Page 214 of SINS & Riley
I love that he says this in a pitch-black theater. “And when exactly will you be showing me this mystery?”
“After the show.”
He kisses me, and popcorn rains down on us like confetti. Dillon and Mateo groan from the next row.
“Get a room!”
“Oh, I intend to,” Dante fires back, his grin absolutely wicked. “As soon as the doctor gives the all clear.”
We must’ve dozed off hard. When I blink awake, the theater is empty — well, almost. Just us and Boris snoring in the back like a freight train.
Dante looks unfairly gorgeous asleep. Dark lashes, jaw shadowed with a week’s worth of scruff, muscles loose for once. I almost feel guilty for waking him.
Almost.
I trail my hand across his chest. “Dante.”
“Hmm.” A groggy smile curves his mouth.
“It’s time.”
His eyes snap open, instantly sharp. “It’s time?”
I nod. “My water just broke.”
Of course I feel bad for the newly renovated seats. Who’s going to clean that up? Before I can dwell on it, Dante’s scooping me into his arms and whisking me away.
“Nobody panic,” he orders.
“No one’s panicking but you,” I mutter, clinging to his neck.
Boris is already bolting down the aisle as Dante barks orders. Primary and alternate routes, go-bags, contingency plans
“Hey, Mr. Control Freak. He knows.”
He growls and shoves me toward the waiting car. “Then he’d better move faster. My wife is not having this baby on the damn curb.”
At breakneck speed, we’re gone.
Six hours and thirty minutes later, she arrives.
Amelia Kennedy D’Angelo.
Seven pounds, two ounces of angelic perfection.
How someone so small can have a big, bad beast tangled helplessly around her little tiny finger is beyond me.
But the way he cradles her, breathes her in, and covers a whole head of newborn hair with soft kisses? Yeah. He’s gone.
And I absolutely melt.
Childbirth was next-level pain. It was worse than anything I could’ve imagined, short of a pirate sword straight up the vag.
But like every pain I’ve carried, on the other side of it waits everything I need.
Hope. Love.
Her.
