Page 88 of Little Deer
Though my soaked panties clearly aren’t getting the memo.
Soren turns his head, his little eyes squinting up at me. I swear he’s plotting his revenge for putting him through this. If there is one thing he hates, it’s a bath. “At least it wasn’t me this time, huh?” I tell him lightly as I pick up the small cup and start to rinse off the soap on his skin. Soren cries angrily, his eyes scrunching up and tears falling down his cheeks, and legs kicking as Massimo and I gently hold his arms.
Massimo looks at me worriedly. “What’s wrong?” He looks like he’s ready to take him out of the bath and fling the little tub across the room.
“He’s just not a fan of baths. Are you?” I coo, despite Soren’s loud cries. “We’ll get you done in a second, huh?” I’m so used to this it doesn’t faze me anymore, but Massimo still doesn’t look convinced. He helps finish his bath, but he looks stressed out by the time we’re done. Soren’s cries are furiously angry and his little face is bright red, which instantly has Massimo scooping him out of the bath and into the towel he has waiting.
Massimo rocks him, speaking in a soft tone, but I can’t make out the words. I dump the bath water and wipe up the counter. When I finish, Soren has calmed down a bit, his cries turned to whimpers, and Massimo has him braced against his shoulder, rubbing his back and head turned to murmur quietly to him.
My heart clenches at the sight of them together. I always thought this would be me and Joey, but this was never going to be that. Joey was never going to be the kind of man that Massimo is; the kind of father I want for my son. He was far too selfish.
How did I manage to catch the attention of a man like Massimo Caruso? I’m not sure, but I’ll be thankful. Even if this is only going to be a short time, despite what Massimo keeps insisting, it’s something I can hold on to for the rest of my life. A memory to draw up when I need the good in the darkness.
Massimo’s eyes finally come back to me. “Please tell me we don’t have to do this every day.”
I shake my head. “Babies don’t need as many baths as adults. He does better in the shower, but I don’t like to do those unless he has a major blowout.”
Relief covers his face. “Now what?”
I walk him through the rest of the steps until Soren is dried, lotioned, and redressed in a fresh diaper and sleeper. Not that he was pleased to be put through that either. Massimo’s easy confidence is long gone, and he quickly scoops him up the moment he’s finished.
Seriously, who knew the big mafia man would be such a softie?
He suddenly looks over at me and says, “We’ve agreed that we don’t need to do that again for a while. We’re going for the manly smell until we both heal from the trauma.”
I roll my eyes. Alright, a softie and a tad bit dramatic. I’m starting to think he’s a bit more like Alessio than I initiallythought. “Well, if you’re planning on that, then I’ll be making sure to stay downwind of you for a while. Trust me, the smells that come out of him sometimes are just downright nasty.”
“What’s a bit of smell between men, huh?”
“Well, while you two figure that all out, I’m going to grab a shower of my own. While you might all be okay with the stink, I am not.”
The mention of a shower seems to distract him just enough, and his eyes darken. “Alright. We’ll leave you to it.” He heads for the door but stops just before reaching it, glancing at me over his shoulder. “Don’t bother dressing after,cerbiatta. I’m going to have them off you anyway, so why waste time?” Then he’s gone, leaving me staring after him.
I’m pretty sure that this man wants me to self-combust.
I wait until he shuts the door behind him before I strip down and get into the large glass shower. I lean my head back, letting the water pour over me, trying to get myself under some semblance of control. Excitement bubbles, along with worry. Stupid questions run through my head.
What if it hurts? What if I can’t do what he wants? What if I don’t feel the same? What if I disappoint him?
You’re being stupid. He won’t care, and he’s made that clear. You’re only going to piss him off if you start doubting it now.
Frustrated with myself, I push through my shower, trying to ignore the anxiety. This is why I hate having time to let the thoughts run through my head. I also know that part of this is just trauma with Joey, again. The last few days have clearly shown me that, as good as my relationship with my husband had been at times, it left me with some lasting trauma I need to work through.
It’s funny how a totally different man can make you see things about yourself and your past.
And while I need to deal with it at some point, I don’t want it to influence my life now. I don’t need to worry that Massimo is going to see me gain a tiny bit of weight and tell me to hit the gym. That, as my Dom, he has to ensure I’m in peak shape to handle him. That I don’t embarrass him when we’re at the clubs and other men are looking at us and judging, so that I don’t want to reflect badly on him.
Being young and stupid, I believed Joey and I worked so hard to stay trim and fit. I don’t want to even think about what he’d be saying to me now if he were still here. I know what it would be, and I also know it would be one more nail in the coffin of our relationship.
Massimo won’t be like him. But will he still be attracted to me as strongly as he is now? He’s surrounded by models and other good-looking women all the time back home. I mean, how can he not be? He’s hot, rich, and most women would overlook the criminal side of his life if it meant having him in her bed and opening his wallet. How am I going to compare?
Stop it.
The voice in my head is firm, sharp. Alright, so at least my conscience or whatever it is is still alive and kicking. Or maybe that’s only because now we have Massimo. Either way, I shut down any thoughts in my head and rush through the last parts of my shower. Well, other than making sure I’m shaved and smooth.
I have some vanity, and if I’m going to be naked with a man for the first time in almost a year, I want to look my best. Sue me.
Getting out of the shower, nerves jump in my belly. I dry myself off, use some of the expensive but utterly divine lotion that the girls supplied me with, before I get to work on my hair. I doubt Massimo would appreciate a bunch of water dripping on him, or it becoming a rats’ nest.
