Chapter Thirty Three #3
“You held on just a moment longer,” I say.
He laughs.
“Very well. But you did not fight it.”
“I was being polite.”
“You were looking at my mouth.”
My cheeks heat despite everything. “That is an entirely different conversation.”
His smile widens into a grin. A bit of a smug one.
It stirs something deep in me.
“Yes,” he says. “And one I wouldn’t mind having.”
A laugh breaks out of me before I can stop it.
The fire shifts in the hearth, and we go quiet.
I look at him, at this impossible man sitting on the edge of a guest bed, giving me the truth because I asked for it, even after I had questioned the worst possible thing about him.
“This whole thing scares me,” I say.
“Me too.”
“I don’t know how to do this.”
“Neither do I.”
That surprises a breath out of me.
“We barely know each other,” I say.
“No.”
“And I’m pregnant.”
“Yes.”
“And people tried to kill me yesterday.”
His eyes darken. “That won’t happen again.”
“No one will try to kill me again?”
“No one will get that close again,” he corrects.
“Oh. Okay. Wonderful.” I swallow. “Your life scares me.”
“I know.”
I let out a shaking breath. “This is a terrible foundation.”
“It is not ideal.”
A laugh escapes me.
His gaze drops to my mouth, then returns to my eyes.
“The child makes us responsible to each other,” he says. “But it is not why I want you.”
The laugh fades.
“It's not why I want you either.”
“A shaky foundation is not a life sentence,” he says. “It can be fixed and strengthened.”
“How?” I ask.
“Well, first… you eat.”
I stare at him.
He looks far too pleased with himself.
“That cannot possibly be your answer to everything.”
“It has worked well for my family for generations.”
“Mario.”
“And many other Italian families as well.” His mouth curves. “You asked where we start. We start with breakfast.”
“You are impossible.”
“Yes.”
“You're not even going to deny it?”
“We just spent the whole morning talking about honesty.”
I shove at his chest and barely move him an inch. “Get out,” I laugh.
He grins. “I don't think you want that.”
“I do.”
“What happened to honesty?”
“Screw honesty,” I say, but I’m laughing.
I try pushing him again. I just end up pushing myself back against the headboard.
“Careful,” he says, one hand on my hip.
“I was until I met you.”
His eyes are laughing when his mouth covers mine.
The kiss is breathless, giggly, and a little messy. I reach for his shirt because I need something to hold on to, and he lets me pull him closer.
For a moment, there is no terrible foundation beneath us. No shaky beginning, or murder attempt, or fear.
There is only his mouth, warm and smiling against mine, and the strange, fragile relief of laughing when I thought I had forgotten how.
The kiss goes on for a while, and I wish it could last forever, but there’s a reality we both have to face.
We break the kiss, and he presses his forehead to mine.
“Who else knows about the baby?” I whisper.
He inhales. “Well, Ricardo and Matteo found the pregnancy search on your laptop.”
“Oh.”
“So, naturally… everyone knows.”
I pull back enough to stare at him.
“Everyone?”
“Not the whole city,” he clarifies.
“Oh, my God.”
His mouth curves. “That was eerily similar to everyone’s reaction.”
I blink.
Then, despite everything, I laugh again.
Mario glances toward the door.
I follow the look, and my stomach dips again.
“What?”
His mouth curves faintly. “Are you ready to go downstairs?”
“Downstairs?” I squeak.
“My sons are very eager to officially meet you.”
“Oh, God.”
“You do not have to be afraid of them.”
“I’m not afraid of them.” I pause. “Okay, that was a lie. We're not off to a good start here.”
His mouth curves. “A troubling collapse of principle.”
“I know. I had one good minute of honesty, and now look at me. A cliché.”
“I knew what I was getting into when I got involved with a lawyer.”
“At least you know.”
“You are allowed to be nervous.”
“Oh, good, because I am.” I blow out a breath. “Maybe a little nauseous too.”
“It's because you haven't eaten,” he declares and takes my hand to start dragging me out of bed.
“Mario,” I squeal. “You have a terrible bedside manner.”
“I am not your doctor.” He grins wickedly. “But we can play doctor later.”
I yelp when he yanks me out of bed and into his arms.
“You can't say that to me right before I meet your sons. That is not fair.”
“I don't play fair,” he says. “You'll get used to it.”
Before I can think of a good response, he catches my lips with his.
Then his hand slides to my ass, and he pulls me hard against him.
The kiss is a quick, filthy one that has me clinging to him and moaning.
When he lifts his head, I'm flushed and breathing a little hard.
"You monster," I groan.
"I think you like it."
"That is beside the point."
He kisses me once more, and his expression grows serious.
“Victoria.”
“Mario,” I say quietly.
“I may not have all the answers,” he says. “I may not know where we stand just yet or where we’ll end up.”
I stare into his deep, dark eyes. “Neither do I.”
“But I really want to find out,” he continues.
“So do I.”
And for right now, it’s enough.