Page 17 of It Must Be Fate

“If we’re forced to stay home while you two go out, then that’s the condition, baby,” I tell her. “Take it or leave it.”

“Fine,” she says with a pout.

“Now kiss me before you leave,” I order.

“Jesus,” Thiago mumbles, reaching for Theo. “Give me my son before he witnesses something that’ll permanently stunt his frontal lobe development.”

He takes him and walks into our house, heading back towards the kitchen.

“You got my sister pregnant within three months of marrying her,” I call after him. “Don’t pretend all you two do is crochet when you’re together. And also, you’re amurderer, I’m sorry to inform you but there’s not much hope for my beloved nephew’s frontal lobe with you around.”

Turning back towards Nera, I find my wife’s eyes and smile pointed in my direction.

“Come here you,” I whisper, reaching for her hips and tugging her against me. “Be good tonight.”

She wraps her arms around my neck and gets up on her toes. “I will. Enjoy your playdate,” she adds with a grin. “You two are so similar. No, don’t deny it, you’re already bantering like an old married couple. Your enemies to friends arc is going to besopowerful.”

“I hope you know that you’re going to owe me for this. I’ll be getting my payment from you later.”

Nera blinks cutely up at me. “Do you promise?”

I cup her nape and yank her against me, claiming her mouth with mine. It’s violent and ugly, just like the need and love I have for her. Marrying her only made it worse.

Ripping my lips off hers with difficulty, I say, “Get out of here before I change my mind.”

Nera takes a step back, then twirls, giving me a three-sixty view of her dress. The bodyguards swarm protectively around her as she walks down our front steps and onto the sidewalk.

She looks over her shoulder and blows me a kiss. I catch it and press it up against the left side of my chest where my heart is. I miss her already and she’s not even gone yet.

I close the door with difficulty and make my way into the kitchen where I find Theo back in his carrier and sound asleep, his father standing next to the table I’d set for Nera and I.

“How romantic,” he says, his tone mocking.

I put out the flames of the taper candles with my fingers. The last thing I’m doing is having a candlelit dinner with Thiago.

“How would you know? You don’t have a romantic bone in your body.”

“I’m romantic.”

I snort.

“I’m romantic,” he assures me, louder now. “Call my wife, she’ll tell you I’m romantic.”

“Sure you are.”

I don’t know what it is that’s so satisfying about needling him, but I can’t help myself.

“Do it,” he orders like I’m going to do anything he says.

“No, thank you.”

Next thing I know, his phone is up to his ear and he’s pacing the length of my kitchen.

“Amor,” he starts, putting Tess on loudspeaker. “Your brother thinks I’m not romantic. Tell him I am.”

My sister’s melodic laugh comes through the phone.

“Are you two fighting?”

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