Page 80 of The Deal

“He adores you right back, maybe more than I’m comfortable with.”

“You don’t want him to adore me?” she asks, scrunching up that cute little nose of hers.

“You haven’t noticed those little cartoon eyes he gets every time he looks at you? Because I have.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“True story,amore mio.”

Her plump lips curve up at the corners. “Are you jealous of a five-year-old, Mr Mancini?”

“I don’t like anyone crushing on my woman, even if it’s my son.”

“Your woman?” she asks, raising her perfectly sculpted brows.

I frown, my gaze hardening as I look down at her. “You’re my woman, Chloe,” I growl.

The tree is up, and Chloe and Giovanni spent most of the morning threading popcorn onto long lengths of string, which they have draped through the branches. They are now making paper chains with colourful strips of paper.

“Should we count the links as we staple them together?” Chloe asks.

“No. I hate counting,” Giovanni replies.

“You do?”

“Yeah, numbers suck donkey’s balls.” Her eyes flicker to me, and she winces when he says that.

I raise an eyebrow, my gaze sharp and unspoken, signalling that once again, she’ll face the consequences for teaching my son profanity. A punishment I’m certain that she’ll enjoy, and the faint flush creeping up her neck only confirms what I already suspected.

“I love numbers,” Chloe tells him.

“You do?” he asks, surprised.

“Yes.”

“I can count to a hundred,” he boasts proudly.

“You can?”

“Yes. You can quiz me if you like.”

“Okay, what number comes after twenty-three?”

“Twenty-four,” he replies without missing a beat.

“Fifty-six?”

“Fifty-seven.”

“Seventy-four?”

“Seventy-five.”

“Ninety-eight?”

“Ninety-nine.”

She raises her hand to give him a high five. “I’m impressed,” she says.

---