Page 5 of Unruly

“You tell Ma, then.”

Cece’s eyes narrowed. “I wills!”

“Okay,” he said seriously.

His daughter huffed, and stomped a heeled foot to the floor once more before she turned and darted back down the hall. Over her shoulder, he heard her say, “Gonna has a baby brudder.”

Once the little hellion was out of sight, Cross stood back to his full six-foot-three height. He rolled his eyes at his father’s chuckles.

“That was the best conversation between you two yet,” Calisto said before cackling. “I was waiting for her to ask something about where a baby brother comes from if not the shop.”

“You all get too much enjoyment of that kid and her antics.”

“Yes, and I thank God every single day that you had a daughter like her, Cross. You can’t possibly understand how much joy this brings me that she is your very own wild child.”

“Oh, I think I can,” Cross muttered.

“How are you going to explain the whole baby brother topic to Catherine?”

Cross shrugged, grinning. “Well, frankly I was going to let Cece open the topic up because I’m not against it.”

Calisto sobered. “Ah, well then, I see.”

“Things are just … busy.”

“This life always is.”

“I wanted to wait for a better time.”

Calisto’s lips curved at the edges a little. “And yet, it seems like there is never a better time, huh?”

“Not really. One of us is always on the go. Things are always coming up.”

“Cece still came along, didn’t she?”

Cross laughed under his breath. “Yeah, but not because we expected her to. We never even talked about it, really, just … didn’t decide not to have a child.”

“Have you talked to Catherine since she’s been in Italy?”

“A couple of times. I missed her calls today. She didn’t answer when I called back.”

His wife had to come and go a lot given her position as the right-hand to her mother—a very successful Queen Pin dealing drugs to the rich, famous, and anyone who couldn’t afford a scandal. Sometimes Catherine spent three weeks out of the month at home, and the next she might only be there a week or more. Cece often traveled with Catherine, if it was safe, as she preferred to be with her mother when she was gone for long spells of time.

It was difficult.

It made life even busier.

They still loved.

“Not sure how to bring the topic of more children into the conversation given she’s been home all of fourteen days this month,” Cross said with a sigh.

“You’ll get it figured out,” Calisto replied.

“Eventually.”

Their conversation quieted as his little principessa, her mother’s mini-me and the blood taken straight from his veins, came back around the corner. His mother, Emma, was right on her heels with a pink, princess-decaled duffle bag in hand.

Cross took the bag from his mother, and kissed her cheek. “Hey, Ma.”