24. Matteo
24
Matteo
“Relationships are like puzzles. Sometimes they’re fun and sometimes they’re frustrating, but when you find the right piece, everything fits perfectly.” – Unknown
“ A ren’t you supposed to go to work?” Zoe asks me, looking up from the rim of her teacup.
“Eager for me to leave, Beastie?”
“Matteo, I don’t care whether you leave or not. Your presence makes no difference for me personally.”
My mouth curls up into a small smile and I lean into her, whispering, “Little liar.”
“Am not,” Her eyes flare up in an attempt to seem threatening but all it does is just make my pants feel tighter.
Damn that woman and her silly no-kissing rule.
“Then why are you trying to get me out the door so badly?”
“Um, because you need to work, maybe?” She rolls her eyes at me.
“Orrr, it’s because having me here affects you. Makes you want to break down those silly walls you have put around yourself and get down and dirty?”
Zoe has been on a “Move Matteo Out” mission for the past four days since her little bathroom show.
“Definitely not,” she says but her voice is a touch breathy.
“Definitely yes.”
“You think too highly of yourself.”
“Apparently you do too.” I wink at her and watch those rosy cheeks grow pinker. She doesn’t know I was there when she played with herself, coming with my name on her lips. Three times.
Little naughty girl.
And I wasn’t going to bring it up, but my Zoe needs to start admitting these feelings she has, and I am all too eager to help her.
“Trust me, I don’t.”
“That’s not what you said four days ago.” Her eyes snap to mine in a flash, her mouth slightly agape. And biting my lip I go for the kill. “I distinctly remember hearing your praises—three loud, expressive times.”
The cup she’s holding slips out, rattling off the table.
“Y-you…h-how…Matteo! OhmyGod, kill me now.”
She’s so cute when she’s flustered and embarrassed, slapping her palms to her face to cover it from me. And then she gets even cuter and starts talking to herself out loud as if she forgot that I am still here.
“No, you know what? You are not going to be embarrassed by it. So what, you pleasured yourself. It’s normal. Hot.”
“Oh, I happen to agree.” Her hands fall off her face, shooting daggers at me with her big, brown eyes. “It was very hot. I came twice within minutes while listening to you.”
Zoe’s mouth drops open. “No, you didn’t.”
I arch one eyebrow with a smirk on my face. “Want me to prove that I can?”
“That’s not what I meant.” She sucks a deep breath, closing her eyes. “You didn’t think to—I don’t know—maybe give me some privacy?”
“I had that thought for a fleeting second.”
“And what happened to it?”
“I remembered that you are mine and there is no such thing as privacy between us,” I tell her and take a bite of the breakfast croissant.
Zoe shakes her head, pinching the bridge of her nose. “For the love of… Matteo, go to work before I kill you.”
“I can’t.”
“And why the hell not?” She narrows her eyes at me but once again there is nothing threatening there since that blush is still firmly intact on her cheeks.
“That will be a quarter from you.” I point to her. “And I’m on paternity leave.” Those narrowed eyes disappear as she rolls them and sighs.
“Matteo, you are not on a paternity leave, and you’ve already been here for a week. It’s bad enough I’m intimately familiar with your horrible eating habits, I don’t need to know anything else. Go to work.” She points to the front door.
We were having such a great morning with me making her breakfast she moaned over, then having such a lovely conversation about her extracurricular activities in the bathroom while Mellie is sleeping soundly in my arms, but she just had to go and burst my happy bubble.
Tough shit, I have plenty of tape to seal the holes.
“And what is wrong with my eating habits?”
“Nothing apart from being as ridiculous as you.”
“Hmm, I don’t think so.”
“Matteo, just last night you were eating an apple and chasing it with a Coke. When you don’t like apples.”
“What? I really wanted that Coke but it’s bad for you, so I had to add something healthy in there.” Zoe looks at me from underneath her eyebrows. “What? It’s all about the balance.”
“Like I said, ridiculous. But since you are such an advocate of the ‘balance’”—she puts quotation mark around the word—“go to work so you don’t lose it.”
I don’t know why she says it like it has been any kind of hardship for me to be here. I’ve been enjoying every second of these past six days.
“See this baby in my arms?” I reference to Mel. “Paternity leave.”
“Lord give me patience. Matteo, Mellie will be here when you come back. I promise. So, put that baby—my baby—back in her cot and stop being ridiculous. Aren’t you tired of us yet?”
“Tired?” I gasp, press her closer to my chest, looking at Zoe like she’s grown a few heads this morning. “How could I ever tire of my perfect little watermelon or my future wife who puts on a show for me.”
“Jesus Christ. Now he escalated it to a wife,” Zoe sighs. “And that show was not for you.” She shakes her head and takes a sip of her tea but that little blush she’s spotting doesn’t escape my attention. “You are impossible. When are you going to drop that girlfriend—excuse me—wife crap?”
“Crap?” I shriek. “That is a very serious business, Zoe Holsted. I will not have you belittling it.”
“Okay, okay.” She holds her hands up in mock apology. “We can postpone that conversation to when you come back from work.”
And she’s back at it. The truth is my heart aches at the thought of leaving them. “What if she forgets me? Or does something cool while I’m away?”
“Matteo, she’s a month old. The coolest thing she could do is sleep for solid four hours at a time.”
“See? I could totally miss that.” I bulge my eyes out at her because solid four hours of sleep is badass, and I need to be here for it. I need to be here for all of it.
Zoe sighs. “I promise I’ll FaceTime you if that happens, deal?”
“What about the part where she forgets me?” I ask, chewing on the inside of my cheek. Part of me understands how ridiculous I sound but there is this other part that refuses to listen to any logic where Mellie and Zoe are concerned. I want to be with them twenty-four-seven. I want to be the man they rely on. The one they turn to if there is a spider in the house or another silly reason.
I may not have been ready for any of this, but that doesn’t mean I don’t know how. My dad showed me every day how to be a great husband and a dad. In fact, he still is, thirteen years after he passed away.
And maybe I want to stay around and make sure no other fucker comes around to steal my girls.
“She won’t.”
“She might,” I press on.
“Jesus Christ. What do you want me to do? Print out your picture and tape it to my face?”
“That’s an excellent idea.” I snap my fingers, snatching her phone off the table and hold it up to snap a selfie.
“Matteo,” Zoe shrieks and lunges for the phone but it’s too late. “That was just a joke.”
“Where is your printer?”
“You are utterly ridiculous… you know that?”
“Yep. Aren’t you happy you won’t ever be bored in life with me?”
“I’ll settle for sane.”
My mood grows from playful to serious in a flash. I stride over to her, tilting her chin up with my finger. “No, you won’t. You, my beautiful sunshine won’t settle for anything in this life.”
Zoe swallows hard. “Maybe you just don’t understand how life works yet, Matteo.”
“I don’t need to know how it works. I make my own rules.” I send a little smirk her way. “Don’t worry, baby, I’ll share those with you.”
And I would. I’d share anything with this woman. Chocolate, home-brewed beer, my t-shirts, life, bodily fluids—I’m especially interested in that one—and everything in between. Does she want my social security now or later?
But despite me being ready to jump all in, Zoe is hesitant to do the same.
No idea why, really. I’m a catch!
Fine, I’m a shit liar but I will do anything to be the one she gets hooked on and not just for a quick pleasure session in the bathroom.
And that’s why after another two hours of pushing me out the door, I decide to relent and go to work. For a little bit.
Literally, in and out under one hour.
Me: How are my girls?
Me: I miss you both already.
Beastie: Matteo, the door just clicked shut behind you. I can still hear and see you typing on your phone.
Me: You know what? I don’t think I feel all that good, maybe I should skip today.
Beastie: I feel like I am dealing with a child.
Beastie: Oh wait, what am I saying? Of course, I am.
Me: Solid burn, beastie.
Me: Yet I don’t remember you thinking that when I had my tongue deep in your sweet pussy. Or when you fucked it with your fingers thinking of mine.
Me: Do you need a reminder?
There was no reply but when I turned my head around, looking through the window, there was no mistaking the desire in her eyes and my pants felt even tighter walking to work.
“Matty, my boy,” Mom calls out as soon as I step through the door. “How is Mellie and Zoe?”
“They’re great mom.” I give her a hug and a kiss on top of her head. I’m not even that mad she stole my baby that day on the beach. It turned out quite all right, actually.
“But I want to get back to them as soon as possible. So, where do you need me while you have me?”
“Oh, there are a million boxes in the back that came in this morning. I assumed those were the supplies you ordered for your new menu and was going to call you to come sort through them, but here you are.”
Damn it, I totally forgot about that. I squeeze my eyes shut, groaning. This will take way longer than the one hour I was planning to spend here, and I’m already feeling those withdrawal symptoms being away from my girls for so long. But this must be done.
I may only be twenty-three, but I understand responsibly all too well when it comes to our family business. Especially with a free-spirit of a mother who, if given a chance, would serve the whole town for the cost of one smile.
I take out my phone and shoot Zoe a message.
Me: Hey sunshine, unfortunately I’ll be stuck here for a hot minute. So, I’m forwarding you three more pictures to print out and a voice memo you need to play to Mellie every ten minutes at least.
Beastie: So, I just tried to show her one of the pictures, but I don’t think she liked it. See the middle finger she’s showing you right here?
*Attaches a picture of Mellie’s hand in a fist except the middle finger that sticks out.
Me: Damn it, I knew she’s going to do something cool when I’m not there. *crying emoji* Proud papa. *happy tears emoji*
Beastie: Did you just say you are proud of her showing the middle finger? *unimpressed emoji* Only you, Matteo. Only you.
Me: I knew I was growing on you, beastie.
Beastie: In your dreams.
Me: Nah, in my dreams you are bouncing up and down on me, not growing.
After that there are no more messages, but I just happened to know that it’s not because she’s pissed at me like she pretends to be. She’s turned on and trying to hide it.
That’s okay, though; I’m patient. I’ve waited all these months. I’ll wait a few more weeks.