“Unless you’d like him to projectile vomit on you,” Roman mutters moving across the room to stare over the side of the crib again, “then I suggest that’s not such a bright idea.”
Marcus nods as though the thought of vomit hadn’t even occurred to him, and he’s more than grossed out by the topic. “Fair call,” he says, backing away from the sleeping baby, realizing he’s not just a little bit out of his league on this one, but that he doesn’t even have his foot through the door. Levi though, there might be hope for him. Maybe supervised visitation.
The little guy begins to wake and a soft smile spreads across my face watching as Levi leans down into the crib and scoops him into his arms. The baby instantly begins to cry and Levi’s face fills with a sick, panicked fear. “Oh, fuck,” he rushes out before thrusting the baby right into my arms as though I’m supposed to know any better.
It hasn’t even been a full day yet, and already I’m so attached. It’s not hard to understand why Roman insisted that I’ll want to be in his life as some form of motherly figure. I just gotta figure out how to hold him without him screeching like a banshee.
I panic and Roman saves me, taking the baby into his capable arms and watching as he calms. “Hey there, little man,” Roman says as the baby stretches in his arms and immediately snuggles into his hold, soaking up the affection as though he’s been starved of it. “Do you need a bottle?”
My heart legit melts, like holy fuck, but side note, how does he do that?
I thought seeing the boys in uniform was the most delicious thing I’d ever seen, but apparently watching them care for this sweet, innocent baby is what really gets me. At least, watching Roman like this does. If Marcus were to pick him up, I’d probably die of fear.
The baby begins to cry and Roman gently sways as I hurry across the room and quickly scoop up the bottle we’d made just before striding in here as though we knew what the hell we were doing. I pop the lid and hand him the bottle, watching as Roman effortlessly glides the teat into the baby’s mouth.
He sucks hard and his eyes close in satisfaction before going to town on the bottle.
My fingers brush over his head, feeling the soft hairs beneath my skin. “Have you figured out his name yet?”
Roman shakes his head. “I have no fucking idea,” he says. “Normal parents get nine months’ notice to think of the perfect name, but I’ve had literally one day. It’s too much pressure. What if I choose something that sounds kind of cool for a kid, but as an adult, would have people thinking he’s a douche? I don’t want that for my kid.” He pauses and looks up at me with a terrified stare, something I don’t think I’ve ever seen from him. “What if I fuck up my kid?”
I shake my head. “Look at you, Roman. Look how much you already care for him. You’re a natural at this and he can sense that. I don’t think it’s possible for you to fuck this up. You’re going to make a great Father to him. Hell, I’m jealous. My father was awful, and so was yours. You know what a shitty parent looks like, so you know exactly what not to do.”
Roman’s lips press into a tight line as his gaze drops back to the baby, watching him take big gulps of his milk as though he can’t possibly get enough. “You sure about that?” he questions, taking a heavy breath.
“Positive,” I tell him before looking back at the boys. “Actually, while you’re all here, there’s something I wanted to run by you.”
Marcus narrows his stare, already suspicious. “Last time you said you wanted to talk, you dropped a fucking ‘I’m gonna marry your bitch of a brother’ bomb on my ass. This better not be like that.”
A grin cuts across my face and I laugh, moving across the room to stand directly between them all so I can see the three of them at the same time. “No, it’s definitely not that,” I tell him, hoping to somehow relieve the panic soaring through his chest. “It kinda occurred to me that we don’t really have a home,” I tell them. “I don’t want to live at the castle because for ten years, that was your prison, and with how much you’ve all seemed to keep away, I don’t think you want to be there either. Then there’s the DeAngelis mansion and well …” my gaze drops away and my voice lowers. “That’s where your father—”
“I know,” Levi says, his voice soothing and making me feel alright again. “That’s where he abused us too.”
I nod. “I don’t want to live there either, which only leaves here, in the Moretti residence, but I’m just not sure how you guys might feel about that.” I glance toward Levi again, my gaze drifting toward his scarred chest that’s covered with clothing. “I know you’ve got particularly nasty memories of being here. Not to mention this was the home of your enemy for so long. If you guys aren’t cool with it, then I’ll push the idea aside, no questions asked, but I guess … I wondered how you felt about making this our home?”
Marcus leans back against the crib, crossing his ankles as he watches me carefully. “What do you want, Shayne? Do you actually want to live here, or is this just the lesser of three evils?”
“I …” I pause, shrugging my shoulders as I truly think about it. “I mean, I guess I don’t really know. This home is beautiful, but every time I walk through the foyer, I see Gia’s face right before I shot down the chandelier.”
“Then this isn’t your home,” Marcus says just as Roman’s phone rings and he awkwardly adjusts the baby to pull it out of his pocket. He’s been waiting for Mick’s call, telling us that he’s got something, but judging by the disappointment on his face, I can only assume that the number flashing on his screen is anyone but Mick.
Roman strides toward the door, bringing the phone to his ear. “You better have good news for me,” he says, his voice fading away as he moves further down the hall, the baby happy to go along for the stroll.
“What’s that all about?” I question, watching as they shrug their shoulders, not caring to get involved in Roman’s business, not that he’d actually care to share unless it had something to do with them or me. Anything else is his business.
Marcus keeps his stare on me and my brows furrow, watching him back. “What?” I say slowly.
His lips press into a hard line as though he’s concocting some sort of top-secret plan. “What if we didn’t live at any of those places?” he throws out. “I mean, we’ll have to choose one and stay there for a bit, but what if we completely knocked down the home that Roman built and re-do it as our own?”
My brows instantly shoot up, my back straightening as my eyes widen with hope. “Are … can … is that even possible? Like, can we do that?”
He shrugs his shoulders. “I don’t see why not. Roman built it once before, why can’t he do it again? We can all put in the things that we want, and Roman can design it around that. Besides, it looks like he’s got some sleepless nights in his future, so it’ll give him a project to work on.”
“What will he say about this?”
“What would who say about what?” Roman questions, striding back into the room with the baby up over his shoulder and his phone slipped away into his pocket. He rubs the baby’s back, and I grin as the little dude lets out an almighty burp. “We were just discussing the possibility of maybe knocking down what was left of the home you built and rebuilding it, making it our new home.”
Roman stops in the middle of the room, his hand pausing on the baby’s back. His eyes widen slightly as he turns to take me in, looking a little unsure. “You’d want that?” he questions. “You don’t want to live here?”