by Bethany-Kris
“Forgot my sauce.”
“Well, get it and get out. We were having a nice non-male involved conversation before you came in.”
Dante could see the humor glittering in his wife’s gaze, but he still acted offended. “This is my house!”
“My kitchen,” Catrina retorted. “The only things you own in this room is your shelf in the fridge, your chair at the table, and that ugly coffee cup in the cupboard. Now get out.”
Damn it. It was like growing up in his parents’ home all over again.
“Besides, Dante, are you interested in having a discussion on the postpartum side of pregnancy?”
Dante cringed. Nope, he most certainly was not interested.
“Later, ladies.”
Laughter followed him as he grabbed the container he needed from the fridge and made a hasty exit. There were some conversations men did not need to have or be a part of. That was one of them.
Dante was not getting caught up in that mess.
• • •
Dante fell into the lawn chair, taking the beer he was offered by Lucian and handing over the container of sauce as he sat. As his brother made the move to go towards the house, Dante muttered, “I wouldn’t do that, man.”
Lucian turned, brow lifting. “Why?”
“They’re a particular brand of their special kind of nasty today.”
“But … my whiskey is in your freezer. I can’t make whiskey chicken with no whiskey, Dante.”
“Not my kitchen,” Dante replied, repeating his wife’s words. “You should have put it on my shelf in the fridge. And guessing from Catrina’s spiel this morning before you guys got here, she’s this close to labeling the damn shelf. So hey, pretty soon you won’t even have to guess which one is mine.”
Gio chuckled at Dante’s left. “She’s just like Mom.”
Dante scowled. “Don’t say that shit. It really screws with my head. There’s nothing sexy about that thought.”
“What, like you married your moth—”
“I said don’t fucking say it!”
Lucian didn’t even try to hide his amusement. “They get worse and worse every time they all get together in the same room. I swear to fuc—” His eyes cut to his son running across the lawn with a miniature wooden baseball bat in hand. “—fudging God they feed off one another.”
“Like Johnathan doesn’t know the word fuck,” Gio said, scoffing.
Dante popped the top off his beer, tossed the cap into a steel can, and took a long swig. “Truth.”
“Because you taught it to him, Gio,” Lucian grumbled. “Jordyn still doesn’t believe me when I tell her that, by the way.”
“Hey, at least I had the insight to teach him how to use it properly. Give me credit where it’s due.”
“That’s not the point, Gio. Besides, you ought to curb your own mouth, considering …” Lucian trailed off, shooting a pointed glance at the baby boy snuggled into his youngest brother’s chest.
Gio shrugged, his hand rhythmically patting Andino’s bottom to keep him asleep. “I’ve still got time before I need to worry. Should have known your kid was going to pick up some bad habits off me eventually, man.”
Dante shook his head, still disbelieving that Giovanni was a father to a nine-week-old son. It wasn’t that Gio was a bad father, because he wasn’t. He was great, actually, and that was a little surprising, too. Maybe it shouldn’t have been, but shit, it was Gio.
Gio was the biggest mess of the three brothers growing up. There was no self-control or restraint. His attitude towards life in general was frightening at times. If someone would have told Dante his younger brother would grow the fuck up, settle the hell down, and be a dad—a great one who was totally enamoured and in love with his son—he might not have believed it back then.
A father. Gio was a father. A dad.
Kind of crazy.
“Baseball!” Johnathan shouted repeatedly the closer he came to Lucian. “I wants baseball, Papà!”
“You want to play baseball,” Lucian corrected.
Johnathan’s foot stomped into the ground. “I says that!”
Lucian sighed. “You need the ball, too. Go find it and we’ll play.”
Johnathan dropped the bat to the ground and turned on his heel at the same time, running back towards the garage where all the outside toys were kept. Once the kid was out of sight, Dante turned back to his younger brother.
“When’s your next one coming?” Dante jokingly asked Gio.
Gio smirked. “It’s not. I got clipped at Andino’s two week checkup. One and done, Dante.”
“Seriously?” Lucian asked.
“Yeah. Did it right in the doctor’s office. If you don’t watch, it’s not that bad.”
“No, I mean, you’re done having kids altogether?”
“I just said that, Lucian. Clean out your fucking ears.”
Dante was confused as hell. “But you’re a great dad.”
Gio waved the comment off. “So I’ll be great to only Andino. One felt right. Kim and I are fine with stopping at him.”
Quiet childish murmurings and giggles coming from the baby monitor beside Dante stopped him from questioning Gio further. Knowing Catrina was thoroughly enjoying herself inside with the other girls, Dante didn’t want to interrupt his wife to go fetch Michel from his nap. Excusing himself, he slipped back into the house and trekked upstairs to find his nearly two-year-old adopted son bouncing up and down in his crib.
He probably should have been out of the damn thing by now and into a toddler bed, but Michel was too curious for his own good and got into everything.
“What are you doing, piccolo?” Dante asked, picking the brown-eyed boy up.
“Out, Papà.”
“Come see Daddy, Michel.”
The big grin his son sported at merely being in the presence of his father warmed Dante instantly. There were so many things in life Dante thought he would have to live without—the child in his arms being one; the woman downstairs with his last name who he loved entirely being two.
After all, if he couldn’t offer a woman the normal things that came along with love and marriage, what did he really have to give?
Not a lot.
Dante couldn’t have been more wrong.
It had always been a wonder of Dante’s how his father Antony never treated Lucian any differently from his other sons. It wasn’t that he thought his father loved Lucian in a lesser way, but maybe that it couldn’t possibly be the same as the children he helped create.
Again, Dante was crazy wrong.
For Catrina and Michel, Dante lived. No one else gave him those feelings or that desire. No one in the world could bring forth the almost possessive need to protect, cherish, and love like his wife and son.
And Michel … God, Michel.
All brown eyes, blond hair, and little fingers waving.
Every little inch of him was amazing.
The child may not have shared Dante’s blood or his genes, but he sure as hell shared everything else. From the moment he held the boy for the first time, Dante didn’t care about what might have been, or could have been. He let his lingering anger towards his wife for her lies go—he loved.
More than he ever thought possible, he loved.
“Guess who’s here?” Dante asked his son while he changed Michel’s clothes into something suitable for playing outside. “Uncle Lucian … Johnathan … and—”
“Kunckle Gio!”
Dante laughed. There was something about Gio the kids adored. It was probably his lack of a filter and the fact everyone was always giving him shit for something or other, much like the kids. Gio was also uninhibited in basically everything he did, so fun was a guarantee whenever he was involved.
Tugging on Michel’s pants, and putting on a pair of small Adidas sneakers, Dante set his son down to the floor. Michel was out of the room in a flash, tiny feet smacking all the way down the hall. Dante ran to catch up, keeping close as his boy maneuver
ed his way down the stairs.
Dante was just passing the kitchen and happened to notice his wife wasn’t sitting at the table with Kim and Jordyn. He let Michel go on ahead, waiting as his son pulled open the porch doors and disappeared outside.
“Where’s Cat?” Dante asked, popping inside the kitchen.
Jordyn looked up from her phone. “You didn’t see her upstairs?”
“No.”
“That’s where she went, I guess. Something about a load of clothes in the washer.”
Dante nodded and slipped back out of the kitchen. He didn’t make his way outside, though. Instead, he went in search of his wife. Catrina was anal about keeping the house clean, laundry managed, and everything in order, but never on the days when their family was there. Something felt off, so he followed his gut.
Sure enough, the laundry room upstairs was empty. The attached bathroom to their master bedroom, however, was not. The anxious stare Catrina wore mixed in with her teeth chewing on her bottom lip said Dante was correct in thinking something might be wrong.
“What’s up?” Dante asked his wife, leaning in the doorway.
Catrina sat on the edge of the tub, her hands hidden in her lap. “I can’t check it.”
“Huh?”
A thin piece of pink and white plastic flashed in the air before it vanished under Catrina’s hands in her lap. Understanding dawned on Dante. He wasn’t entirely sure what to say to ease her nerves.
That evening his wife had asked him to have the sperm viability testing done so they could know if more children were possible started the ball rolling. For Dante, the procedure was simple, if not a little awkward. He expected the same results he’d received before: sterile, no viable sperm, and absolutely no chance of producing children in the future.
A third time to add to his list of things he was wrong about.
The results weren’t exactly good, but it wasn’t a definite no like before, either. Would the old-fashioned way work? Probably not. After going over what could be done to help everything along, Dante and Catrina decided on a selective procedure. The healthiest sperm were collected and stored, which took a great deal of time to retrieve a decent amount. During a fertile period, they were inseminated directly into the womb, closer to the spot they needed to be to get the job done.
Dante hated it. For him, it was uncomfortable to have repeat sessions with his palm only to hand it over for a specialists to look at his spunk under a microscope. For his wife, it was invasive to have those same people demanding she take shots of hormones and playing around in her uterus.
For months they tried … and nothing.
The standard procedure was for Catrina to begin using home pregnancy tests as soon as the test would possibly show a pregnancy. That could be up to five days before her first missed cycle.
Hence, the test hidden in Catrina’s lap.
Still, he was surprised to see her holding a pregnancy test at all. After all this time of disappointment, he told his wife to stop testing and wait to see if her cycles came naturally. It was emotionally draining to get excited over and over only to be let down again and again.
Dante frowned, tensing up. An argument with his wife was not high on his important-shit-to-do list. “I thought we talked about this.”
“I know we did,” Catrina whispered. “But the girls were talking downstairs about things. It got me thinking and it nagged at me. I haven’t checked at all this month, Dante. I’m not late yet. I’m only one day early, but I haven’t checked once.”
“You said you weren’t going to at all,” he replied quietly.
“I couldn’t help it.”
“Listen, Cat, I love Michel.”
Catrina’s head popped up, her eyes flying wide. “I know you do!”
“No, I just mean I love that boy.” Dante stepped further into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him in case someone came upstairs and accidentally overheard their conversation. While his fertility problems were known to his brothers, Dante didn’t openly discuss what he and his wife were doing to try and fix the issues. “He’s my boy, you know?”
“Yeah, I know.”
“Okay, so just know that I’m fine with only him, too.”
Catrina’s chewing on her bottom lip started up again. “You’re sure?”
“Absolutely. I don’t want to keep doing these procedures and putting you and me through hell every month emotionally and physically when we really don’t need to. We’ve got our son. He’s healthy, happy, and perfect. He is so loved. Who fucking cares if he’s not mine biologically?
“This is the last time I want to see one of those things in my house,” Dante continued, waving at the piece of plastic poking out in Catrina’s hand. “I don’t want to keep doing this for nothing. We tried. It didn’t work. It’s over. I’m fine with that. Michel is enough for me, Cat. He is.”
“There’s still the IVF option, too,” Catrina said. “It’s better odds.”
Dante sighed heavily. “Is that something you want to go ahead with?”
“Not really. I figured if this didn’t work, it didn’t.”
“Okay, so let it be, Amore. We have our boy. He’s enough for us. Right?”
“Okay, you’re right. I know you’re right.” Catrina stood from the edge of the tub and set the pregnancy test facedown to the countertop. “Last time, I promise.”
Then, she did nothing.
“Still can’t check it?”
“Nope. Probably because I know it is the last time. That makes it even more final. It’s hurt enough, bello.”
“We could throw it away and forget about it,” Dante suggested.
“Yeah, right.” Catrina scoffed. “And then one of us will be back up here digging through the fucking garbage can in five minutes. Just look at the damn thing for me.”
Dante laughed, reaching out to grab his wife by the shoulders and pull her into his embrace. Catrina buried her face into his chest and immediately relaxed. It reminded him of all the reasons why he loved his wife in one simple action.
Catrina was one hell of a strong woman. She was feisty as fuck, took no shit off no man, could handle herself in some of the most frightening situations and wouldn’t blink a lash. Give her a knife in room full of guns and trust that she’d get the job done, regardless of the bullets flying.
She was tough—tougher than most men Dante had working under him. She was cartel born in a Cosa Nostra ruled world who taught herself how to be the Queen. She stood at his side in business and pleasure, and he didn’t give a flying shit what any man in the room thought about it. She earned her place better than any of them ever had.
But … she was also a wife, mother, a woman, his lover, and his best friend. She was soft as cotton under that sharp-as-glass exterior. There were tears he wiped from her face that no one else would ever see. Protection, connection, and love were the things she asked for and also provided. Sometimes, it was just the simple act of his hand in hers that she needed because she’d been raised in an environment where things like that were not given freely, if at all.
In Dante’s world, in his home and to the Cosa Nostra family he ruled, Catrina was his queen. And no matter what, she would always be. He would make damn sure of that above all else. It was the least of what she deserved.
They were not good people; they didn’t pretend to be. They could be ruthless and cruel; they were lawless and merciless.
That was just their life.
But goddamn it, he wouldn’t want to share it with any other woman.
Only his Cat.
“Love you,” Dante murmured into the crook of his wife’s neck.
“Love you,” she echoed.
Holding Catrina tighter, Dante kissed her neck and silently flipped over the pregnancy test behind her back. At first glance, there was only one line staring back up at him. Dante heaved a breath at the finality seeping through his body and didn’t give the result anymore of his attention.
There was no sadness over th
e negative. No regrets over the testing and procedures. No doubts about the choice to discontinue their efforts to have another child. Having Michel was enough for them. Nothing changed that fact. Nothing ever would.
Catrina hugged Dante’s middle tighter. “Negative?”
Dante plucked the test up, about to confirm his wife’s question, but something stopped him. It was crazy faint—too weak to be seen in the dimly lit bathroom with just the passing glance Dante had given the test at first.
Dante’s arm wrapped around his wife’s shoulders tightened. He distinctly remembered the doctors being very clear about the tests. It didn’t matter how faint the line was, just that there was one visible to the naked eye. Being faint simply meant there wasn’t a highly concentrated amount of hormones in the urine but regardless, the test still picked a hint of the hormones up.
It was still a positive.
Dante laughed. The sound started somewhere in his chest and rumbled outwards. “Holy shit.”
“What?”
Catrina turned fast in his arms, her hands splaying out to the counter on either side of the test when Dante set it back down.
“Look,” he ordered, excitement rolling thick. “Oh my God, Cat. Look at that.”
Catrina’s breath caught. “There’s two.”
“Yeah.”
“Oh my fucking God!”
Catrina repeated the words as she twisted back in Dante’s embrace and kissed him hard. The joy sweeping through Dante’s veins was all-consuming. Next to falling in love with Catrina and then again falling hard for Michel, nothing had ever felt quite so fucking amazing before.
“What I said about Michel still stands,” Dante murmured, holding his wife’s face in his hands. “I meant that, Cat.”
“I know. It makes this even better. God, there’s so much I have to do. The clinic will want me to call and make an appointment so they can confirm it through blood—”
Dante shut her up with another kiss. “No.”
“No?”
“No,” he repeated firmly. “I’m sure you have a dozen more of those goddamn tests hidden somewhere. Take another, but we both know what it’ll say. For now, let’s just enjoy this, Cat. Privately without the doctors and all their nonsense. Please just let us enjoy this together for as long as we can, even if it’s only a few days.”