Page 110 of Mafia And Maid
“You bet. If it’s alright with your mom.”
Ethan’s face swings to Rosa. “Please, Momma?”
“Ethan, honey…”
“Please?” he tries again. “I’ll be really good. You can join us too!”
“I don’t want to inconvenience you,” she says to me.
“Not possible. It’ll be fun.”It’ll be fun?What the fuck was that, and where had it come from? When have fun and kids ever been associated with me? I blatantly ignore Marco’s unhinged jaw as I stare back at Rosa.
“Okay, sure,” she murmurs softly.
I watch as her gaze drops to the table and that adorably shy smile lights her face. “Great. I’ll take care of everything.” And I start to make a plan inside my mind, determined to make this the best goddamn sleepover Ethan’s ever seen.
I look across at Rosa again, and a small smile sparks in her eyes.
The way she looks at me… My chest does that weird squeeze, and I swallow back the lump in my throat. I don’t deserve that look, but damn if I don’t want to try to be worthy of it.
CHAPTER 27
ROSA
Ethan’s little body snuggles closer into my side as I flip yet another page ofPeter Pan. He’s engrossed in the story as always, and I cherish these moments. A warm bed, food in his belly, and a boy whose smiles light up the room once again.
Safety.
A feeling of love.
Two things I didn’t think we’d ever get again.
My voice falters, clogging with emotion. I don’t want to think about any of this—about what’s next, about how we’re going to have to eventually move on from the generous offer laid out before us because it can’t possibly be real.
Clearing my throat, I launch once more into the perilous adventure of the lost boys, placing a small kiss on the top of Ethan’s freshly washed hair. He looks adorable in his white pajamas with pale blue teddy bears all over them—it’s one of the sets Camillo insisted on getting for him when Ethan first arrived.
A knock at the door pulls my attention, and I look up to see Camillo leaning there. My breath stutters out as I watch him standing there with his shoulder braced against the doorframe.
His hands are tucked into the pockets of his jeans as a soft smile graces his face. It lessens the harsh frowns and brooding expressions that he normally wears. It makes him look more angelic than monstrous. The real Camillo, the one he doesn’t think anyone can see.
“Am I interrupting?”
“We’re readingPeter Pan,” Ethan squeals. “Momma was just getting to the best bit.” The body that was just nestled against mine, clambers toward the end of the bed with his stuffed bear as a sword. “Do you likePeter Pan, Uncle Millo?”
Camillo rubs the back of his neck and shrugs. “Haven’t read it. I watched the movie, though.”
“There’s a movie?”
I nod, placing the book on my lap, my index finger saving our spot. This month’s obsession is pirates. Anything and everything pirates. My lips tug up as Ethan attempts to speak like a pirate before falling into a soft pile of giggles.
“Sounds like you’re having fun.”
“Momma’s the best at reading.”
“Is she now?”
“Uh huh.” Ethan nods as he sits back up. While he still sometimes tucks himself behind my leg or tries to be as small and unnoticeable as possible with the others, it's different when Camillo’s in the room. They have some unspoken connection.
A connection that melts me on the spot whenever I see it.