“True. I’ll be interested in seeing the result once he starts talking.”
“If his first words to you are ‘bring me a bottle, chop chop’ then we know he’s really mine,” Rafe tells me.
I grin, carefully touching his soft baby hair. “Even a toddler will probably have better manners than you. I bet he’ll at least say please and thank you.”
“I thank you with cash,” Rafe replies.
“I’m going to add this moment to a file I keep in my head labeled ‘times Rafe has made me sound like a hooker.’ The file is getting thick.”
“That’s okay, we like hookers in this family, don’t we, Carly?” Rafe asks, glancing back at Laurel’s sister with a wink.
Her blue eyes narrow at him with dislike. “I told you, Rafe, you’re not a hooker because you don’t get paid. You’re just a whore.”
This is not the first time he has made a remark like that to her. I wonder if he’s implying she’s a golddigger because she married his cousin days after he inherited millions of dollars from Ben, or there’s some shadier reason. Probably because she married Vince. She’s certainly pretty enough to be a call girl, though. I’ve seen far less attractive ones than her. I’m sure I’ll find out the reason eventually, if she’s going to be coming around more now.
I do know Laurel told Carly to call Vince to check on Skylar though, and I also know Vince is not supposed to come to town without Rafe’s permission. Maybe he made an exception for Nicky’s birth and the Christmas holiday.
“Is your husband in town too, Carly?” I ask casually.
She nods her head. “He’s at their house babysitting Skylar so I could be here for Laurel while she was in labor.”
“I want video footage of Vince babysitting,” Rafe remarks, smirking.
“Vince is good with kids,” Carly tells him. “Not all grown men are afraid of babies.”
“Yes, I remember how good he was with Dom,” Rafe volleys back.
Carly sighs, like dealing with him zaps her of every last ounce of patience she possesses. “Why are you the way that you are, Rafe? Didn’t your mother love you?”
I glance at Laurel to see what she thinks about all this, but in her post-labor hunger, she can’t seem to focus beyond the delicious steak that she is devouring. I glance at Sin to see what he thinks, but he doesn’t seem to give a single fuck. His gaze shifts back and forth from Laurel to the baby snuggled against my chest, and never strays to Rafe or Carly.
Remembering Rafe said Nicky wasn’t in a good mood when he held him, I ask, “Would you like another turn now that he’s in a better mood?”
“I suppose I can try again,” he says, his gaze dropping to the baby on my chest. “You want to come see me one more time, or do you like Virginia?”
The sweet little angel on my chest merely blinks up at him. As helpless and quiet as this baby is, he has already sky-rocketed to my top-three favorite people in the world, just a hair below Rafe. Give him a little time to coo at me, and who knows how the ranking will fluctuate.
Now Rafe takes Nicholas and settles him against his muscular chest. I manage to stifle a dreamy sigh, but damn, only by sheer force of will. As often as my memory is a curse, I’m happy for it right now. I’m going to memorize every half-second of Rafe cuddling his newborn son, that way I can replay it over and over again at will. The kitchen made the wrong order and the customers were already being assholes? Just take a breath and picture Rafe cuddling his adorable newborn son. All better.
After our visit at the hospital I head back toward the restaurant to get my car. When we’re a couple minutes away, I feel Rafe’s eyes on me, so I glance over to see what he wants.
“What are you doing tonight?” he asks.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, you’re not going back to work, but the night is still young. What’s the plan? What do you do when you’re not at the restaurant? Do you go out? Stay in? Do you knit?”
That last part startles a laugh out of me. “Do I look like a knitter?”
“I mean, kinda.”
I grin, shaking my head. “No, I don’t knit. I actually used to crochet when I was 14 and 15, but then I got bored of it. I shouldn’t have told you that,” I realize, seeing his smirk.
“No, I’m glad you did. The mental image is priceless to me. Did you sit in a rocking chair with a shawl and reading glasses that you wore low on your nose?”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” I mutter. “I’m younger than you, buddy, so don’t get cocky.”
“Do you like to go out?”