Page 20 of Hidden Rocco
Mica checked her ponytail was still straight in the shiny steel of the refrigerator door, and that she had no appearance of being disheveled.
Rocco’s kiss was hotter than anyone else’s ever.
She’d been kissed before, plenty, though never with such intensity that her knees went weak.
The cold of the freezer soothed her warm cheeks and she brought the beers toward the dining room.
The frigid air hadn’t cooled her libido.
Rocco was near the table he'd just finished setting and she met his gaze.
Her lips parted.
If only he’d kiss her again and not stop.
However, the wail of her baby from the monitor interrupted and she stepped back. Rocco said the obvious, “Sounds like your son is awake.”
So no romantic dinner for two. Mica knew better; she was a mom now. Gesturing toward the door she’d just stepped through she said, “I’ll go get him.”
Rocco saluted her like a soldier. “I’ll get the playpen so Jacob can be next to you while you eat.”
“Thanks.” She ran up the stairs.
No one was that useful in her life, not even her parents. Julie took care of a few things but she didn’t automatically assume anything, waiting until she was asked.
Her mother and father had complained when she’d asked for their help one time to babysit. She’d been so sick, but had to rescue her brother, their son, with her helicopter. Jacob, so young, had interfered with a fundraiser they’d wanted to attend.
Rocco’s simple gesture to get the playpen struck a chord as she made the top step in her dash upstairs.
What would it be like if she actually had a real partner without being a bother?
Might her life be sweeter then?
Jacob stopped wailing the moment she scooped him into her arms.
He trusted her to take care of everything, and those big, brown eyes made her hold him tight.
The one good thing from her messy past was him. She cradled Jacob to her and returned down the stairs, music reaching her ears.
Rocco had chosen relaxing music as if caring what she might want over dinner conversation. As she entered the dining room, she stopped abruptly. Rocco had set up the playpen beside her seat, a blanket folded back invitingly.
Seriously? Not only was he thoughtful of her, but Jacob. Her heart pounded with gratitude but she sat down in her chair and handed him the soft blanket from one of her friends in New York. “Here, please put this away.”
Rocco folded it and set it on the empty seat next to him. “I thought he might be cold.”
Considerate, and once she'd have thought the same. She smiled at him and explained, “Babies aren't strong enough to push back a blanket in their sleep. All the books say don’t give them one when they are asleep.”
“I didn’t know.” He took the chair next to her and Jacob.
This was what a real family must feel like. Dinner. Help with the children. Were Raphael and Gabriel doing this too, with their pregnant wives?
She pulled her chair closer, getting a savory smell of meatloaf. “I’m learning as I go. I research everything.”
He lifted the bowl of mashed potatoes and piled them on her plate. “Sounds like a lot of work.”
Carbs were never her friend, but she held her tongue. Jacob rattled his small monkey like it was the most fascinating thing in the world. Mica traded him for the warm bottle of formula Rocco had prepared and left on the table, and then picked up her silverware. “I was always a good student.”
“I bet you were.” He winked and they ate a few bites in silence.
