Page 76 of Born into Blood

“Oh, do tell,” Vitaly hollers over from where he’s getting another drink. “We’d all love to hear the phrases you’ve taught him.”

Natalya’s face turns a bright red while Dominic laughs and Lev groans.

Vitaly looks over at my Aunt Jolene. “Probably similar to the phrases Lev taught you.”

My aunt laughs and shakes her head at him before kissing her granddaughter and whispering, “Your Uncle Vitaly is a big ol’ troublemaker.”

Isabella laughs and lets out an adorable squeal while flinging her arms and legs in excitement. When her blue eyes find mine, she gives me a big, gummy smile and reaches her arms out. She’s impossible to resist, so in seconds I’m scooping her into my arms and bringing her to my chest. I kiss her cheek and smile down at her, and when I look over at Lara, I’m taken aback by the look on her face. She’s watching me with a baby in my arms, looking every bit like she’s falling in love with me all over again. It’s the kind of look that knocks a man on his ass and steals the breath from his lungs.

“Uh-oh,” I hear my Uncle Vitaly say. “I know that damn look.” He laughs and pulls a surprised Lara in for a hug. “Welcome to the family, sweetheart. I’m looking forward to the wedding.”

We all laugh because he’s not wrong. I’m marrying Lara as soon as I can get her sweet ass down the aisle. Isabella joins in the laughter, not having the slightest clue what’s going on, but loving it all the same.

When my family finally releases Lara from the recent round of hugs, she steps closer and smiles at the squirming baby in my arms. I turn her around so her back is to my chest, earning me another happy squeal as she kicks her legs, happy that she can see everyone now.

“She’s so beautiful,” Lara whispers, smiling when Isabella grabs onto her finger and refuses to let go.

“She is,” I agree, “and I think she knows it.”

Lara laughs and then grabs her phone. “I’ve got to take some photos. You look too good with a baby in your arms, Luka.”

I lean down so my mouth is close to her ear. “I could easily make sure I’ve always got a baby in my arms, kisa.”

When I pull back, she’s blushing and smiling and making me wish I could haul her inside and get to work on making our own baby. I resist, just barely, and instead smile with Isabella for all the photos Lara takes. When she’s satisfied, I hand her Bella and do the same thing, because fuck does she look good holding a baby.

My Uncle Lev comes back to grab her, because he can’t ever go long without holding her. She gives another happy squeal when she sees him and then immediately reaches up for his lip ring, making him laugh and pretend to gobble down her hand.

“Your family is amazing,” Lara whispers, wrapping her arm around me and tucking into me like we both love.

“Yeah, they are, and they’re your family now too.”

She holds me tighter and nods her head. God, I would fucking do anything for this woman, and having her here with my family feels so fucking natural, like she was always supposed to be here with us.

“Oh my god,” my cousin Mia yells, drawing our attention to where she’s stomping away from an angry-looking Dario. “How the hell am I supposed to learn how to stab someone if you won’t teach me the proper way to do it?”

Lara looks up at me. “Huh?”

I smile and say, “That’s Mia, my Uncle Lev’s youngest daughter.”

Dario looks over at the others for help, but they just laugh, leaving him to face the angry fifteen-year-old alone. He sighs and scrubs a hand over his stubbled chin. “I promised to teach your brother close contact fighting, Mia, not you.”

She turns and points a finger at him. “You could teach me too. You just don’t want to.”

“No,” he corrects. “I just don’t want to see you accidentally stab yourself during training.”

She calls him a bastard in Russian, making her dad laugh while Dario mutters something in Italian that has Dominic fighting a grin.

“I’m not an idiot,” she says, spitting the words out at him, “and I’m not going to accidentally stab myself like one.”

“I’ll teach you when you’re older. Keep training with your dad, and I’ll teach you knife fighting when you’re older.”

“When I’m sixteen,” Mia declares.

Dario laughs and shakes his head. “Eighteen.”

“Seventeen,” Mia counters.

Dario glances over at Lev, who gives him a slight nod. With a sigh, Dario finally agrees and says, “Fine, when you’re seventeen, but lose the bratty attitude before then. I’m not going to teach you if you’re going to be stomping your foot like a toddler and throwing a tantrum every time I tell you something you don’t want to hear.”

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