Coming Home (Morelli Family 6)

Mateo groans. “You’re not going to let me get any sleep tonight, are you?”

I slide my mouth down the length of his finger, then release it. “By all means, if you’d rather sleep than fuck me, we can cuddle.”

“There’s nothing I’d rather do than fuck you. I’d rather fuck you than breathe,” he informs me, tugging me close. “Holding you is a close second.”

My arms are already around him, so I give him a little squeeze, then I peer up at him. “Aren’t you glad you don’t have to choose? We have at least 50 more years of this in store for us.”

“You might, I probably don’t,” he says lightly.

I scowl. “Don’t joke about that. You have to live forever.”

“That’s right. I just remembered I am immortal; it shouldn’t be an issue.”

“I knew it,” I murmur, brushing my lips against his pectoral muscle.

“Wait ‘til I show you my sea of souls. We’ll ride through in a gondola.”

“Is that our secret honeymoon? You’re going to show me your digs in the underworld?”

“Obviously.”

“As long as you can make me immortal with you, I’m game.”

Dropping a kiss on the crown of my head, he says, “You’re probably too good to get in.”

I shake my head, because he’s crazy. He’s so corrupt that he still thinks I’m good, and it’s absolutely adorable. “I’m pretty sure I can just drop your name and they’ll make an exception.”

He pulls back to look down at me, catching my hand in his and twining our fingers together. “Do you want to know where the honeymoon is, or do you want it to be a surprise?”

I pause, considering. “Hm. You can surprise me. I’m betting there’s a beach involved.”

His lips curve upward. “Possibly.”

I smile, snuggling up to him again. “I can’t wait to marry you.”

Lightly mocking, he asks, “Because it will be so different from our relationship now?”

“My name will,” I offer. “I’ve felt like a Morelli for so long. It’s about damn time you make an honest woman out of me.”

His grin gets lost in my neck as he gives me more kisses, then rolls on top of me, nudging my legs apart. “Does that mean you’re finally making an honest man out of me?”

I laugh, burying my face in the pillow. “I think you might need the Pope for a job like that. I may be good by your standards, but I’m not that good.”

He laughs lowly and grabs my hips, lifting them and positioning himself between my legs. “That’s okay. You’re perfect, as far as I’m concerned.”

The only perfect I care about being is perfect for him. As he pushes inside me, he’s home, right where he belongs, and when he fists his hand in my hair and replaces his tenderness with brutality, I welcome it. Because I’m perfect for him.

—

Peas.

I push them around my dinner plate, helplessly grimacing. I don’t know why they’re so disgusting tonight. I don’t know why the thought of them turns my stomach. I don’t know why I suddenly feel ill.

I can’t spit them out, can I? That would be rude. Oh, my god, they’re so… they’re not even terrible, just the feel of them squishing around in my mouth, the flavor of them on my tongue—I’m going to be sick.

I shove back from the table, covering my mouth, and run for the bathroom.

After that awful, gross couple of minutes, I push the bathroom door open and find both Mateo and Meg waiting outside for me. Mateo’s hands are shoved into his pockets and he’s appraising me, a mild look of concern on his face. Meg looks more like she wishes she would’ve brought popcorn.

Since being sick isn’t terribly glamorous, I duck my head. “Sorry about that.”

“Are you okay?” Mateo asks.

I nod my head. “Yeah, I feel totally fine now. Maybe I’m catching that stomach bug that was going around Bella’s school.”

“The one that reacts poorly to random dinner foods and causes your breasts to be sore?”

I blink at him. “What?”

“You didn’t want me to touch them last night in bed.”

I blink again, sliding my gaze over to Meg. She rubs her protruding stomach pointedly and my heart drops.

“Oh, my god.” First it makes me feel like I just dropped ten stories, but excitement is right on its heels, because she’s right. I haven’t had a period in… I don’t know. Why don’t I keep better track of this stuff? “Oh, my god.” I look to Mateo now, but he doesn’t look as excited as I want him to.

He’s right; I need to bring it down a notch. I need to take a pregnancy test first. If I get myself all worked up and convinced I’m pregnant, I’ll be a sobbing mess if I’m not.

I feel a little like sobbing now, which is weird.

I can’t keep from hugging him anyway, just in case. It takes a few seconds longer than I expect for his arms to move around my waist. My head is spinning with the possibilities. An image of my very own little Morelli baby kicking at me with a toothless grin and a white onesie pops up in my mind, and I nearly melt.