Sinning in Vegas (Vegas Morellis 2)

It takes him seven minutes, and by the time Sin appears soundlessly in the living room, I am crying almost as hard as Skylar is.

Without a word, he walks over and takes the noisy baby from me, glancing down at the mess on the floor. I am kneeling, but there is nothing sexy about it. I draw in a shuddering breath, embarrassed by my own failure. I’m certain now he will see that I am not good at motherhood, and he will immensely regret encouraging me to have a baby.

As if the screaming child does not bother him in the least, he tells me, “Go get yourself cleaned up. Take your time. Take a shower. I’ve got this.”

“She’s possessed,” I inform him, scrubbing at the tears on my face.

Sin cracks a smile. “Just go take a shower and calm down. When you come back, the mess will be gone and hopefully I’ll have exorcised her.”

Shaking my head, not getting up off the floor, I tell him, “I’m not good at this. Is this what it’s going to be like?”

“No,” he says, firmly. “You will have plenty of time to adjust to your baby. You just got this one in the midst of a fit. Babies cry. That’s what they do.”

“She threw up everywhere. Is she sick?”

He puts the back of his hand against her forehead. “Probably not. Babies spit up. Another fun feature.” He glances down at her, noticing she starts to quiet down when he touches her face. So he cups her face in his giant, scarred hand and uses his thumb to rub the side of her face. The baby wiggles and he asks. “You like that, shortcake?”

Of course now that he’s here, she quiets right down.

I blink, pushing up off the floor and standing. Her big blue eyes are focused on Sin’s face now. She seems to like his attention as much as I do, and now that she has it, she blinks up at him like a little angel. Then she reaches her tiny hand up, trying to touch his face, but she can’t reach.

“Oh, God, she’s cute again,” I murmur quietly.

Sin cracks a smile and looks up at me. “See? I told you I could settle her down.”

“You’re magical,” I tell him.

Sin shakes his head, looking down into Skylar’s face. “No magic, you just have to show ‘em who’s boss. Babies look all sweet and innocent, but they’re like dogs; they can smell fear. Gotta let ‘em know you’re in charge and you’re not going to tolerate their bullshit, then they’ll know they’re in capable hands. Then they can relax and be cute.”

“I’m not sure that would work for me,” I mutter, looking at Skylar.

“Then maybe you need to step up your game. Just pretend she’s on a date with me and you should be able to muster some dominance.”

Flushing, I smack him on the arm. “Not funny.”

His lips tug up in a little smirk. “Maybe not for you.”

I look down, shaking my head. “You’re such a jerk.”

Cocking an eyebrow, he says, “Want me to leave you here with this baby?”

I hold my hands up in surrender and slowly back away. “No. I’m going to clean the baby vomit off myself. You stay right here and be magical.”

Now that Sin is here to help, I escape upstairs to Rafe’s room so I can shower and change into something clean and comfy. The little devil on my shoulder and the little angel are in cahoots tonight. I know I’m supposed to be open to Rafe, but Rafe is sitting in the VIP section at a club right now and the man I’m crazy about is the one who rushed over to help me clean up baby vomit. So, maybe fuck Rafe, and not in the literal sense.

Rather than putting on actual clothes, I listen to the devil. I slip on a matching white bra and panty set. Instead of slipping a sleep shirt on over them, I pull on my pink satin robe. This will be much easier to shuck if Skylar throws up all over me again anyway, so in addition to being sexy, it’s practical.

I apply a quick layer of make-up—nothing major, just some eyeliner, mascara, and subtle lip gloss. I make quick work of blowing out my hair and tousling it, since I don’t want to look like I’ve done this much work. Lastly, I slide an elastic band on my wrist, just in case things get messy again and I need to put my hair up in a bun to deal.

As I head downstairs, I’m feeling much lighter than I have. Icky thoughts keep trying to bring me down, flashes of memory from last night, Sin sitting across the table from that damn bimbo. I want to set her on fire. If he went home with her last night, I’m going to. My pregnancy hormones are harder to control, and I’m a territorial person to begin with. If she wants Rafe, she can have him, but Sin is mine, goddammit.

Well, I guess he isn’t, but if he’s going to move on, he needs to wait until I’m back in Chicago so I don’t have to witness it.

All thoughts of Chicago fly right out of my mind like birds from an open cage at the sight of Sin relaxing on the couch with a sleeping baby snuggled up on his muscular chest. My heart nearly gives out, then goes into overdrive. Sin senses me in the room and glances my way, but his face shifts from congenial to something much less platonic at the sight of me. I linger where I am for a moment, letting him look me over while the tempting image of him with a baby emblazons itself on my brain.

The way he looks at me, he finds the picture I present just as enticing as I find him right now. My legs go on forever in this robe, and the way I tied it, a swatch of my bra underneath is visible. Sin’s eyes take their time perusing me, then his hot gaze meets mine.

His tone is faintly accusing. “That’s what you’re wearing?”