable future.”
There was clearly something he was unwilling or unable to tell me, so I didn’t press further.
We stepped into the girls’ shared bathroom, and Matteo set Bianca down to turn on the faucet. He left his hand under the rush of water, testing the temperature. Once he was satisfied, he grabbed a bottle of bubble bath and added a generous amount to the filling tub.
I stripped Serafina out of her diaper and threaded her legs through the infant seat that suctioned to the bottom of the tub. Bianca gathered up an armload of mermaid dolls from the basket in the corner and dumped them into the water before climbing into the water with her baby sister.
Bubbles multiplied quickly, some breaking free to float through the air.
Serafina let out a squeal that echoed off the tiled walls as she slapped at the water.
Bathtime was her favorite and worked like a charm to tucker her out before bed.
Most nights, she barely finished even half of her bottle before she passed out in my arms, so deep in sleep that she didn’t stir when transferred to her crib.
Dropping to my knees, I grabbed the bottle of baby shampoo and poured some into my hands. I worked a lather into Serafina’s hair before trying to wrangle a squirming Bianca to do the same.
Like we’d done this together a million times before, Matteo and I worked in tandem to get the girls clean. While I was on soap duty, he took charge of rinsing the suds away.
If someone were watching from the outside, they might even mistake us for a real family.
Ugh. I was going to blame the preschool pickup gossip squad for that thought. Their speculation about Matteo looking for a new mom for the girls had clearly fucked with my head.
I was their nanny, nothing more. Even if their daddy was downright delicious and was currently the star of my sexual fantasies.
“Play Santa, Papa!” Bianca held up a heaping pile of bubbles.
Matteo twisted his lips to the side and hummed as he considered her request. “I don’t know . . .” he began.
Intrigued, I asked, “How does one play Santa?”
Instead of answering, he turned to his daughter. “Should we show Summer?”
Bianca’s head bobbed. “Yes!”
“All right,” he agreed before turning his intense stare on me. “But this doesn’t leave this room, understand?”
My eyebrows lifted. What in the world was I about to witness?
“Um, okay?”
“Do a pinky promise!” Bianca suggested.
“Actually, that’s not a half-bad idea,” Matteo said. Drying his hands on a towel, he extended one of those giant paws toward me, every finger curled with the exception of his pinky, which was held straight. His voice dropped an octave. “Do you pinky promise, Summer?”
Swallowing, I hooked my pinky with his, and heat curled low in my belly when our skin made contact.
We’d only touched one other time, that day in his office when I somehow wound up accepting a nanny job I wasn’t qualified for.
It had been just as electric then, the tingling sensation lasting long after he’d let go of my wrist.
“I promise.” The words came out barely above a whisper.
He flashed me a panty-melting smile before pulling his hand away, and it took everything in me not to whimper at the loss.
Then there was my traitorous bitch of a vagina, which was throbbing, desperate for his attention.
She was gonna be pissed as hell when it was my touch, and not Matteo’s, easing that ache later tonight.
“Ready, girls?” Matteo addressed his daughters.
“Yes!” Bianca bounced in the bathwater, causing a wave of it to slosh over the side of the tub and soak into the fabric of my jeans where I knelt beside it.
“Here we go.” Scooping up a giant pile of bubbles, he brought them to his face. The suds clung to his jaw, and he shaped them into a long beard.
When both girls burst into giggles at the ridiculous sight, I was a goner. My laughter split the air so suddenly that I clamped a hand over my mouth.
Mirth sparkled in Matteo’s eyes. “Like what you see, dolcezza ?”
Goddamn if my brain didn’t short-circuit when I heard him call me that for a second time tonight. And I still had no clue what it meant!
His hotness must’ve zapped my filter because I reached out to cup the bubbles hanging from his face, and replied, “I think you look very handsome, Mr. Bellini.”
His gaze heated, and my thighs pressed together. I was in soooooo much trouble.
Thankfully, the girls demanded our attention before the sexual tension in the air could grow any thicker, especially since I was seconds away from suffocating on it.
Matteo became the star of the show, playing up the role of everyone’s favorite fictional holiday character. All I could do was sit back and watch the over-the-top silliness he exuded for the sole enjoyment of his daughters.
The whole time, I couldn’t help but wonder how this man was supposed to be the head of a criminal organization, because he wasn’t scary at all.