Page 83 of A Treasure To Keep (Leone Legacy #2)

Andrea

I t’s Théodore’s official due date today, and El, Marco, and I have decided to celebrate how far he’s come. He’s thrived since coming home, now weighing the average size for a newborn, and he doesn’t show any signs of slowing down.

I’ve updated ma mère every day on Théodore’s progress and El’s healing.

She’s saving up to visit us, too proud to take the offer for me to pay for a ticket.

Alessandro even offered to get a private flight for her.

Directly after our phone calls, I hear her on the phone with El, confirming what I told her is correct.

With the continued tension between her and her parents, having ma mère as a kind, motherly figure fills that void.

She knows about the run-in with her father, and her parents know that she had Théodore, but have chosen to keep their distance.

At least, as long as she decides to stay with me.

I unlock the door, walking in with the ingredients for a nice dinner.

Once I set down the groceries, laughter comes from the spare bedroom.

We’ve organized all the clothes, setting up a mock nursery while still keeping the bed for Marco to sleep in.

The three of us trade nights, Théodore sleeping in a bassinet in our room one night, then his crib in his nursery.

We’ve settled into a good routine of co-parenting, something I doubted could happen.

I make my way down the hallway, stopping in the doorway when I notice El, Marco, and Théodore in his nursery.

Théodore is having his usual afternoon tummy time while El and Marco stimulate him with different toys.

El doesn’t notice the look Marco gives her, but I do.

I’ve noticed his occasional glances at me and El, and El unintentionally mimicking him.

We’re denying what we did in the beginning, that we all want each other.

I lean against the doorframe, their heads whipping to me when I interrupt their moment. “Are you three having fun?”

“Hello, my love.” El stands, leaving Marco to stimulate Théodore as she wraps her arms around me.

We haven’t had sex since Théodore was born.

I’m not sure if it’s a lack of want, concern about whether it’ll hurt, worry that Marco will hear, or maybe all of them.

Even though our bedroom is across the hall from the spare, having a baby is tiring.

He’s up several times during the night to feed, and even if Théodore is in his crib with Marco, El still gets up to feed him across the hall.

Another instance where I overhear El and Marco talking. Laughing. Bonding.

When I pull back from kissing her, I don’t miss Marco’s attention, which is directly on the two of us, need spread across his face. When he notices I see him, he clears his throat, picking up Théodore. Something about seeing him with Théodore makes me want him as much as I want El.

“What’s for dinner, Lover Boy?”

“I bought ingredients to make a light salad, beef Wellington with mashed potatoes, and la mousse au chocolat.” Marco’s face curls up, practically malfunctioning. Why can’t he take the time to learn basic French? “It’s chocolate mousse. It’s delicious, trust me.”

“It’s fantastic, Marco. It practically makes me come in my panties every time.”

Marco’s lips barely move, a deep rumble combined with the words he says to himself. “We could only hope.”

Did I hear him correctly? “What was that?”

“Nothing. I’m going to shower. Let me know when dinner is ready.”

He passes Théodore to El, leaving El and Théodore to keep me company while I make dinner.

About twenty minutes later, Marco makes his way down the hall.

I almost choke on my own spit when I notice the towel placed low on his hips and his wet hair slicked back.

I can’t help but stare at the vee of his hips, pointing directly down to the towel that doesn’t leave much to the imagination.

El is rocking Théodore, her mouth ajar as her face shows what my brain thinks.

“That smells awesome. How long until it’s ready?”

“What? Oh yeah. Ready. It’ll be ready in about forty-five minutes.”

“Nice. Yell for me when it’s ready.” He walks off down the hallway, holding onto the towel as it almost falls off.

After he disappears, I continue cooking, trying to think of anything except Marco.

Unfortunately for me, I can’t keep the image out of my head, and my dick gets the memo too, getting harder by the second.

His glances, his moments with Théodore, his wet naked torso in that towel.

I turn my hips away from El, moving my dick to hide it from both of them. Having him around could be dangerous.