Page 34 of Matteo

Layla is trying to taste one of the tubes. “No, baby, let’s see. There’s another gift for you.”

Grumpy at not getting a tube, Layla blows a raspberry at her mother. She slaps at the baby doll Amy was trying to get her to play with earlier. Stormy brown eyes find me, and she reaches out to me. I take her from Amy, who sighs at her daughter’s antics.

I cuddle Layla close. She needs a nap.

“Another one for you, Matteo.” Amy hands me the box and waits for me to open it. “A watch? Patek Philippe. Never heard of it. I thought it would be a Rolex or something.” She shrugs and returns to opening the gifts.

Sighing, I put the watch back into the box. My mother, I swear sometimes. Yes, the watch is not flashy. It’s actually one I looked at myself. However, the watch costs about a hundred and fifty thousand dollars. I didn’t think it was a good idea to wear it at the clinic around low-income patients.

“Matteo, this is big, and it has your name and mine.” Amy pulls it out from under the tree where it’s tucked away.

“How did I miss her putting it under the tree?” I shake my head. “She is too devious. I don’t doubt one of the twins brought it up when I was laying into her about the whole art studio.”

CHAPTER 11

Matteo

Amy giggles. “Your mom played you like a violin.” Tearing off the paper, it’s a wooden chest. Carved into the top of the chest: Matteo and Amy’s Adventures

My heart pounds so loud I wonder if she can hear it. Our names together—like we’re a couple. I watch as she traces over the inscription. Does she know or understand what it means?

“I’m officially in love with your mom.” Her eyes are glowing. Opening the top drawer, she finds a card on top. With a big smile, she reads it: “Keep your hands busy.” Ooh, knitting needles and a bunch of crochet needles. What pretty yarn.”

I exhale in relief. “I told her I asked you what you liked to do so I could get gift ideas for you. She must have thought we both needed to find new hobbies.”

She pulls out two boxes. One is a car, and the other is an intricate castle. “Model building. Yeah, these are for you. I’m not interested in building models. Jigsaw puzzles, ooh, pretty scenes. Pottery class, this is for both of us. This would be so much fun. I’ve always wanted to try this. Can we please go?”

Her eyes are wide in pleading. Fuck me. If she ever finds out what her saying please does to my cock, I’m screwed all to hell. Pottery class doesn’t interest me, making her happy does.

I nod and hope like hell it isn’t as bad as I always thought it would be.

“Yay, thank you. Okay, next drawer. Holy crap, do you know how much this camera costs? And this is put in here as something you or I might be interested in. Rich, rich.”

She shakes her head. “For the record, I would love to use this. Please? To take pictures of things I could maybe paint.”

“It’s yours.” I look in the drawer. “A folding fishing rod and reel? Nope, not interested in that either. A cooking class? This sounds like fun.”

She takes the card from me. “This is cool. We can pick what to make. It’s just us, so we don’t have a group of people. And it ends with us eating it as a night or afternoon out. I like that. Can we do it?”

“Sure. You tell me when, and we’ll do it.” Her sheer happiness is making my cock hard. She’s so beautiful I could simply stare at her for hours.

Opening the next drawer, her eyes go big. She chuckles. “Get moving. Twelve yoga classes, private again. I could do this. I took a few classes with my roommate and liked it. But I always worried about being fat in front of other people.”

“Hey, don’t say that. Please.” I work to keep my voice even. “We talked about it.”

Her face falls. “I’m sorry. I…I don’t like thinking of myself like that. It’s just what I’ve heard for so many years.” She shrugs sadly. “I’ll try.”

Catching her chin, I bring her face up to mine. “I’m sorry. Internalizing the outside is common. It’s not easy to ignore if you hear it from the media and people around you treating you differently or calling you that. But it’s bullshit. You’re a beautiful woman. Whether you’re a size eighteen, bigger or smaller. I don’t like hearing anyone, including you, put you down in any way. Okay?”

She nods as she blinks back tears. “Thank you.”

“I don’t deserve any thanks, but you’re welcome.” All I want is to take her into my arms, to show her I find her absolutely stunning. Except she’s not ready for it, so I let her go.

Layla squeals for attention. “Hey, sweetie, I think someone is tired and needs a nap.”

“Okay, but not yet. We have to finish finding out what is in here.” She turns back to the chest.

“Some golf balls.” I shrug. “I could get out on the green with my brothers. They don’t hate it. I’ve only ever gone to a miniature golf course a few times when I was a teenager with my brothers.”

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