Chapter 11 #2
I mean, yes, he was hot before. Of course. But Nick holding his son?
Holy cow.
Way, way, way hotter.
Eve stopped in her tracks and looked at the priest sitting down. Then she turned to look at us. “Where's Giselle? And Carlo?”
The priest sighed and answered for us, “Gathering more children, I presume.”
I laughed but quickly covered my mouth. Stefan chuckled as he kissed Dani's cheek.
“Sorry we took so long. Angelo woke up Ari.” Eve shrugged. “That's how it always goes. If one's up, so is the other one. It’s amazing that Theo’s still sleeping. For now.”
Giselle walked out right behind Nick. “We know exactly how that is.
Don't we, Marcello?” A baby lay sprawled over her shoulder, and she patted his back as he stretched.
“We've got about ten minutes before these guys start to fuss.” Giselle gave the priest a pointed look.
Carlo stood behind his wife—a baby in his arms, too.
Unsurprisingly, Carlo’s hotness rose a billion degrees while he held one of his sons. Gosh. These men.
With much effort, the priest stood up, leaning heavily on the table. “Very well, then. Let's continue.”
Nick, Eve, Giselle, Carlo—each carrying a baby—followed dutifully behind him.
Everyone took their places like before. Except now there were four babies added to the guest list.
Just as the priest opened his mouth—the baby in Nick's arms started crying. He inserted a pacifier into his mouth. But the baby didn't appreciate that.
And I mean he—really—didn't appreciate that. The baby ripped the pacifier out and chucked it unceremoniously onto the ground.
“Sheesh,” Eve said, deciding to trade babies with her husband. But then the baby she passed over to Nick started crying, too.
“Sorry, they'll quiet down in a second,” Eve said, rhythmically bouncing the baby. Nick patted and bounced and shushed as well. But nothing was working.
Nothing.
Then Giselle's baby started crying. And Carlo's followed suit.
It was one giant cry-fest.
Giselle looked frazzled. Well, they all did, to be truthful. But it was Giselle who finally gave up and said, “I'm sorry, you guys. You'll have to give us ten minutes to feed them. Once they get this angry, there's no going back.”
None of them waited for permission. They all just followed Giselle back into the house. Dani included.
That left me with Stefan. And the priest. He rolled his head from side to side. “False start number two.” Then he wandered back to the table by the house.
Stefan took the flowers from my hands and set them on the ground beside us. Then he grabbed my hands and—just held them. “Are you okay?” The concern in his gaze did funny things to my lower belly. Those butterflies in there doubled. Maybe tripled. And my heart started beating quickly again.
“Do you really want me to answer that?” I looked into his eyes. Eyes that I could quite comfortably fall into.
Daily.
Forever.
His gaze dropped to the ground. “No, I guess not.” He swallowed and said, “Everything's going to be fine. I know you don't believe me. But it will.”
He was right.
I didn't believe him.
Even though his words sounded genuine, and I was more than desperate to believe him—I knew deep down in my soul that everything was not going to be okay. Not at all.
How could it?
I had a madman after me who was going to do who-knows-what if he found me.
My dad had proven himself to be—well, exactly who my dad was.
Again.
And of course, I got caught up in his crap.
Again.
So, no.
I did not believe it when Stefan said that everything was going to be all right. Because it wasn't going to be.
Still—Stefan had stepped up and agreed to marry me in order to save my behind.
And Eve and Giselle had gone all out to get me ready.
Good grief, Giselle even let me wear her wedding dress.
And the men even put on tuxes for goodness sake.
The least I could do was hold my tongue and go along with everything. The very least I could do.
So, instead of arguing with Stefan about how my—next—downfall was imminent—I gave him a small smile and lied, “Okay.”
And then a small vestige of the man I once knew showed itself in his smirk.
Strong or weak.
In pain or not.
Stefan's smirk was the same. And that made my lower belly feel weird.
A good weird, though.
It reminded me of lying in bed with him. His hands on me. And—
“I hate to ask this—” Giselle's voice yelled from the patio doors.
“But would it be okay if I left Nicco with you?
Marcello just projectile vomited all over Nick.
So, he's got to change. Nick, and Marcello, I mean. Actually,” she looked back into the house for a moment, “Nick needs a shower.
And so does Marcello. Carlo and I are trying to clean up. And I've only got two arms—”
Stefan immediately let go of my hands and left me standing at the arch by myself. He quickly strode up to Eve and the baby. I heard her say an emotional, “Thank you,” right before she turned and hurried back to the waiting chaos in the house.
“You get to hang out with us for a while,” he said to the baby in his arms.
And I was wrong.
Nick looked hot carrying a baby.
Carlo, too.
But Stefan was freaking—smoldering with a baby in his arms.
“Did your brother barf all over your uncle Nick? Hmm?” he chuckled and rubbed the baby's back. He walked around the pool, all the while speaking softly and lovingly to his nephew.
Again—I'd never seen anything hotter in my life. When he arrived back at my side with the baby, he said, “Nicco, say hi to your auntie Francesca.” Then he gently lifted one of the baby's hands and waved it at me. The baby giggled, and I laughed.
“Hello,” I said, and touched his chubby little hand.
I wanted to correct Stefan and tell him that I wasn't really the baby's auntie.
But something inside me knew that would bother Stefan.
And that would be kind of crappy of me considering all he and his family were doing for me. So, I shut up and talked to the baby.
Ari seemed to like me well enough. After a few minutes, he held his arms out to me.
I took him as he practically dove. Exactly one second later, he tugged on my veil.
“Whoops.” I touched his hand and said, “Gentle.
Be very careful. Your mommy still has to wear this after me.
We can't go giving this back to her all muddled up now. Can we?”
Amazingly enough, he gazed at me with a rather slobbery grin and stopped his pulling.
“See? Nice.” I let him touch the soft fabric. It gave me a moment to hug him and kiss his sweet face. “Gosh, he's so soft and yummy.” I inhaled deeply and held him close. He really felt—good.
And right.
Like everything in the world suddenly made sense.
“You must've looked after many babies at the hospital,” Stefan stated.
I shook my head and kissed Nicco again. “Just big man-babies,” I said before I realized how that sounded.
Stefan let out a loud, boisterous laugh. It startled Nicco a bit.
“Are you talking about me? Or were there other man-babies?” It was so good to see him laugh. Even under these strange circumstances.
I smiled at him. “Lots of man-babies, Stefan. You weren't the only one.”
That made him laugh again. Even louder this time. “Good to know. Although I'd like to think I was the biggest man-baby you took care of.”
I raised my eyebrows and tilted my head. “You were absolutely my biggest man-baby.”
Stefan could have been angry at what I just said. But it was quite obvious he was in more of a playful mood. And I liked playful Stefan.
A lot.
Playful Stefan was fun. Playful Stefan made me laugh. Unfortunately, playful Stefan hadn't been around all that much at the hospital or in my crappy apartment.
No.
Back then, I mostly had sick, grouchy, in pain Stefan. But whenever playful Stefan did show up, I enjoyed the heck out of him.
He gave me his very best devilish smirk as he raised his hand and touched the outer edge of my jaw with his fingertips.
The gesture was so soft and gentle—yet it also held so much.
“I never got the chance to thank you for looking after my sorry ass.” His eyes drifted down to my lips.
I felt my whole body heat with that one simple caress.
Mostly because I remembered what those hands could do.
I remembered what those fingers could do.
“It was my job, Stefan,” I lied, gazing into his handsome eyes. Eyes that I could surely drown in if given the chance.
“Bullshit,” was all he said before stepping closer to me—so close our bodies nearly touched—and then he leaned down and—
Pow!
Slap!
A chubby little baby hand whacked Stefan across the face. I stepped back and looked at Nicco, surprised at what he'd just done. “Uh, oh,” I said, rubbing his arm. “Baby, we don't hit people. That makes a big ouchie. Be nice to your uncle Stefan, okay?”
Big blue eyes gazed at me innocently. And then—
Bam!
Pow!
He hit me with his other hand.
“Okay, okay, that's enough, Bruiser. Come here.” Stefan took the baby from me. But he immediately began screaming.
The baby. Not Stefan.
The baby wanted to come back to me. He stretched his arms toward me in the cutest manner.
Stefan held firm, though. “No, you can't hit girls.” Stefan grasped the baby's pudgy, lethal weapons in his own hands.
“That doesn't fly around here, buddy. You need to apologize to your auntie Francesca,” Stefan spoke sternly to the baby. Not mean, or angry. But firm.
“Give your auntie a hug. Be nice. Okay?” he instructed the little one. Then he let go of his hands and allowed him to stretch toward me.
I grabbed him back—and the baby immediately started crying, hanging onto me tightly.
It broke my heart. “Aww, it's okay. Shh,” I said, bouncing him around slowly as I patted his back. “You're okay. I'm okay. Shh,” I whispered against his sweet, soft cheek. I kissed it because—it was just right there. And he was so distraught. And baby cheeks were surprisingly cute.