Coming Home (Morelli Family 6)

His deep voice distracts me from my tumultuous thoughts. “Can you turn up here? Take us to Flavor.”

Sniffling, I pull back and look up at him. “What?”

“Not you,” he says, lightly pushing my face back into his chest.

I stay there for another few minutes, enjoying the moment of numb peace. I’m a little drained from crying, but I somehow still draw energy from Mateo. It makes me feel recharged, just letting him hold me like this. Even if he’s the one I need energy to fight.

I don’t leave his arms, but I do look up at him once I’m calm again. “We’re not going home?”

He shakes his head, his thumb brushing my cheek. There are no tears left, I can tell by how dry and icky my face feels, but he still does it. “We’re going to lunch.”

“Lunch?”

He nods faintly, his eyes lingering on my face. “I told you I’d take you after the last appointment. I got… distracted. We didn’t go. I owe you a lunch.”

“Honestly, we can just go home. I’m tired. My face is a mess. I don’t need to be in public.”

“Your face is not a mess. You’ll have more energy if we go do something.”

“Mateo, I’m tired.”

“Then you don’t want to go to the baby store today?”

I blink, then frown in utter bewilderment. “Huh?”

“That was the plan, right? After lunch, you wanted to go to the baby store to look at things we already have? I assume more for the experience than because we actually need any of it, but that’s what you wanted to do, right?”

I’m so completely confused.

Furthering my confusion, he splays his hand across my stomach. It doesn’t make me tense this time, though. His vibe isn’t threatening like the other night. This is how I would’ve expected him to touch my stomach if the doctor would’ve just given us the opposite news.

For a split second, I question reality. Could he have been testing me? Had the doctor lie for some reason? I can’t find a logical reason behind it, but sometimes I just can’t grasp the things he does. Maybe there is some benefit to doing it, and I’m just too basic to see it.

God, I hope he did that. It would be mean, but it would mean he is the baby’s father. It would mean I wouldn’t have to fight him over this pregnancy. It would solve all my problems. I wouldn’t even complain. I wouldn’t even care. I wouldn’t even demand to know why the hell he would do it; now I’m just hoping and praying this is an elaborate hoax.

I don’t know how to ask though. So I go for honesty. “I’m so lost. I don’t understand.”

“Which part?” he asks, patiently.

“Is the baby yours? Did you trick me for some reason? Why are you being nice?”

Adrian nearly chokes stifling his own laughter in the front seat. He’s lucky he wasn’t drinking anything, because it would definitely be sprayed all over the steering wheel.

“No,” Mateo says, ignoring Adrian and shaking his head. “No tests, no tricks. I just don’t want to cause you any further pain over this. You’ve been through enough. Do you still want to have the baby?”

I nod, still not fully trusting his words.

Nodding once, he says, “Okay. Then that’s what we’re doing.”

I’m still so confused. Pointing to my own chest, I ask, “You’re letting me call the shots?”

Amusement finally enters his brown eyes. He bestows one of his little looks on me, the ones where he thinks I’m adorable. “Don’t get used to it. But I’ll let you call this one.”

Helplessly brightening, I ask, “Really? You’re not going to fight me?”

He shakes his head, tugging me back against him. I go easily, nestling into his chest. “I don’t think we should wait to get married though. We need to move the wedding way up.”

Relief and exhilaration swirl through me like an emotional tornado. Not only is he giving in about my pregnancy, he still wants to marry me—and sooner!

“I couldn’t agree more.” Tilting my head to look up at him, I give him a little smile. “Thank you so much, Mateo. I love you.”

Giving me a little wink, he says, “I know.”

Just like that, he gives me back my hopes. Repackages my dreams. I can’t resist grabbing hold of his tie and yanking him down for a kiss. His strong arms draw me to him like he can’t get me close enough and he deepens the kiss. I wind an answering arm around his neck; I can’t get him close enough, either. After a week of distance, I need to feel his hunger for me. I need his mouth buried in my neck, his hand skimming my thigh, creeping up under my dress.

Still, I smile and reach down to catch his hand when he tries it. “Keep that up and we’re going to be giving Adrian a show,” I warn him.