Coming Home (Morelli Family 6)

“That’s not true,” he says, mildly. “I don’t leave you out. We do things together with Isabella all the time. Rosalie asks for you nearly as much as she asks for Meg. Has Meg been excluding you?”

“No. But… it’s not the same. I love Bella, you know that, but I missed the first six years. And I love Rosalie, but she already has a mother.” I hesitate on that note, watching his eyes for anything calculating. Adrian’s words in the car come back, so I add a little more to that. “And of course I’m glad she has Meg, and I love Meg, and I love our whole family. I just got really jealous when I found out. Last time she got pregnant, you and I weren’t together so it wasn’t weird. This time it was weird.”

He seems to consider my words for a moment, glancing beyond me instead of at me. He’s a little cold, but I’m not worried; he always is when he’s working through a problem. Finally, he warms up a bit and turns his gaze on me. “See, we’re coming at this from completely different angles. I think this is a good thing for us.”

I blink. “For us?”

Nodding once, he clarifies, “You and me.”

I blink again. “You think it’s a good thing for us—you and me—that you got someone else pregnant.”

He is completely sure of himself as he says, “Yep. Remember when Meg had Rosalie? Two full months of having me all to yourself. Didn’t you like that?”

“Well, yes, I liked that a lot,” I admit.

He dips his head in to leave a little kiss on the ball of my shoulder. “So did I. We’ll get that again. Meg will be tired and Rosalie is a hand full already, so you’ll still have a baby to coddle. Hopefully it’s a son this time, then I won’t have to do this again.”

Instead of making me feel better, that makes me feel worse. “But that’s just it—you had all your kids with everybody else! I wanted one.”

“And you’ll get one,” he assures me. “I told you, if you want a baby, I’ll give you a baby. I’ll give you one tonight if that’s what you need from me—you’re the one who wants to wait for Meg’s permission.”

“I do, but I don’t think she’s ever going to give it,” I state.

“It doesn’t matter,” he assures me. “We don’t need her permission. Personally, I would like to hold off a little longer, but if you have to have a baby right now, all you have to do is say so.”

That he’s outright offering kills the feeling of urgency. It’s not that I can’t have a baby. He just said I can. So now it’s my call. If I want him inside me right now without a condom, I know he won’t complain.

But that puts the responsibility on my shoulders, too.

If I did get pregnant and it made Meg sad, it would be all my fault.

Plus Mateo just said he would like to wait a little longer, and of course I want to make him happy. When we have a baby, it should be when we both want it, not just because I’m being jealous and impatient.

Instead of taking him up on that offer and telling him I want a baby right now, I ask, “Can I get a ballpark idea of how much longer we’re talking?”

“Just a little longer. Let’s see if Meg has a boy this time. Don’t take this the wrong way, but I’d prefer to have a son with her.”

I scowl at him to let him know I am definitely taking that the wrong way.

His arm around my waist tightens and his lips curve up with amusement. “Don’t take it like that,” he says, lightly. He drops another few kisses along my shoulder, heading toward my neck. “It’s not an insult. It’s just that you’re soft and sweet and loving.”

“All positive characteristics,” I state.

“In a woman, yes.”

I sag a little, my eyes rolling back in my head, and his smile widens in response. He loves to annoy me with his sexist bullshit.

“They’re not good qualities for someone who has to grow up to take over my position. I know you don’t see the dirty sides of things and I keep you in the dark on purpose, but I can’t have a soft son. A second son, sure. But not my heir. What if your traits are stronger in him than mine? I don’t want to twist him up. I need him to have the right kinds of instincts naturally. I have them. Meg has them. You don’t.”

“I have good instincts. No one ever gives my instincts any credit, but I’ve survived a lot of shit,” I tell him, eyebrows rising as I prepare to launch my own defense.