Page 140 of Thin Lives

After she’d fucked him dry, licked him clean, and did it all over again.

He asked.

They had always been a little dirty like that, anyway.

He loved that the best, too.

Two Months Later …

Calisto knocked on the door marked with a large, white satin bow, and took a single step back. He shifted the weight of Cross on his hip, letting the nine-month-old toddler chew on the very tip of his tie. He figured it didn’t matter much if Cross wrinkled it, considering it would be hidden by his jacket for most of the day, and underneath his vest.

He was more a dress shirt, tie, and slacks kind of man. He liked his leather shoes, sure, and cuff links weren’t half bad, either.

But for the most part, he didn’t do the three piece suit thing.

Today, Calisto did.

Today was important, though.

“Baaa, maaaa, gaaa, baaa, daaa,” Cross babbled, grinning a mostly toothless smile. He had a few teeth, all in the front, but his back ones were being stubborn. “Daa, daa, daaaa.”

Calisto glanced down the hallway, noting a few guests waiting to be let into the main floor of the venue so they could find a seat and sit down. Some looked his way at the loud babbling of his son.

As much as it pained Calisto to do it, he corrected Cross for the benefit of other ears that might be listening. “Zio, little man.”

“Daaa.”

Calisto sighed. “Yeah.”

It was harder on him than he thought, but it was for his son’s best interests, and Emma’s, that they keep all that had happened a secret. And so, what people knew were the details they stuck to, and didn’t allow anyone to dig any further into

Cross had a father—Affonso Donati—the bastard who had run off, abandoned his Cosa Nostra family, left his young wife with signed divorce papers, and a young baby and two step-daughters to look after. He had done so without a word to anyone, and Calisto was left cleaning up the mess.

Or, that’s how the story went.

It allowed Cross the ability to grow up without being looked at as the product of an affair, as a literal betrayal in the flesh. He would never be looked down upon because of how he had been brought into the world. He would be loved and adored all the same, with a mother and step-father, who was also his uncle to the outside world, that would raise him together, as he deserved.

And Emma … Emma would never be called a whore, or mocked because of mistakes they had made together. She would never be shamed for birthing a child that belonged to a man who wasn’t her husband.

She would still be respected as Calisto’s wife.

Because he was marrying her.

Today.

It was such an important day.

Balancing Cross on his hip once more, Calisto knocked again on the door, wondering why no one was answering. That time, he heard the heels click across the floor, and a smile instantly began to grow on his face even before she swung it open to reveal who was interrupting her time.

Emma’s eyes flew wide at the sight of Calisto and Cross waiting for her. The fitted, lace mermaid style wedding gown she wore was a blush cream and tight to every one of her curves. Calisto couldn’t stop his wandering gaze if he tried.

“You’re not supposed to be here!” she whispered.

Calisto’s gaze snapped back up to hers, and his grin deepened into a smirk. “Weren’t we in bed together last night?”

Emma reached out and smacked a hand over his mouth, quieting him instantly. He laughed under her sweet smelling palm, and kissed her skin. With a small smile, and happy eyes, she let him go, reaching for her son. Cross’s arms were already wide and wanting his mother.

“Maaa, maaa,” the baby babbled.