9. Carmine
Carmine
My entire life, I’ve never had to wait for anything. Whatever I’ve wanted, I’ve always gotten. Some would say I’m spoiled or entitled in that respect. Patience is not my strong suit; something I’m learning will serve me well if I just embrace it.
After driving Noa and the kids home last night, she refused to let me come up to her apartment, insisting she just wanted to get everyone settled, then sleep. Witnessing her level of fatigue, I let it go. She didn’t need me to be one more thing putting pressure on her.
Now, I’m sitting in the waiting room of her ob-gyn because I want to be here for her.
I’ve missed enough of this pregnancy already, and I don’t intend to let that continue.
Her appointment is in a few minutes, and I keep an eye on the entrance until she walks in, looking more tired than when I’d left her the evening before.
She’s makeup-free, her hair in a messy braid, wearing a baggy sweater and black leggings. It appears as if she just crawled out of bed, but she’s never been more beautiful to me. The woman is sex on legs, having no idea the appeal she holds for me.
I stand, walk to her side, and take her bag while she checks in with reception.
“Carmine, I didn’t expect you,” she says, despite my telling her I was interested in coming with her. I have questions about this exhaustion she feels and the pain she was in last night.
“I told you I wanted to be involved, mama.” Escorting her to a chair, I don’t miss the wince as she sits. “I want a hell of a lot more, but I don’t think you’ll agree to any of it, so can you humor me today?”
Her name is called before she can respond.
Helping Noa to her feet, we follow the nurse back. I’d half expected her to tell me to wait until she was done, but the fact that she’s holding me so tightly indicates that she needs the support but refuses to ask for it.
“Dr. Green will be a few minutes,” the nurse says after taking Noa’s vitals and making a few notes in her chart.
Staring at Noa, I can see her mind working. The questions turn over in her eyes before she finally speaks. “What more do you want?” Her gaze drops with uncertainty.
“Everything,” I respond. Laying it all out for her would take more time than we have right now. The one word should just about cover it all.
“That’s a lot.”
“It could be. I want us to work, Noa.”
“You already had the great love of your life.”
Ah, haunted by my own words.
“Who says I can’t have two?”
Do I love Noa?
Sitting back, I allow my feelings for her to flow through me and realize that it’s more than love.
Being nothing if not honest with myself, my feelings for Noa were immediate and strong.
It’s why I pushed her away—fear of losing her the way I did Juliette.
The loss of my first wife was devastating; losing Noa would be catastrophic.
“I suppose that can be true.” She chews her lip, looking everywhere but at me. I won’t push her right now, but soon, she’ll need to make some decisions about us. “But I have the kids to worry about, too. I can’t just go jumping into things.”
“I wouldn’t ask you to. I’d much rather you be cautious and make sure they’re as happy as you are, but Noa, mama…” I lean forward in my chair, placing my hands on her thighs and holding her stare. “I want them too.”
She sucks in a sharp breath just as there’s a knock on the door.
“Oh, hello! Noa, it’s good to see you. Is everything alright?” The doctor’s gaze moves between us, questioning.
“Dr. Green, this is Carmine, the baby’s father.”
Shaking the woman’s hand, I can see she’s skeptical of my appearance.
“Nice to meet you,” I say, and she gets right into the appointment.
We talk about the pain she’s been in, her exhaustion, the results of her last blood work and ultrasound, and fortunately, everything appears great.
She’s given orders to rest more and look into a softer mattress to help with the joint pain.
The best part is listening to the baby’s heartbeat—strong, steady, a damn miracle.
I’d forgotten how amazing it was to hear that magical sound.
“I want to help.” Clasping her elbow, Noa begrudgingly accepts my assistance off the exam table.
“It’s a wise idea to let him help, Noa. Pregnancy can be brutal on a lot of women.” The doctor’s advice makes Noa sigh as she gives in.
“Fine, fine, he can help.”
Noticing her fight a smile lets me know that Noa is starting to see me as more than just the father.
After scheduling the next appointment, we take a casual walk outside. It’s an unexpectedly warm day for the time of year, especially since a snowstorm is predicted in the next few days.
“I can tell you’re thinking about something,” she says as we approach her car.
I crack my neck side to side, preparing for battle. “I am, but you’re probably going to protest.” She raises a perfectly groomed eyebrow at that. “I want you and the kids to move in with me.” Her jaw drops. Not what she expected.
“At most, I thought you were going to demand buying me a new bed,” she mutters, her words both incredulous and optimistic.
“I didn’t see the point when my ultimate end goal is to have all four of you under my roof.” That earns me a huffed breath. “Whatever argument you try to come up with, I’ll counteroffer until you agree.”
She seems to think about it before responding. “I have eight months left on our lease.”
“Leave that to me to worry about.” I’ll pay the entire thing off if necessary.
“I want to pay our way.” Her arms cross defensively.
“If you tell me more about their father and what’s happened with him.” Being left in the dark is challenging, knowing he’s a presence in their lives.
She mutters something I don’t catch, then says, “He’s behind bars.” Her jaw clenches, and from the shifty way she avoids my gaze, I realize there’s more to what she’s not telling me. “He’s not normally in our lives. What happened was a freak occurrence.”
“You have some sort of protective order against him?” She nods. “How long does he get for breaking it?”
“I don’t know. A few months, maybe?” I can tell she’s uncomfortable, so I drop the rest of the questions for now.
“Do you have to go back to work?” I ask, disliking the idea of her not resting, but I’ll have to pick my battles wisely with my beautiful, stubborn, deeply independent woman.
“Yes, but I’m solely in the office today, so it shouldn’t be too bad.”
Growling my frustration, her face softens.
“I’d prefer you come home and spend the day relaxing and doing some online shopping to decorate the kids’ bedrooms.” She looks at me, shocked again.
“Why are you doing this, Carmine? You’ve done the whole children thing already. Why would you want to do it again?”
“Because I want you and our baby. They’re great kids, and it's easy to love them. Even if Joey doesn’t like me.”
“He doesn’t trust men.” Her sad expression is evidence of what they’ve been through because of this man.
“We have plenty of time for him to learn that he can count on me. It’ll be on his timeline.” I can’t chance their disapproval. Noa will always do what’s best for them, and living without her is not possible. Not any longer than I already have. “Can I drop you off at work?”
“What about my car?”
“If you give me the keys, I’ll have Dylan come get it and bring it home.”
“I have to pick up the kids after I get off.”
“We’ll do it together.” She needs to understand she can rely on me. Assume that I’ll do whatever she or the kids need without thought. “If you give me your house keys, I can go over there and start packing things up. Get movers scheduled so all you have to do is direct traffic.”
Chewing on the inside of her mouth, she winces and holds her side. “I’m okay…. Yeah, I guess that’ll be fine.”
Unlocking her car door, she grabs a larger bag from the backseat, locks it again, and hands me the keys, explaining which are for the lobby door and which are for the apartment.
Once she’s tucked into my SUV, I text Dylan to gather some men to help me pack up her place and then hire a moving company.
When he’s told to meet me at her building to get her car keys, he huffs about it, but he’ll do it.
“You don’t have to walk me in,” Noa protests as I help her out of the vehicle and follow her up the steps and into the school. “I’m fine, Carmine.” The secret smile she tries to hide tells me she enjoys the attention, though.
When she’s seated inside, I pull her closer in her chair as I lean down, pressing my lips to hers, while saying, “I know you’re fine, mama, but I’m going to do it anyway.”
Sealing our mouths together, she’s surprised into a gasp that provides me deeper access. She tastes like honey and cinnamon. Addicting and delicious. I intensify the kiss, forging on until she lets out a little moan and reaches up to grab the front of my shirt, pulling me closer.
Ignoring the presence I sense behind me, I say, “To be clear, my room is our room, and from tonight forward, you’re in bed with me.
” When she tries to protest, I press my lips to hers again and whisper, “We won’t do anything you don’t want, but I get the pleasure of holding you against me every night from now on. ”
Letting out a breathy sigh, she shocks me when she agrees. “Yes, Carmine. I think I might like that.”
Standing straight, I rub my thumb along her moistened lip, and her tongue trails after it. “I’ll be here at three.”