by Wendy Rosnau
When they were finally alone in front of the fire, Joey said, “I’ll put Niccolo to bed with his teddy bear, and then I’ll be back to tuck you in.”
“I’ll be here. It’s been a long day and I’m exhausted.”
Joey slid Niccolo to his shoulder and stood. Looking down at his wife, he said, “How exhausted?”
Rhea smiled, sent her gaze over his body.
“I know that look, darlin’.”
With innocent eyes, she asked, “What look is that, Joey?”
“The one that tells me that I should leave a note with Gates to call Opal in early to feed our son breakfast.”
“Oh … that look.”
“Yeah, that look.” Holding Niccolo close, Joey bent forward and kissed her. Then he straightened and offered her his lazy Sicilian smile. “A man would be a fool not to act on that look.”
“And as you’ve already proven to me more than once this week, you’re no fool, Joey.”
“No, just a man in love.”
She stood, stretched like a cat, then purred, “Put our son to bed while I write the note for Norman, Joey. I feel like sleeping until noon. Capiche?”
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