Page 186 of Diego

“More so than usual.” Diego looks toward me. “And how was your afternoon?”

“Your babysitter performed admirably.”

Victoria laughs.

Diego gives me a long look. “I knew that word was going to come back to haunt me.”

“You should have thought about that before using it.”

“I merely arranged company.”

“That is a load of bull,” I say in the same pleasant tone.

His mouth curves, but he has enough sense not to argue the point further. “Fine. Did you enjoy being supervised?”

“Immensely.”

Victoria glances between us. “I’m beginning to see why the two of you get along.”

Diego looks at her. “I'm not quite sure that was a compliment.”

“It was.”

Before he can answer, movement on the floor catches my attention.

Leonardo stretches beneath the blanket, his little face scrunching as he wakes. One hand appears first, then the other, and after several seconds of blinking, he pushes himself into a sitting position with his hair flattened on one side.

The look on Diego's face changes and turns into something I've never seen before.

The amusement stays, but everything else softens as he crosses the room and crouches beside the blanket. Leonardo stares at him through sleepy eyes for half a second before recognition hits. His entire expression brightens, and both arms come up.

“Zio!” the little boy exclaims.

Diego smiles.

Not the polished smile he uses when he is charming someone. Not the grin he gives me when he knows he is being irritating. This is warmer and completely unguarded.

“Ciao, piccolo.”

Leonardo makes an excited sound and leans forward so abruptly that Diego has to catch him.

He does it without hesitation, one hand sliding around the boy’s middle while the other steadies his back. Then he lifts him easily and settles him against his chest. Leonardo immediately hooks one arm around Diego’s neck and presses his sleepy face against his shoulder as if this is a routine they have repeated hundreds of times.

It probably is.

I knew Diego would be good with children.

There was never any reason to think otherwise. He comes from a family where babies change hands as casually as dishes loaded with food. He has been an uncle as long as his oldest nephew. None of this should surprise me.

Seeing it is different.

Diego sits on the sofa with Leonardo still against him and rubs one broad hand slowly over the little boy’s back. He murmurs something in Italian to the boy, and they both laugh.

Leonardo reaches for Diego’s face and plants one small hand directly over his mouth.

Diego kisses his palm. Leonardo laughs.

The sound is enough to make Diego laugh too, and suddenly the sleepy little boy is much more awake. He shifts on Diego’s lap and starts babbling with great seriousness about something none of us understand. Diego listens anyway, nodding at appropriate intervals as though Leonardo is explaining an important business matter.