The Rocchetti Queen - Bree Porter Page 0,39

up, the race had been won. For the past six weeks, all the heated glances and stolen touches would finally reach their climax—both figuratively and literally.

Dante gurgled in my arms.

“I know.” I kissed his temple, shutting the door to the room. “Let’s go and find the fireplace.”

By the time all the luggage was in, I had already warmed up the living room. Dante and I sat in front of the fire. My baby was on his belly, trying to lift his head, with my encouragement and support.

“Don’t help him,” Alessandro told me when he spotted me with Dante.

“He just needs a little help from his mama,” I cooed.

My husband shook his head. “He will do it by himself or not at all.”

Polpetto came dancing into the living room, heading straight for Dante. Alessandro scooped him up before he got close, holding him in one hand like a stuffed toy.

I scooped Dante up off the ground, holding him to me. He was still trying to lift his head. “Are you trying to show off to your daddy?” I laughed, smoothing down some of his hair. The color had yet to darken but all the Rocchettis were convinced he would be a brunette, while I was still holding my hope that he would have my hair color. “My strong boy, holding his head up, all on his own.”

Dante’s lips tilted, almost forming into a—

“Alessandro, he’s smiling!”

Alessandro leaned closer, taking in my son’s expression. “I think that’s just him figuring out his facial muscles, Sophia.”

“Nope.” I kissed his cheek. “He is smiling at his mother. My darling boy, you’re giving your mother big smiles, aren’t you?”

Dante kept trying to hold his head up, not really paying me any attention.

“Come here, my boy,” Alessandro held his hands out. Dante didn’t fuss as he went to his father. “I’ll let you discover your face in peace.”

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t help my growing smile as I took in my two boys. Alessandro held Dante to his chest, his hands strong but gentle with his son.

“Where did Oscuro and Beppe go?”

“They’re checking the place,” Alessandro said, “and then they will go to the guest house. It will be just us.”

Just us.

Polpetto barked and I scratched his head. “And you, too, my darling. We won’t send you to the guest house.”

“We would put him outside.”

“No.” I waved off Alessandro’s comment. He was still in denial that he liked Polpetto. “We will do no such thing.”

The atmosphere was relaxed and warm as we went about our evening. I cooked while Alessandro bounced Dante around—who decided halfway through he hated it and threw up on his father.

I laughed so hard that Polpetto looked genuinely concerned, while Alessandro disgustedly cleaned himself up and told me we were not having any more kids.

Dante couldn’t have been more pleased with himself.

Out of the window, I could see the lights on in the guest house, as well as the dark forms of Oscuro and Beppe.

“Are they sure they don’t want to come in for dinner?” I asked Alessandro once he had changed.

“I asked—they said no.”

“Did you ask or did you ask?”

He frowned. “You said the same word twice, Sophia. How many different ways of asking someone if they want dinner are there?”

I laid out our plates. “Did you imply they weren’t welcome?”

Alessandro placed a mocking hand on his chest. “My love, I am the most welcoming person in the world.”

Dante’s lips tilted again.

“Are you smiling at your daddy?” I crooned.

“You’re always going to be on your mama’s side, aren’t you?” Alessandro asked him, pretending to be grumpy but failing miserably.

“Hopefully, the next one is your teammate, no?” I mused.

Alessandro smiled slightly, the action soft and surprising. “If I was them, I would be on your side as well.”

When Alessandro came back from soothing Dante to sleep, I was suddenly filled with a burst of anxiety. And not only because this was the first time Dante would not sleep in the same room as me.

Our six weeks had come to its end, its finale. Maybe we were a day early but waiting was no longer an option.

I knew this time would be different. The next time we slept together, we would be different people, have a different relationship.

I wondered if Alessandro knew that too.

“Are you cold?” he asked me as he stepped into the bedroom, closing the door softly behind him. His eyes roamed over my short nightgown, lingering on my bare legs.

“A little.” Not at all. All I could think about was