Dangerous Beauty: Part Three: This is War

by Hardin, Michelle

  Nathan raised his hand and waved his son over to him. Being the exceptionally smart nineteen-month-old that he was, Aleksandr knew exactly what the gesture meant. He clasped his little fingers around the red suspenders connected to his blue jeans, and ran over to him. Nathan took a minute to acknowledge how adorably his sons were dressed today—dark blue jeans, a perfectly tucked red and blue plaid button-down shirt with the sleeves folded to the elbow, red suspenders, and a pair of white sneakers—then he slipped right back into daddy mode, ready to asked his clever son why he was journeying to an area of the house that he knew was off limits to unaccompanied toddlers.

  When Aleksandr stood in front of the living room couch, where Nathan sat, a big Salerno smile spread across his face, revealing his deep dimples that were perfectly placed on his chubby cheeks. Nathan smirked and shook his head at his son. There was no way that cuteness would keep his little behind from being reprimanded. Nathan knew that smile; he’d invented it. Hell, he used it with Carter all the time.

  Nathan leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and clasping his hands together. “Aleksandr, do you remember what Mama and Papa told you about that hallway?”

  The look of innocence returned immediately, this time accompanied with an adorable bewildered expression. The kid was good … very good. Nathan was kind of proud.

  Aleksandr shook his head no and pointed to the little white gate that blocked off the area. “Hallway, Da-da,” he said. “The door—”

  “The gate,” Nathan corrected.

  “Gate,” he repeated. “It’s open, Da-da. Somebody open it.” He put his hands up and shrugged his shoulders in a gesture showing that he had no idea who the gate opener was.

  Even as the soft laughter of Kyle and Lucca sounded behind him, Nathan did not give in to his amusement. He needed to teach his son that lying was wrong, but the task was proving to be harder and harder with every one of their conversations.

  Nathan narrowed his eyes on the toddler. “Aleksandr, you opened it. I sat here and watched you.”

  He shook his head. “I not open it, Da-da.”

  “Yes you did, and you need to go close it please.”

  His brows furrowed in confusion. “Maksi?” he asked.

  “No, not Maksi. Sandr, go close the gate,” Maksim corrected from across the room.

  Nathan’s eyes shot over to Maksim—who’d been focusing hard on a puzzle—when his little munchkin voice sounded. He quickly looked over to the guys. “Did you hear it?” he asked them. “Did you hear how clearly he said the words? I’m not crazy, am I?”

  Nathan really needed to know because he felt like he was losing his mind. For the last couple of weeks Maksim’s language had been developing at a quicker pace than his brother’s—who’s language development was also very much ahead of his age—and he’d been saying full sentences. The first time he did it Nathan almost lost his mind. It scared him half to death hearing his one year old say a long sentence so clearly that they could understand it. He had been repeating something his mother had said, but it still freaked Nathan out.

  “Oh my God,” Kyle said with a frown on his face. “I jumped a little.”

  “That’s because you’re a … b-word that I’m not saying in front of the kids,” Lucca chuckled.

  Kyle shot him a glare right before his head was jerked back into place. “Jesus!” he yelled, turning to grab his daughter from beside him and holding her in the air. “Sofia Nicole! What did Papa tell you about pulling his hair?”

  Sofia’s brows knitted together in a frown as she waved her pink hair brush in her father’s face. “You keep moving!” she argued. “You have t–to be still, so I can braid your hair, Papa. Auntie Carter said be still, or you can’t have ice cream.”

  Nathan couldn’t stop the smile from spreading across his face. Sofia was so damn adorable. She dangled in the air above her father—in a little yellow sundress that complemented her deep olive skin tone perfectly—while kicking her legs.

  “Sofia, I understand you want Papa to be still, but pulling my hair is not the way to get my attention. Your Zia Carterina does not pull your hair, right? ”

  Her shoulders slumped a little and she stopped kicking her short legs. “No,” she whispered. “Zia says, ‘Please stop moving, Sofi.’”

  “Exactly. Now what do you say to Papa?”

  Her innocent sky-blue eyes brightened with her smile. “Sorry, Papa.”

  Kyle brought her back down and gave her kisses all over her face. “That’s my lady bug.”

  She giggled as he placed her feet back on the couch. “I make the boo-boo not hurt anymore, Papa.” She turned back to his head, placed one of her tiny hands on his nose, and the other on the back of his head, and pressed a soft kiss on his boo-boo. “All better, Papa” she whispered. She leaned over and looked into his eyes with a big grin on her face. “All better now?”

  Kyle chuckled. “Yes, lady bug. Papa feels much better now.”

  “Good,” she chirped. “I finish your hair, Papa. Then I will make Zio Wucca’s hair next, okay?”

  Wucca was Lucca. None one of the kids could get that L.

  Lucca laughed softly. “All right, sweetheart, you can brush my hair next.”

  “Then I can do Zio Natin hair, too, okay?” When she nodded to him, Nathan chuckled and nodded his head in agreement. Sofia had been obsessed with braiding hair ever since Carter’s friend had taught her how to braid her own, which she now did every morning after getting dressed.

  “Sandr, do you want me to brush your hair?” she asked

  Aleksandr’s face twitched in disgust. “No, Sofi!” A scowl fell over his face, and he had put extra emphasis on her name when he’d spoken.

  “Stop that,” Nathan reprimanded, giving him a light pat on his bottom. “Be nice to your cousin. Get your behind over there and close that gate.”

  Aleksandr scrambled as fast as his little legs would allow and did as Nathan had instructed.

  Aleksandr and Sofia just didn’t get along for some reason, but the adults knew the cousins loved each other. Maksim was always in the middle. He loved them both and they only played together when he played with them. He was the little peace maker.

  “Maksi,” Sofia called. “Do you want me to brush your hair, too?”

  Maksim was standing on the other side of the coffee table still focusing on his numbers puzzle. “No,” he struggled to say the next words, but then eventually said it well enough for them to understand, “thank you, Sofia. Ma-ma did my hair already.”

  Nathan shook his head in awe. “It still surprises me every time.”

  “I jumped a little again,” Kyle stated.

  Lucca chuckled. “Nathan, you knew there was a chance that your sons would be gifted. Your wife excelled academically as well.”

  “I know that, but I was not ready for what has taken place these last few weeks,” Nathan said. “They repeat everything we say. They read, and count—”

  Lucca’s squinted his eyes and shook his head in disbelief. “Bull. They’re one. One year olds don’t read and count.”

  Nathan raised his brows and nodded. If Lucca didn’t believe him, he’d just have to show him. He turned to his son, who had just returned to his side. “Aleksandr, spell your name for Papa.”

  Aleksandr’s eyes lit up with excitement. “I spell it, Da-da!” He bounced up and downe HeHHhwmdwlkckmcmSO[odkqosl while giggling, just as he always did when his mother taught him something new and he got to show Nathan. Then, with every letter he recited, he jumped in excitement. “A-L-E-K-S-A-N-D-R S-A-L-E-R-N-O! My name da-da.”

  “Good job, bambino.” Nathan lifted him onto his lap and smooched his chubby cheek. “Can you count for Papa?”

  Aleksandr stood up on Nathan’s lap and nodded his head. After he popped one finger in his mouth, he twisted the natural curls of his black hair with the other hand and counted all the way to ten.

  Nathan laughed softly. “Very good, bambino. What about in Italian?”

&n
bsp; Aleksandr bounced up and down, nodding his head enthusiastically. “Uno, due, tre …”

  A proud smile spread across Nathan’s face when his boy made it to ten effortlessly. “Now in French.”

  Aleksandr completed every task Nathan asked him to with a smile on his handsome little face. He recited his numbers up to ten in all of the languages he knew so far: English, Italian, French, Russian, and Arabic.

  Lucca held up his hand to Aleksandr, signaling for him to stop. “Okay, kid, now you’re just showing off. We get it, you’re a genius. Shut up already.”

  Both Aleksandr and Nathan started laughing. “Don’t be jealous, Lucca.”

  “Wucca!” Aleksandr screamed. “Dun be … jealous!” Aleksandr repeated the statement well enough for them to understand and Nathan laughed.

  “That’s right. You tell him, son.”

  While his brother was definitely more laid back most of the time, Aleksandr spent the majority of the day hyper until he crashed, which was usually only when his mother was around for him to cuddle with. But right now Nathan could barely keep him still in his lap. The toddler was climbing all over him. Up his chest, to his shoulder, and then on top of his head. Both Kyle and Lucca found it amusing.

  Nathan grabbed the little bundle of energy from off the top of his head and tossed him in the air. Aleksandr screamed and laughed hysterically. Soon his brother decided to join in on playtime as well, and ran over to Nathan, struggling to climb up on his lap.

  “Da-da me, too,” he whined. “Me, too.”

  It was times like these that Nathan was thankful that the twins were still so small. He didn’t even have to put one down to pick up the other. He reached forward and lifted Maksim with one hand, tossing both him and Aleksandr high in the air.

  If Nathan weren’t as coordinated as he was this would be a dangerous task. The trick was not to toss them too high and to never break contact with their little bodies. He was only able to throw them up a couple more times until the twins threw a curve ball and twisted and turned in his hands.

  “Whoa!” Nathan laughed, having to bring them back down to his lap.

  Before he could even say another word his sons began their playful attack. The little monsters growled and laughed as they attacked their poor father mercilessly. Nathan acted as if they were beating him, like he always did when they roughhoused.

  “Oh God no!” he cried in playful agony and fell back on the couch. “Ahh!”

  These were the moments he cherished the most with his sons. It was one of the things he loved most about being a father. Nathan remembered when he and his father would play like this, and he remembered how much those times meant to him as a child. His father would chase him through the house, or toss him around during one of their wrestling matches, all while his mother watched on tensely praying that he wouldn’t get hurt. They were some of the best moments of Nathan’s childhood. From roughhousing with his father when he was a small child, to challenging his father to a fighting match when he was a teen. Even now, Nathan was still trying to figure out a way to beat the old man.

  He wanted his boys to have that, too. He wanted his sons to remember times like these, and have them with their own children when they become men.

  With a loud roar, Nathan shot up from the couch. Aleksandr and Maksim screamed, clinging to Nathan tightly. Aleksandr was holding onto Nathans head, and Maksim was on his arm. He grabbed Maksim first, lifted him high in the air and—semi-gently—body slammed him on the plush sofa. Next was Aleksandr. Every time one twin was down, the other was lunging toward him. Nathan had no idea what the hell he was going to do when the little rugrats challenged his old ass to a fight in their teen years. There was no way he could keep up with two!

  Once they were both down for the count—still laughing hysterically—Nathan flexed his muscles, kissed his biceps on both arms, and then pounded his fists against his chest in an exaggerated, caveman display of his manliness.

  He pointed to his sons. “You should have known you wouldn’t win, bambinos.”

  They chuckled softly as Nathan leaned over them with a smirk on his face.

  “Now don’t go and feel bad about yourselves,” he teased. “Maybe one day you will be able to beat your papa—”

  Nathan’s words were cut off when his son—his own son, flesh of his flesh, a being that he created out of love—bitch-slapped him across his face. When the tiny hand hit his face all he heard was laughter. Lucca, Kyle, and Aleksandr lost it while Nathan stared at his little Maksim in shock. He could not believe his son, his sweet little boy had just slapped him across the face like that.

  “I cannot believe you just slapped me,” Nathan said through shocked laughter.

  Maksim grinned. “Ove you, Da-da,” he chirped innocently.

  Nathan shook his head in disbelief. Why the little … “Oh you love me, huh?” he shook his head again. “That’s not gonna get you off the hook, bambino.” Nathan didn’t want to have to do this, but he had no choice. His sons needed to be punished. It was wrong using such a thing against them, but he knew that if he didn’t, they would never see him as the manly alpha male of this family. “You both have given me no choice,” he sighed in mock sadness, right before he placed a hand on his sons’ tummies and tickled them mercilessly.

  They screamed and laughed so hard that their light brown skin turned red. Once he’d completed his attack to his satisfaction he resumed with the body slams on the couch.

  “Boys are so silly, Papa,” he heard Sofia say to Kyle.

  “We’re back! Aria made lunch for everyone.” Carter’s voice rang out at the entrance of the living room, but he didn’t stop, and neither did the boys.

  He heard Carter huff as she walked closer to them. “Nathan Salerno, I told you it scares me when you three play so rough …”

  The moment she stood at his side, Nathan turned his attack on her. It was wrong of him, but he knew the best way to get his boys to surrender was to use their mother. Carter’s high-pitched scream filled the room when he placed one hand on her waist and one to her belly then lifted her high above his head.

  “Nathan!” she squealed.

  He dropped one arm and held her up in the air with the other.

  “Ma-ma!” The twins screamed as they scrambled to stand to their feet, ready to rescue their mother. “No, Da-da! No,” they both yelled at him sternly.

  “You giant man! I swear to you if you don’t put me down—”

  “Say you surrender,” Nathan ordered his sons.

  They both gripped on to the front of his shirt as they jumped up and down screaming, “Wender! Wender!” It was the most adorable shit Nathan had ever seen.

  Nathan wanted to laugh, but instead he continued with his terms. “Say I’m the best daddy in the world and you love me more than cookies.”

  They said a lot of the words, just not in the same order as Nathan did. This amused everyone in the room.

  A victorious smile spread across Nathan’s face as he looked up at his obviously angry wife. “Hi baby. You look pretty today.”

  Even with the deadly scowl on her face she was a vision in jean shorts and a bright pink tank. She had a new hairdo—which Nathan was sure she had just gotten at the salon for the Pescatorre dinner tonight—that was a style he’d never seen her with before. Wavy and very beautiful. With his free hand he touched the ends of her soft hair.

  “I love it, baby. Did you have a good time dress shopping?”

  Her eyes squinted in anger. “Put me down, Salerno.”

  Nathan chuckled. “Not until you tell me you love me.” He needed her to remember that fact so she wouldn’t kick his ass in front of their kids.

  “Nathan—”

  “I won’t do it, woman! Not until you say it.”

  He gave her a stern look until she rolled her eyes. “Fine! I love you!”

  Nathan smiled, dropped Carter, and caught her in his arms. “Aww, I love you, too, baby.” He kissed her lips and chuckled when she pinched his arm.
“Ow,” he laughed. “All right, bambinos, here is your mama.”

  He set Carter on the couch and the boys went straight into her arms.

  “Hi babies,” she giggled. “Did you have fun with your silly daddy, today?”

  Nathan wasn’t going to lie; he felt good about himself when his sons yelled yes at the top of their lungs.

  Sofia even left Kyle’s hair and scrambled over to her beloved Auntie Carterina. Carter opened her arms wider and allowed the toddler to shower her with kisses. “Auntie Cater, look! I braid Papa’s hair.”

  Carter looked over at Kyle’s half braided hair in amusement. “It’s so pretty, sweetheart,” she chuckled.

  Nathan heard the soft laughter of her friends from the entrance of the living room. Aria, and the Pierce sisters, Tamara and Reanna. They were the only three of Carter’s friends that had ever been to the house. He walked over to greet them.

  Tamara came forward first. “Hey, giant muscle man,” she said with a bright smile.

  He chuckled. “Hi Tamara, how are you?”

  She answered him with a warm hug. Tamara Pierce was a five foot five, hilariously sassy sweetheart that said whatever the hell she wanted, when she wanted. Both she and her sister were stunning women with gorgeous, eye-catching dark brown skin. They looked exactly alike, but Reanna was older than Tamara—who was twenty five—by two years. Tamara was a clothing designer, and a certified fashion junkie. Every time Nathan saw the woman she was done up to perfection, wearing designer clothes from her own fashion line. Even now, the woman was wearing black high-waisted shorts and a white lace top that Nathan was positive she’d made at her own store.

  Once they pulled back from the hug, Tamara grabbed his face and kissed his cheek, making an exaggerated mwah sound just like she always did.

  She smiled and wiped her lip gloss from his cheek. “You’re a good daddy. My friend is a very lucky woman.”

  Nathan smiled. See, she was a sweetheart.