Page 30 of Moonlight & Matrimony (Oak Ridge #2)
Luca
? The Smallest Man Who Ever Lived - Taylor Swift
I ’m startled awake by the sound of agonizing groans coming from down the hall.
I quickly throw on a pair of gray sweats, taking care not to wake anyone as I quietly creep towards the bathroom, the dim light over the vanity casting a faint glow into the darkened hallway.
Peeking through the crack, I take in the disheveled appearance of my wife, who’s doubled over in pain on the bath mat.
“Ivy?” I whisper. “Are you okay?”
When she doesn’t answer right away, I push through the door, noticing the pained expression on her face as she curls in on herself. “What’s wrong?”
“Period cramps,” she answers, groaning slightly as she shifts.
“Are they really that bad?” I wince. Probably not the best wording. “Sorry, I just mean that you seem to be in a lot of pain. I wasn’t trying to minimize the female experience.”
“ The female experience, ” she mocks, a faint smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. “It’s fine, Luca. I know what you meant. They’re not always this bad, but my cramps can be extreme at times.”
“What can I do to help?” My question catches her off-guard, and it makes me want to find Austin and teach him how to be a real man. “I mean it, Ivy. Tell me what you need.” I infuse my voice with a little more command, and she looks at me with a mischievous smile.
“Bossy.”
“Brat.”
She rolls her eyes, then lifts her arms. It’s cute. “Help me up, please.”
I take both of her hands in mine, tugging her into a standing position. “Ok, what else?”
“I should take some pain meds and set up the heating pad.”
“Got it.” I reach an arm behind her legs, then wrap the other around her waist, lifting her up bridal style.
“Woah. What are you doing?”
“I’m carrying you to bed, and then I’m going to come back and get all the things you just listed off.”
“Luca, I’m not a damsel in distress.”
“No, but you are my wife, and it’s my job to take care of you.”
“I’m your very fake wife, and I can take care of myself.”
“The papers I signed and filed at the county courthouse say otherwise. Not to mention the way you came on my face last week.” I take in her stunned expression, smirking in response.
Not wasting any more time arguing, I carry her into my bedroom, depositing her in the middle of my king-size bed.
I stand there for a moment, memorizing the look of her in my space.
She’s disheveled in the most endearing way — her hair tousled from sleep, cheeks flushed, wearing only an oversized tee and a pair of boy shorts.
“This isn’t my bed,” she snarks.
“No, but my bed is bigger and more comfortable,” I reply. “Sit tight.”
An exaggerated eye roll follows me as I back out of the room, smirking as I quietly close the door behind me.
“Heating pad, water, pain meds,” I mutter to myself as I head towards the kitchen.
“Maybe some chocolate, too.” I grab an empty basket from the console table, quickly gathering the essentials, including a bag of M I really thought she was going to murder me for hovering so much.
Sometime yesterday morning, a migraine came on hard and fast, exacerbating Ivy’s already fragile state.
Despite her determination to take care of herself, I refused to let her leave the bed.
I drew the blackout curtains closed and soothed her back to sleep with one of my patented foot rubs.
While she rested, I turned my focus to Rylin.
We colored, played with the kitten, and watched cartoons.
Rylin insisted on a tea party, even going so far as to coerce me into wearing a fluffy pink tiara — I’ll be taking that image to my grave.
My knees are still protesting after sitting in one of the tiny child-sized chairs.
Later, Rylin helped me make dinner — homemade pizza and a salad — which we lovingly delivered to Ivy in bed, before snuggling up to watch a movie.
At some point, we all drifted off to sleep.
It was a surprise to wake up with both of my girls cuddled up to my side, albeit not an unwelcome one.
I knew then that I was treading dangerous waters where my wife was concerned.
A notification pops up on my phone, snapping me out of my thoughts.
Miles: Got the blueprints for the Marcello project. Rosie’s in 30?
Luca: See you then.
“Miles needs to show me some blueprints for our next job this afternoon. Do you want to come to Rosie’s for lunch?
” Logically, I know I should give them some space, but something is telling me to keep them close.
Maybe it’s the fear that Ivy will pull away again, or maybe it’s something much more visceral.
Whatever it is, relief washes over me when she agrees.
“Sounds good to me. I’ve been craving a BLT.” I’ve been craving something else entirely.
“Meet me at the truck in fifteen?”
“Make it twenty and you’ve got a deal.”
The diner is unusually quiet for a Friday afternoon, our usual booth bathed in sunlight as Rylin chatters away, talking Miles' ear off about anything and everything, completely unfiltered.
The scent of fresh apple pie permeates the air as Rosie slides the dish into the massive display case on the counter, stopping briefly to wave hello.
“Uncle Miles, did you know some cats have extra toes?”
“Is that so?” he asks.
“Uh huh! It looks like a thumb!” she exclaims, wiggling her own thumb back and forth as if to emphasize her point. Ivy and I look on as yet another person is wrapped around Rylin’s little finger.
“And Gigi said that one time a cat went to space! Do you think Chance could go to the moon? I like the moon.”
Miles chuckles, reaching across the table to boop her on the nose. “I don’t know about that, Ry. Wouldn’t you miss him if he went to the moon?”
Rylin’s shoulders deflate for a minute as she considers the question. Perking back up, she says, “Maybe I could go, too!”
“You wanna be an astronaut, Bug?” I ask, curiosity compelling me to join the conversation.
“Hmmm,” she says, tapping her little finger on her chin in contemplation. “Nope.”
Laughter erupts around the table just as Lisa delivers our meals. Rylin’s face lights up when she surveys the plate of fries that’s placed in front of her, effectively stopping the conversation dead in its tracks as she shovels a handful into her mouth.
“Slow down, love,” Ivy urges. “You’ll choke.”
“S’good,” Rylin mumbles around a mouthful. Shaking her head, Ivy smiles, and a quiet peace settles over the table, only the dull sound of clanking dishes and the faint murmur of conversation across the diner filling the silence.