As if on cue, Vince pops out of the kitchen, smiling. His hair is slightly disheveled from sleep and he wears a grey shirt with pajama bottoms. He looks ridiculously sexy in it. Hell, he looks sexy in anything. I smile at him, idly running my thumb over the base of the wedding band on my left hand.
“Breakfast is ready,” he says.
“Daddy!” says Ethan, who unwraps himself from me and goes to stand defiantly in front of Vince. “I want to cook.”
Vince kneels, smiling and pushing back Ethan’s hair. “You want to cook? Come on. You can help me make the toast.” He picks up Ethan and gives him a serious look. “But toast is the hardest part, okay? You’ve got to listen real close and do exactly as I say.”
Ethan’s face sobers and he nods. “Yes, daddy.”
Vince taps him on the nose. “Good. Now the first step is…”
I pick up Sophie and hug her to me. I enjoy the cuddles while I can get them. Ethan never let me cuddle him at her age, and Sophie only allows it in the mornings. I carry her to the balcony and look out over our view. We live upstate now, and have an amazing view of the river outside our house.
A few minutes later, Vince joins me, wrapping his arms around my waist. I feel Ethan’s little hands on my calf. I turn to kiss Vince. His lips are soft and the scruff on his face tickles mine.
“Yuck!” says Ethan.
Vince’s cell rings, and he kisses me one more time before moving to lean against the counter. “Yeah? Okay. We’ll be there by ten.”
“Who was that?” I ask when Vince hangs up the phone.
“Jimmy. He said Ma and Pops have a surprise for us. Do you think Aria would want to watch the kids on short notice?”
I purse my lips. “Something tells me…” Then I let my face break into a grin. He smiles back. We both know she’s absolutely wild about Ethan and Sophie. We practically have to beat her away from the doorstep with brooms every other day. “She’s probably waiting outside right now with the engine running, just incase.”
Fifteen minutes later, I hear Aria let herself in. Ethan looks up from his toys and runs toward the door. Sophie follows close behind. I move to Vince and give him a quick hug for no other reason than because I can, and that still hasn’t gotten old.
“Aria!” yells Ethan.
“Arra,” mimics Sophie.
I hear Aria’s excited squeals and a barrage of kisses and giggles. Vince and I catch up with them in the foyer. As usual, Aria has a bag of goodies for the babies to keep them busy. After I give her a kiss on the cheek and thank her again, Vince and I finish getting ready and then head to his parents’ house.
There are dozens of cars outside, and I notice Vince is a little on edge when he sees. “The hell?” he asks.
I’ve been around long enough to know this isn’t normal. I still have some old dark passengers in my mind from when I was kidnapped, and I squeeze Vince’s arm a little too tight. He pulls me to his side, his large possessive hands smoothing my fears away like they always do. I breathe him in, feeling myself relax immediately. I’m with him. I’m safe.
We step inside together and are greeted by a small mob of friendly faces. Everyone takes a moment to slip from their conversations to pat Vince on the back like he’s won something or just to shake his hand and nod their heads. He looks just as confused as I am, so we keep walking through the house in a sort of daze. I distantly notice the main crowd follows us deeper into the house but waits upstairs as we descend to the den, where Pops usually hangs out.
Downstairs, Jimmy moves to pull Vince in for a hug. “You deserve this, boss,” he says. Then he looks to me and gives me an air kiss on the cheek. “You look great, hun.”
I’m focused on the strange sight of Vince’s dad sitting in a chair other than what is practically his throne at the head of the card table. He looks oddly small and vulnerable there. Vince freezes, catching some deeper meaning that isn’t immediately clear to me. One look at his face tells me it’s something big. He starts shaking his head slowly.
“Pops,” he says, moving to hug his father, who stands and gives him a long hug back. His mother moves to take the next hug and her eyes are watering.
What the hell is going on?
“You’re sure?” asks Vince.
His father nods and gestures toward the open chair. His chair. The chair that belonged to the head of the Citrione family.
Vince takes a few slow steps toward the chair, places his hands on the armrest, and then sits. The way the dusty sunlight catches behind him makes it look as though he’s some ancient king from an old story, beautiful and terrible. But the way he gestures for me with that mischievous smile of his is enough to melt me all over again. I go to him and he pulls me down on his lap, hugging me from behind and kissing my neck.