“Oh yeah.” Matteo grins wolfishly. “I sing the heck out of the ABCs, Anya. You don’t even know. Old McDonald? My rendition could go triple platinum.”
His serious tone sends a giggle bursting from my lips.
“Your aunt doesn’t believe me, Isobella,” Matteo says, shaking his head with a tsk. “Tell her I have a beautiful voice, won’t you? Defend my honor,principessa.”
For the first time, I watch as my niece really smiles. Her tiny lips spread and her shy blue eyes sparkle as she looks up at him.I know she doesn’t fully understand what he’s saying, but she looks so incredibly happy just hearing him speak to her.
“I believe you,” I tell him, feeling something warm and fuzzy settle in my stomach. “You just surprised me. I’ve never heard a made man sing.”
Especially not nursery rhymes.
He shoots me a cocky smile. “Ahh, that’s okay. I’m sure I’ll keep surprising you. I’ll bet you’ve never met a made man quite like me.”
I have no trouble believing that.
Chapter Twelve
Matteo
Ijuggle entertaining the kids and talking on the phone to Anya for twenty whole minutes before I hear Dmitri and Ivan coming inside the house. Thinking that I shouldn’t put her in the awkward position of being on a call with her while they’re in the room, I tell her I’ll get right back to her and hang up with a smile so that she knows nothing is wrong.
Just in time too, because the second I put my phone down, Ivan is walking into the living room. Cesar is elated to see him, of course. He’s always happy to have more humans to give him the attention he deserves.
“Are you sure you went for a run?” I tease, allowing him to pluck Cesar from my lap. “You don’t look like you sweat a single drop.”
He gives me a dull grunt. “I took a shower.”
“And you didn’t wash your hair?” My nose crinkles, knowing how sweaty my own head gets after a good workout.
“Ididwash it. I just dried it after.”
“You dried your hair?” I chuckle. “What, are you expecting company or something? Who dries four inches of hair?”
Ivan rolls his eyes, unamused. “I do.”
“No need to be sassy about it,” I quip, giving him a taunting smirk. “It looks very dashing. Right, Cesar?”
“NO!”
I crack up, tossing my head back.
“Hilarious. You knew he would say that. He saysnoto everything.”
“Not true,” I disagree, shaking my head innocently. “Cesar, should Uncle Ivan get you a snack?”
“N—” He stops himself, eyes going round as the question digests. “Milk.”
Laughter shakes in my ribs.God, I love this kid.
Milk is the only word he says when he demands food, but he’s getting better at pointing at different things that he wants when you give him snack options.
“You heard the man,” I tell Ivan, grinning wide.
Scowling, he says, “You’re a child.”
“And you’re easy to piss off.”
He doesn’t have time for another retort before Dmitri joins us in the living room, immediately retrieving his daughter from me.
