I bend down and start unpacking my bag. “Well, I’m glad Rafe knocked you up then. Now you get to be one of them.”
Laughing lightly, she says, “Yeah, kinda. They’re an inclusive bunch. I love that. It doesn’t matter if you’re sort of a stray, if they like you, they’ll make you one of theirs.”
“Yeah, I like that, too. I don’t know the Chicago family members, but Rafe and Sin have always been that way. Sin’s family sucks, but he carved out a spot for himself with the Morellis, and the rest is history.” Cocking a knowing eyebrow at her, I tell her, “You’re not trying to bring me into the fold, are you?”
“You’re already in the fold,” she insists. “You were around before I was.”
“Rafe has had to deal with a lot of change lately. Not sure he’s ready for a massive change to the infrastructure of his life. Speaking of, I thought he’d be here already. Aren’t we starting dinner now?”
Laurel turns around and starts getting out spices from her cupboard. “Yeah, he’ll be here soon. We can go ahead and get started, that way everything is cooking and we’ll be able to eat.”
Carly comes in with baby Nicholas on her shoulder. She brushes a kiss against the side of his head, then says, “All right, mommy, it’s time for you to go relax with the baby, Virginia and I will get dinner going.”
“Oh, but I thought—”
“That you were going to sit your butt on the couch and relax now that help is here?” Carly finishes, lifting her eyebrows. “Yes, that’s what I thought, too. Get out of here.”
Laurel scrunches her nose up at Carly, but her expression melts right back into a smile as she takes Nicholas back. “Hello, you perfect little angel. Did you miss Mommy?”
His tiny hand shoots out and I can’t resist taking a peek. I close the refrigerator door and fold up the bag, then walk over to peer down at him. Just looking at his sweet little face makes me eager for Rafe to get here. Awkwardness seems such a waste of time; I want to get it out of the way so I can enjoy taking part in his family Christmas, comfortable in the knowledge that he isn’t going to run from me the whole time. “God, he is an adorable baby.”
Laurel beams. “He really is. I can’t stop staring at his little face. Everything about him is so perfect, I can’t even take it.”
“You are going to be showered with a lot of love, little mister,” I inform him.
“All the love,” Laurel agrees.
“Maybe too much,” Carly agrees, smiling down at him. “We’re going to try really hard not to turn you into every woman’s worst nightmare, but no promises.”
“My son is not going to be anyone’s nightmare,” Laurel objects, frowning at Carly before returning her love-drunk gaze to the baby. “You’re going to be a little sweetheart, aren’t you? Your daddy’s going to teach you how to be a good man. No breaking hearts.”
“Just faces,” Carly says, glancing at Laurel. “Let’s be realistic, the kid is going to grow up to inherit a criminal empire, so… he’s going to have some bad habits.”
“I don’t want to think about that,” Laurel mutters.
“Plus, he might actually get some qualities from Rafe,” Carly adds.
Sighing, Laurel says, “You’re a buzz kill. We’re going to hang out with the men.”
Rafe barely makes it back in time for dinner. Dinner is so close to being served, Laurel—whom we banished while cooking—has made it back into the kitchen to commence plating salads. I don’t understand why we’re plating food, anyway. I figured we would serve it up family style, but apparently we’re doing this “Morelli family dinner style,” whatever that means.
Apparently, what that means is that the men plant their sexy asses around the table, and we ladies bring them food like their own personal serving wenches. This is what I do for Rafe all the time, but seeing Carly bring Vince his food and Laurel bring Sin his, it feels a little less casual.
Rafe looks up at me when I stop beside him, his intelligent brown eyes scanning my face for signs of trouble.
I offer back open affection as I lean down and put his plate in front of him. “So nice of you to finally grace us with your presence.”
“My shift at the soup kitchen ran late.”
I guffaw, nodding my head. “Of course. Gotta get in those last minute good deeds so Santa doesn’t bring you coal. Good thinking.”
“I think I’m on the permanent coal list,” he informs me.
“Pretty sure we all are,” Vince adds.
“Not us,” Carly puts in, rubbing his shoulders. “The ladies get extra presents for dealing with you punks.”
Vince smirks up at her. “Yeah, you’re a real angel.”