Last Words (Morelli Family 7)

I know he’s right, but it doesn’t make it any less difficult. “I just don’t like hurting him.”

“Well, he doesn’t feel the same about you,” Mateo states, without sympathy.

“Dada,” Roman says, thrusting a book into Mateo’s face.

Mateo takes the book, cracking it open. “You want another story?”

Roman grins and plops down in Mateo’s lap, looking down at the book and smacking it with his hand.

“You want in on this?” I ask Dom, as he gnaws on his giraffe’s neck. He doesn’t answer, but he likes to listen to Mateo read books. I don’t think he can follow the story yet, but he loves the sound of Mateo’s voice. Both boys respond to it; I think that’s why they like when he tells them stories.

I roll over on my side, propping Dom up against Mateo so he can see the book.

I’m tired and my heart hurts, so I don’t pay much attention to this one. I curl up beside all my boys and close my eyes. A couple pages flip, then one of my boys attacks my head. I pry open an eye to see which one.

Of course it’s my little sweetheart, Dom. He sees Momma’s not in a happy mood, so he climbs on top of me and plants his mouth against my cheek, giving me kisses.

His sloppy baby kiss effectively lifts my mood. He’s so wonderful. I pull him off my head and settle him on the bed in front of me, snuggling him close like a little baby spoon. “Are you trying to make Mommy smile? You’re doing a good job.”

He shows me his little toothless grin and touches my face, cooing at me.

I sigh happily and snuggle him closer. Sometimes I think I might actually explode with how much I love this kid. He’s too good for us. We don’t deserve Dom. He’s a bundle of pure, uncomplicated love, and he’s too good for this world.

Tonight he was used as a tool to hurt Vince, and I hate that so much.

Roman hits the book and butts his head back against Mateo’s chest to express his displeasure that Mateo has stopped reading. Mateo is watching me instead, but he turns his attention back to the book so he can finish it.

Once the book is finished, Mateo climbs off the bed, scooping up Roman. “I think it’s bed time for the boys.”

“Dom has to eat again first,” I tell him.

“He’ll fall asleep in two minutes like he always does.” Mateo slings a giggling Roman over his shoulder. “I’m taking this one to bed.”

“Wait! Kisses.” Mateo backs up to the bed and squats down so Roman can give me goodnight kisses. I hold up Dom to get his kiss, but Roman pushes him in the face so I pull him back. “Hey, now, you be nice to your little brother.”

Mateo stands back up and turns around, pointing his finger at me. “I’ll be back for you, and I expect to see far less clothing on your body.”

I smile faintly. “I’ll be ready.”

“See that you are,” he tosses back as he heads out of the bedroom.

Sighing, I reach for the diaper caddy beside the bed. “I guess it’s time for you to go to sleep, little mister. Did you have a fun day?”

He chews on his fist and babbles while I change his diaper and put his little blanket sleeper on. I pull up a pillow and prop him against my chest. He happily latches onto my nipple and settles his arm on my chest, looking up at me while he eats. I smile down at him, running my fingers through his hair. His eyes roll back, but he keeps suckling, struggling to stay awake.

He’s out in three minutes flat. I’d like to keep holding him, but Mateo comes back and I’m still snuggling.

“I’ll put him to bed,” he says, scooping Dom up and settling him against his chest. Dom’s little butt sticks out, his eyes closed, arm resting on Mateo’s chest. His adorable little mouth hangs open, his eyes closed peacefully. I sigh at the sight. Mateo winks, then heads to the little bedroom attached to ours where Dom sleeps.

I tug off my clothes and toss them on the floor beside the bed. When Mateo comes back, climbing on bed and straddling my body, I inform him, “You’re a dastardly man.”

“I know.” He drags his evil, sensual lips across mine.

“Seducing me with your good daddy nonsense.”

He laughs lightly. “It’s the only reason I do it.”

I give him a dirty look, poking him in the chest.

“And, you know, so they grow up to be well-developed individuals, of course,” he adds, bending to bury his face in the crook of my neck.

“I don’t want to ruin Vince’s life,” I inform him.

Mateo grabs my wrists, pinning them to the bed and leaning back to look at me. “Guess what I don’t want to do? Talk about Vince in bed.”