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Submitting in Vegas (Vegas Morellis 3)

Page 138

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“I am most certainly not your dad,” Mateo tells him, settling an arm around Nicky so he doesn’t fall. Glancing up at Rex, he inquires, “What are you doing?”

Rex nods over his shoulder. “I’m gonna go fuck with Bella and steal her phone. If you hear shrieking, no one’s murdering her, she’s just yelling at me.”

Chuckling lightly, Mateo says, “Thanks for the warning.” As soon as Rex disappears the same way Bella went, Mateo stands. Responding to a command to move that he didn’t even verbalize, my wife hops off my lap, gathers her dress, and moves aside.

Mateo steps in front of me and puts Nicky in my lap. “I believe this belongs to you.”

Nicky brings his fist to his mouth and blinks at me.

“Are you ditching me, too?” I ask Mateo.

“Yep. I’m going to retrieve my wife.”

“Ooh, can I come? I’ll dance with Adrian,” Virginia volunteers, following Mateo with surprising eagerness. “Maybe he can topple a small government before the song is over. I want to learn from that man, I swear to God.”

I watch my wife and cousin disappear into the crowd, then I look down at my son. He’s a friendly little shit, but then I guess most babies are. “Everyone is playing musical baby with you tonight, aren’t they?” I ask him.

He grins and reaches for my face. “Ra ra ra,” he babbles. His eye catches on my boutonniere and he dives at it, trying to eat it.

“Hey, now, no eating flowers with safety pins attached,” I say, pulling it away from him.

He squeals in vehement disapproval, smacking me in the chest.

I lift an eyebrow. “You wanna go, little guy? I think I can take you.”

Apparently disagreeing, Nicky kicks his legs and nearly gets me in the crotch.

“Oh, hey, now, that’s not fighting fair,” I say, lifting him up and turning him around so he’s facing me. He certainly can’t stand on his own yet, but if I hold him up like this, he likes to think he can. “You think you’re a little badass, don’t you?”

He stomps my leg, as if to remind me about where he last tried to kick me.

I shake my head. “Hiding behind that baby laugh and cute little smiles. I see you, kid. I know your game.”

He dives forward and throws his tiny arms around my neck, craning his head back to look at my face. “Dada,” he says.

“One of ‘em,” I agree, my eyes traveling over his innocent little face.

Nicky smiles, then dives forward again and plants an open-mouthed, slobbery as hell kiss right on my cheek. It’s kinda gross, but kinda sweet, too.

“All right, all right, I love you, too.” Settling him on my shoulder, I stand and look over at him. “Let’s go find some trouble to get into. What do you say, little guy?”

I know beyond “mama” and “dada” he doesn’t say much on purpose, but I swear to God, it sounds like he answers with an enthusiastic, “Yeah!”

Smiling at the little rascal as we head into the crowd, I pat his back and tell him, “That’s my boy.”

THE END


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