Page 27 of Matteo

“Oh, Matteo, I’m sorry. Were you close?”

“Sadly, no. Manuel was the oldest, and my dad spoiled the hell out of him. He was a bully, and I hated him. My mother blamed drugs on him overdosing. It was the means, but he was the cause. He drove too fast and drunk, more times than he drove sober. Thankfully, Santos is nothing like his father. He’s my nephew, yet we were raised like brothers.”

“Does Santos live here in Dallas? What about your other brothers?” I want to know everything about Matteo.

Matteo might have been born rich, but that didn’t mean he grew up with a lot of love—the same way I didn’t. Oddly, it makes me feel better that money wouldn’t necessarily have made a difference in my parent's love for me the way I was so sure it would have.

“Hm, no. He’s in our Los Angeles office. Rafe is my older brother and heads the family company in our corporate office here in Dallas. Javier is younger than me and is the head counsel for the company, and he’s also here.”

Layla squeals to get attention, startling us both. “What? You’re not getting any more noodles.”

Her eyes go wide, and she blows a raspberry.

We both laugh.

I yawn.

“Go to bed. I’ll take care of her.” He urges me.

Sighing, I don’t bother arguing. “Fine. Goodnight, baby. I love you. Be good for Matteo.” I kiss her cheek, and she chuckles at me. “Night.”

“Night.” He nods at me.

CHAPTER 9

Amy

Consciousness is sudden and complete. I can’t hide from it the way I wish I could. I don’t understand why I feel worse than I did yesterday. My head feels like it’s filled with sand, and all I want to do is sleep. Only the thought of Layla gets me out of bed and into the shower.

I hoped the shower would help me feel better, but it doesn’t. Unlike yesterday, there’s no joy for all the pretty clothes. I grab another pair of black leggings and a matching black t-shirt to go over the cotton panties and first bra I touch. My head feels so heavy my neck can barely hold it up. I find Layla’s room empty and a clock telling me it’s almost noon. Crap.

In the living area Matteo is sitting on a baby blanket on the floor with Layla’s hands in his, her standing the way she loves. She’s bouncing up and down, laughing as he goes through the ABCs. He is seriously adorable with her.

Layla spots me and cries out. “Mama.”

Matteo turns and my knees threaten to buckle at the way his beautiful face glows with happiness when our eyes meet. Gold. They’re gold when he’s happy. “Hey, how are you feeling?”

Taking Layla when he offers her to me, I cuddle her close. “Not good. I feel worse than I did yesterday. My throat doesn’t hurt as bad, but I’m so tired, and my head is…”

“It will get a little worse before it gets better. You slept through the worst part. How about you get back to bed? I can get the television working in there. I’m also good to set you up with snacks and drinks. I’ll get Layla’s monitor to keep an ear out for you. You can let me know when you want dinner or anything else.”

His offer is so thoroughly sincere. He wants me to spend all day in bed, and he wants to take care of me. Suddenly, I’m overwhelmed with gratitude and… I don’t even know. The tears trickle out of me. Then I blink, and they’re pouring out of me.

“I’m, I…” I’m stuttering and my throat is thick with an emotion I’ve never felt before. I don’t understand why I’m crying.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. You don’t feel good. Even with the infection dead, you let it go on for too long. Which means it’s taking a minute for your whole body to heal and you feel better.” It’s the soft voice he uses with Layla. Is he not talking to Layla? I sway, and in an instant, I’m in his arms.

A sigh of relief escapes me. His arms are the best place in the world. Here, it’s safe even with the crazy electricity. I’m not just safe in his arms—I feel whole again. As if a part of me I was missing is found with him. Is that what the electricity means, like when metal is heated and fused back together?

“Okay, let’s get you to bed.” He drops a light kiss on the top of my head. I can’t stop from snuggling into him, loving how he carries me with Layla as if it were no big deal.

Too soon, we’re back in my bedroom. He settles me on top of the wide queen bed I made up. I hate when he puts me down. “I’m going to grab some more pillows and a throw so you can get all cozy. I have it on good authority, from a multitude of my young lady patients, that naps with throws are always better than under the covers.”

I can’t help smiling, thinking of him with the little girls he treated. I love how he listened without dismissing their emotions, concerns, or declarations. Who he is with me is who he was with those patients—I have no doubt in my mind.

When he straightens from putting me down, Layla reaches for him across my stomach. “Just a minute, sweetie. I’ll be right back. I have to make sure Mommy is settled.”

A twinge of pain hits my chest. Matteo is just being nice. Like he was with his patients. He’s simply a good man—person. I have to stop seeing things that aren’t there. The poor guy, I bet he has a dozen women thinking they’re in love with him.

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