“Yep, that’s him,” I verify, flipping the folder shut.
“Okay,” Mateo says simply, popping a piece of steak into his mouth.
I know I should probably get back to work, but I just continue to stand there, staring at this peculiar man. I’d been more than a little impressed by the threat the night before, but I didn’t actually expect him to do anything about it. I’m not going to object if he wants to—God only knows how many other single mothers Arthur went on to date after mine, and since my mother didn’t press charges and I never told, he could have a trail of victims behind him.
Mateo Morelli, Chicago crime lord, isn’t exactly the vigilante I envisioned though.
He glances over at me, since I’m still standing there staring at him. I can’t help it. There’s something undeniably sexy about knowing the most ruthless man in Chicago has my back.
“You surprise me,” I tell him.
He lifts one shoulder in a shrug. “Kids are off-limits.”
I smile, leaning in to give him a soft kiss. He drops his silverware, his arm moving around me, but before he can pull me into his lap, I pull back. “Just so you know, I’d let you fascinate me even if you were dead broke.”
I don’t give him a chance to respond, giving him a wink and heading back to the kitchen.
—
Mateo isn’t home for the night when I’m finished working. I expect I’ll end up back in his bed again though, so I shower and change into comfier clothes, but still brush on a little light make-up. Despite all the time we’ve spent in bed together, he hasn’t woken up to me yet, so he hasn’t seen me without it. I don’t use a lot to begin with, but given how neat and pretty he likes things, I figure I won’t go there yet.
I go back to the main house and find Lily and Isabella in the playroom. Like most rooms in the Morelli homestead, the playroom is large and absolutely ridiculous, but incredible. It’s a long room, and the whole left side is modeled to look like a little city. Brick storefronts with windows and doors—and inside, little play areas that fit the scene, a market, a bookstore, a restaurant, a bakery, a daycare for playing with baby dolls, and one that’s apparently Isabella’s townhouse.
“We’re in Paris,” Lily tells me, running over to show me the bags of stuff she and Isabella just ‘bought.’
“This is…” I have no words, and I just stare at the little city, then at Ju, who smiles in understanding.
“Why don’t we have one of these at our house?” Lily asks.
I shake my head, standing in ‘Paris’ and looking over at the other end of the room. That side looks like fun, too, though slightly more normal—a small indoor playground with a swing and a slide, a ball pit, a table full of art supplies.
“You can stay here forever,” Isabella tells Lily, bringing her a pair of purple sunglasses.
Lily puts them on without question and informs me, “We’re fashion girls.”
“You want us to do a fashion show for you?” Isabella asks excitedly. Then, without waiting for a response, she and Lily disappear into her ‘townhouse’ where there is apparently a dress-up closet.
Moving nearer to the nanny, I ask, “What is this place?”
“Beth loved Paris,” she explains.
“Beth did this?”
Ju shakes her head. “Mateo did it for her after Isabella was born.”
“Wow,” I murmur, looking around at it all again. “This… this is honestly the craziest, sweetest thing ever. My husband wouldn’t even paint Lily’s bedroom. I ended up doing it myself.”
“Mateo wouldn’t have liked your husband.”
I chuckle at that. “No, he wouldn’t have.”
While the girls get ready, Ju rolls out a red rug and grabs two chairs from the storage closet. I’m a little confused, but then the girls come out in plastic heels and pretty dresses, and I remember they’re putting on a fashion show.
I take a seat next to Ju and play the audience, but as I go to pull out my phone to snap pictures, I realize I don’t have one.
Leaning closer to Ju as the girls head to the other end of the red carpet on the Parisian street, I ask, “Can you please take a picture for me? I don’t have my cell phone anymore and I need proof that this actually happened.”
Ju grins, but nods her head, extracting her cell phone and taking pictures while the girls strut their stuff.
—
I’m lying in Mateo’s arms, lightly tracing spirals across his chest. His body is relaxed, his eyes closed, but he’s awake. Alert, despite all indications otherwise.
“I love your body,” I tell him, dragging my finger down his chest to his abdomen.
Squeezing me a little closer, he smiles with his eyes still closed. “I’m pretty partial to yours, too.”