Last Words (Morelli Family 7)

I’m starting to understand what Meg meant about pregnancy wreaking havoc on your emotions. She’s usually a logic-monster so it just made her more emotional, but I feel like this baby has sucked all the patience out of me. Given the man I love requires more patience than most and my best friend tried to get me killed by my ex-boyfriend who kidnapped me (and I’m trying to keep all of them alive, for some reason), a lack of patience isn’t really something I can work with.

Now Rafe is here stirring up trouble on top of all that. When do I get a break?

Book in hand, Mateo takes a seat on the bed beside Rosalie and cracks it open. Naturally, watching him go into daddy mode for Rosalie melts away my moment of impatience and by the time he stands and tucks her in, I want to kiss his face off.

I can tell by his cocky smile he knows it, too.

“You’re evil,” I inform him.

He smacks my ass as I step out into the hallway, turning off Rosalie’s light and following me out. “You like it.”

“Using your fatherly charm to melt me into a puddle,” I continue, shaking my head.

“What can I say? I like making you wet.”

Somehow, I blush. I shouldn’t be capable of blushing at this point, but here we are. His hand snakes around my waist and he tugs me into his side as we head back to our room.

Once our nightly routine is finished, I curl up close to Mateo and lean in to kiss him. This is my favorite part of every single day. I love his strong arms wrapped around me, his lips brushing mine, my body fitted snugly against his. The only part of pregnancy I dread is when I’m showing more and I don’t fit against him as perfectly.

But then I get to meet the new little baby who grows in my womb. My son or daughter—we have a baby appointment this week, and though I’m told not to get my hopes up, I’m hoping this is the one we find out if it’s a girl or boy.

“Do you think it’s okay she isn’t moving yet?”

Mateo’s fingers skate down my shoulder and he cocks his head, confused.

“The baby. My—Our—This baby,” I settle on, pointing to my tummy. “I still haven’t felt her move.”

“Oh. Yeah, that’s normal for first time moms. It’s moving, you just can’t feel it yet. Wait until it gets a little bigger.”

His word holds all the weight for me, so my concern is immediately settled. “What do you think the baby will be like?”

“If it’s a girl? Beautiful and sweet, like you. If it’s a boy? Dark hair, big ego, short fuse.”

I give him a dirty look.

Mateo rolls his eyes and tugs me into his chest. “You asked.”

“Are you excited to meet Roman?” I ask, pulling back so I can look at him. “Your first son—that’s pretty exciting. What do you think he’ll be like?”

“Dark hair, big ego, excessively calculating.”

“You and Meg both learned to be that way,” I point out. “You weren’t born like that. So maybe he won’t be. His upbringing will be much different.”

“Possibly.”

I frown, since he doesn’t sound convinced. “Definitely. Your father was psychotic and you had no mom.”

“If Vince hadn’t fucked everything up, we could have just told Roman you were his biologically and it wouldn’t be an issue.”

“Just throwing this out there, but you could not kill his mom and then it also wouldn’t be an issue.”

“Mia, I love you to death, but you’re being naïve. I can’t trust Meg. She can’t raise my son if I can’t trust her.”

“I mean, she’s already serving a literal prison sentence. Maybe you could let her out and then do the loyalty test like we talked about—that way you know if you can trust her or not. Give her back the bar and let her build something of her own and see what she does with it.”

He shakes his head. “Too risky. Too time-consuming. After what she did to you, she doesn’t deserve that level of effort.” Bringing his hand to my face, he runs his knuckles over my jawline. “Anyway, I already told you, I don’t want you to worry about Meg anymore. We don’t have to talk about this.”

“I want you to be able to talk to me about anything,” I tell him. “I’m your wife. Even if we don’t see it the same way, you should still be able to run any of your problems by me.”

He catches my hand, holding my gaze as he brings my fingers to his lips and kisses them with exquisite tenderness. “I do, Mia,” he states. “I have the Meg situation in-hand, that’s all. I don’t need to talk about it anymore. Simple as that.”

“Why doesn’t that make me feel better?” I ask, rhetorically.