“He does that,” Enzo replied with a smile.
The next minute unfolded in an alternate reality where Enzo and I moved instinctively, as if we’d done this dance hundreds of times before. He opened the door while I laid Mattie down on his bed and tucked his dinosaur-themed blanket around him.
I watched him.
Enzo watched him too.
It was a picture of familial bliss that was a total lie.
“Thank you,” Enzo broke the silence, his voice ragged and raw.
“Of course,” I said softly as our eyes met. For a split second, something passed between us, unspoken and intense. But before either of us could recognize it or put a name to it, I stepped back, breaking the spell. “I, uh, should go work on tomorrow’s lesson plan.”
Something that looked a hell of a lot like disappointment flashed in his green eyes, but it vanished so fast I wasn’t sure that’s what I’d seen at all. “Right. Good idea.”
I nodded and turned quickly, rushing from Mattie’s room while my heart thudded wildly against my ribs.
This is temporary, I reminded myself.
They don’t belong to me.
This was a temporary job. Thirty days—I hoped—and then I’d be back in my office where I belonged and where the world made sense.
Where heartbreak wasn’t staring me in the face.
The sizzle was there, but it was fleeting, not something to risk more pain for.
Chapter 8
Enzo
“Where is Matteo?” I left my office expecting to hear his loud, familiar giggles, but the house was eerily quiet. I made my way to the kitchen and stopped abruptly when I spotted Ren at the kitchen table alone, reading a book.
She didn’t even look up when she answered. “Asleep. Again. He woke up hungry and I made him a sandwich and a fruit salad, which he gobbled up. And then he promptly fell back to sleep.” Finally, she tore her gaze from the book and looked at me. “He said you’d come say good night when you were done.” Her jaw tightened imperceptibly, the way it always did when she wanted to say something but held it back.
I stared back for several seconds before turning on my heels and heading up to Matteo’s room. The soft glow from his nightlight bathed the room in golden light, making my boy look like an angel as he slept with Leo tucked under one arm, the other cradling his head. I bent over and brushed a kiss against his forehead and pulled the blanket up just a little.
These moments were the ones I cherished, the soft moments of parenthood that went largely unnoticed. These were themoments I would fiercely protect with the full power of the DeRossi Organization. Another minute passed as I watched Matteo sleep peacefully, completely oblivious to the danger that lurked in the distance.
The way it should be.
I placed one hand over my heart and backed out of the room, pulling the door half-closed before I turned and made my way back to the kitchen. Ren sat in the same spot, her eyes still glued to her e-reader, pretending she didn’t see me standing there. “Is there enough for me?” I asked, knowing damn well there was. Tonight, I just felt like pushing her.
Her gaze lifted and turned to a glare. “Nope.”
I smiled and pulled out the chair across from her anyway, making a big show as I filled a plate with gnocchi with red sauce, salad, and fish without ceremony. “This smell has been torturing me for the past hour.”
Ren gave me nothing, not even an obligatory smile.
“Ren,” I said quietly, pouring myself a glass of wine and refilling hers.
She looked up again, her blue eyes sharp and guarded.
“I’m sorry.” The words sat between us, small and insufficient. I knew it.
She knew it.
“So fucking sorry,” I continued. “I think I did the right thing, or at least what I believed was right under the circumstances. But I am sorry that I hurt you.”
