Page 76 of A Treasure To Keep
Andrea turns to El, mentally conversing with her through eye contact. Shortly, Andrea turns to me, nodding before he speaks. “Stay. I can’t imagine the thought of coming home and neither of you being here. Because I love you both.”
Suddenly, it hits me like a boulder that what they’re expressing is how I’ve been feeling since before El got pregnant. It’s just been intensified since we brought Théodore home. “Damn. Is that what this constant warmth in my chest means? I thought it was heartburn.”
El whips her head in my direction, tilting her head to the side. I’m sure I stuck my foot in my mouth, and she’s going to tell me raw and unfiltered. “Are you seriously that emotionally immature that you can’t isolate what love is?”
“I tell Théodore that all the time! This is different.”
El has her middle fingers pressed against her temples. That’s a new mannerism to show her annoyance with me. Good thing I can keep her on her toes. “God, you’re fucking ridiculous. Love is a common emotion, Marco. Do you know anything other than fuck, eat, and sleep? You Neanderthal.”
“While you two finish fighting, I’m going to grab Théodore. He’s fussing.”
Andrea backs out of the room, his words barely registering between El and my arguing. She’s right. This is love. This is our weird way of showing it, but this is love. It’s alright; Andrea can be the romantic, El can be the attitude, I’ll be the rock-hard muscle, and Théodore can be the perfect baby boy who brought us together.
Chapter 83
El
Today we’re getting together with Alessandro and Luci to introduce Théodore to Gia. Also, to tell them that Marco, Andrea, and I are together.
Gia and Théodore’s age difference is enough that Gia is sitting and grabbing at things while Théodore is focusing on keeping his head up during tummy time. Until he face plants. Still, I’m convinced they’ll be adorable together. He is her future husband anyway, meaning they need to be together all the time. I’ll make sure of it.
The morning after we had sex, we sat down while Théodore went down for his morning nap. We talked over every action and word that was said. We came to the general conclusion that while Marco may not necessarily be bisexual in the quote-unquote traditional sense, he wants Andrea in the same way Andrea wants him. And of course, I’m in that mix.
Since that conversation, Marco has been staying in our bed. Now I get to decorate and officially make the spare room into anursery! I’ll admit I was upset for a ridiculous amount of time that I wasn’t able to do that. I blame it on hormones.
We’ve loaded up Théodore into Marco’s truck, and I climb, literally climb, into his truck while he and Andrea sit up front. My heart beats faster at the idea of telling people about our . . . unconventional relationship. I know Alessandro and Luci won’t judge us since they’re our best friends, but it’s still nerve-racking. Their relationship started with Luci getting kidnapped and forced into marrying him. Who are they to judge?
It’s been two and a half months since my accident, and my legs still shake when we drive by the stretch of highway where my accident was. The bent guard rail and several missing trees on the side of the highway leave any leftover evidence that an accident happened. The average person could miss those details if they didn’t know or weren’t paying attention to the side of the highway. I’ll always know, though.
Andrea reaches his hand back to hold mine, knowing the anxiety rushing through my body without me having to say anything. My perfect empath. When I place my hand in his, he squeezes it twice, grounding my anxiety until we’ve taken our exit off the highway.
Before we know it, we’re pulling onto the Leone property, Domenico waving us through the gate. When we drive up, Andrea gets out first, grabbing Théodore in his car seat to carry him inside. Marco gets out next, opening the backseat and helping me get out of the truck. Heels plus the railing don’t mix. Yesterday, after Théodore’s pediatrician checkup, I slipped, and Marco barely had time to catch me as I plummeted to my death. Okay, I may be exaggerating on the plummeting to my death part. Marco got a stiletto to the foot after he laughed while setting me down. We weren’t friends for the rest of the day. Until he apologized. All. Night. Long.
The second my feet are on the ground, Marco spins me around, pressing me against the side of the truck as he grabs my face, kissing me gently yet passionately. Can you say weak at the knees? I’m about to bang him right then and there when Enzo turns the corner, switching his focus back and forth between us before walking off. One thing Enzo has always been good at is minding his own business, the best he can.
I shove Marco out of the way, walking into Alessandro and Luci’s house, and immediately hear her voice. I haven’t seen her since my baby shower, and I notice the shadow of her bump under her shirt. How far along is she, anyway? We have way too much to catch up on. Girl talk has been at a minimum since I’ve spent the last ten weeks focusing on a premature baby, healing after the wreck, and this crazy thing called motherhood. And now my two boyfriends who are boyfriends.
Luci is holding Théodore while Alessandro holds Gia. Gia is intensely focused on Théodore, her eyebrows wrinkled as she takes in his size. That intense focus on her face says Alessandro to a T. There’s no doubt she is his kid. Gia has been around James’ son, but he’s even older than her by almost a year. This must be her first time seeing a small baby.
Oh my god! I missed Oliver’s second birthday! I’ll text James tonight and beg for her forgiveness. She’s been texting me, saying she has bags of things for Théodore. Like he needs more stuff. And being the terrible friend I’ve become, I keep forgetting to text her back. We need to go back to our focus, El. This isn’t the time for my internal monologue to spin. Important things are happening here. Your son and his future wife are meeting for the first time.
“Are you two having fun with a sneak peek at your future? That is, if Gia is as enamored with her sibling as she is with Théodore.” I walk up to Alessandro and Luci as Andrea walks back in from the kitchen, holding three glasses of whiskey. I scanhim up and down, raising my eyebrows while he walks past me, handing a glass to Alessandro.
“Alessandro said it was time for a celebratory drink with Marco and I to commemorate this occasion. This is Alessandro’s home. It would be impolite to deny his generosity. Did I ever tell you how exquisite you are in this light?” Ugh! This man.
Andrea walks back over to me and kisses me. Can I ever be mad at this man? Unfortunately, no. Marco, finally, has made his appearance, casually taking the other glass from Andrea’s hand and sitting in the wingback chair in the corner.
Luci cuts in, disrupting the tension in the room. “El, I’m in love with him! He’s a perfectly handsome little boy.” Gia reaches over, gently touching Théodore’s hand. Luci moves Théodore to a sitting position with his back against her chest. “Gia, those are such gentle hands. Do you love Théodore? We’re focusing on gentle hands. She’s reaching a phase where she hits and throws almost anything. Most of the time, out of excitement. Until the other day when she smacked Alessandro. Geno said Alessandro was an early hitter, too.”
Marco cuts in from across the room, his right leg crossed over his left knee. “He still is!” Fucking. Marco.
“Shut up, Marco! No one cares.” Marco turns his head in my direction while we have a mental standoff until drama commences, surprisingly not brought on by me.
Gia must continue to reach out her hand as she stares at Théodore. All of a sudden, without warning, I notice her rear back her hand in my peripheral, smacking Théodore in the center of his face. The smack is what snaps me out of said standoff with Marco.
Luci and I gasp as I snatch Théodore, noticing that, other than a small bit of pink on his nose, he appears to be okay. His tear-filled eyes and bottom lip jutting out make my heart hurt as I hold him close to me. He’s more scared than hurt by mysudden and dramatic reaction. Luci apologies profusely and if Gia was older and if Luci wasn’t my best friend, I’d be pissed. But he’s okay. It’s okay. We’re fine. He’s fine. That leftover shocked caveman expression on Théodore’s face is Marco’s genetics showing up.
After a moment of silence, I break it, wanting to get this conversation going. “On that note, let’s chat before Marco’s too drunk to drive us home. Lord knows I’m too short to drive his truck, and Andrea hates driving.” Marco stops the glass to his mouth, noticing that I was talking about him as he finishes the last sip of his whiskey. Fucking. Marco.