Page 122 of Single Malt Drama

Her shy grin told me she’d suspected the same thing. “I still have morning sickness, but it isn’t too bad. I’m also exhausted, starving, and seriously horny, but all of that can wait until after we’ve had our talk.”

“We can talk while you eat, or I eat you…”

She smacked my arm. “It’s rude to talk with your mouth full.”

God. This woman. What did I do to deserve her?I forced thoughts of my face between her legs from my head and went for a serious topic. “All of this stress isn’t good for the baby.”

“I know. I promise to take it easy as soon as things settle.”

“We have no clue when that will be. You’ll take it easy starting now.” I kissed the tip of her nose.

“It’s official. You’re the Marchionni capo. You did great in there today. I’m proud of you, but you need to watch out for Salvo—”

“Nic…” I sighed and brushed her hair from her face. “Let me worry about business.”

“Don’t start treating me like I’m made of porcelain. I’m pregnant, not fragile.”

I held my hand up in mock surrender. “Sweetheart, I didn’t mean forever, just for the next hour. I’m smart enough to know I need that brilliant mind of yours. I feel like I jumped into the shark tank, and I have no freaking idea how to swim.”

She sighed. “You’ll learn…in time.”

“Like I said earlier, I know you don’t want to be a mafia wife, and you’re worried the business will change me. I’m going to get us out. I swear.”

“I’m not upset. I understand your ass was against the wall.”

“Back. My back was against the wall.” Laughing, I cupped her butt and pulled her hips against mine. “But now that you mention it, I wouldn’t mind putting your ass against the wall.”

Nico made a purring sound in the back of her throat that went straight to my dick. “I like the sound of that.”

“But…you need sleep.” I’d said the responsible thing, but I couldn’t hide the fact I was rock hard.

She wiggled closer. “We have time for a quickie.”

“No sex until after your nap.” Once again, I’d said the right thing, but my body hadn’t gotten the memo. I caught myself grinding against her like a teenager on his parents’ couch.

She whispered, “Are you sure?”

I jerked my hips back and cleared my throat. “Yes, we have some decisions to make. Like, where do we want to live?”

Personally, I had no idea where we’d end up. My place in the French Quarter was a full-on bachelor pad, not exactly conducive for raising a family.

“You’ll need to be close to Palermo until things settle, but I’d rather make our permanent home in New Orleans.”

“Same here. I want our kid as far away from Sicily as possible.” I frowned. “What about your mom? Do you want her to live with us?”

“That you thought to ask means a lot, but not really. I’d like to set a room up for her for when she visits, but her family is in Sicily.”

I blew out a sigh of relief. “Thank Christ.”

Nico curled against me and closed her eyes. Less than a minute later, she’d drifted off to sleep, complete with soft, girly snores.

For the first time since I’d left the bayou, I took a quick inventory of my life. Married to the woman of my dreams, baby on the way, two awesome new in-laws. As for my job, I might be a little fish swimming with apex predators, but my brothers were free. After the previous forty-eight hours, I’d take that as a win.

Not bad, Marchionni. Not bad at all.

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