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Michael appears, and the sight of him is like a breath of fresh air shot directly into my lungs. I haven’t been able to take a real breath since he left. The realization of how intensely he affects me is overwhelming and eerily familiar because his son is the only other person who shares the same ability.
As soon as he smiles at me, I know I’m royally fucked because the man has me caught in his orbit, and I’m helpless to pull away.
20
Michael
Enzo leaves shortly after I arrive home, but not before snagging a honey biscuit on his way out. Rose digs in before he even leaves. She’s not shy at all about eating her fill, which is strangely attractive. She covers the biscuit in an obscene amount of grape jelly, and my eyes track a drop that falls down her chin. She reaches for a napkin, but my hand is on her chin before she can wipe it away. Rose stares at me with wide eyes as I swipe the drop from her chin with my thumb and then lick it clean, keeping my eyes on hers the entire time.
“Mmm. Tastes sweet.” I wink, enjoying it immensely when a hard blush blossoms on her cheeks.
Rose clears her throat, pushing her plate away as she does. “Michael, I need to ask you something.”
“Okay.” Something tells me her question doesn’t involve spreading jam on her breasts for me to lick off. Shame.
“I know you don’t believe Liam is your son, but he is mine, and he’s too young to be away from me.” As she speaks, her voice cracks, and I notice tears beginning to gather in her eyes.“You found and rescued me. Will you help me get him?”
To avoid her starting to cry, I swiftly change the subject to focus on the facts. “You said he wasn’t at the auction. So where is he?”
“Back in Italy. In a small town outside of Venice. I was dropping off muffins at a local bakery and left Liam with my friend there while I ran another errand really quick. That’s when I was taken.”
Italy, huh? No wonder I could never find her afterward. She wasn't even in the same damn country. Still, something tells me she’s not telling me everything, but I get the sense that enough of it is the truth. Enough for me to let it go until her son is back by her side. “Do you think he’s still with your friend?”
“I hope so,” she says. “But what if he’s not? What if he’s been taken too? What if she just abandoned him on the steps of some church, and he’s been adopted into a new family already? What if—”
I reach out and grip her shoulders. “Rose. Stop. And take a breath for me.”
Her tears stream down her face freely now. So much for distracting her. Rosesniffles hard and listens, taking a few deep breaths. I hand her a napkin and wait as she wipes her face clean. She looks at me with bloodshot eyes and a blotchy face. She’s a mess, but she’s never been more beautiful because that fire is still there, burning bright and hot with determination. “Please, Michael. He’s our son.”
“I’ll help you,” I tell her, purposely avoiding the part about him being our son because that remains to be seen, and I’m not holding my breath that the fertility results have changed.
Unsurprisingly, Dominic is perplexed by my request but knows better than to question it. Although I’m sure he has several dozen he’s aching to ask, and he’s not alone. I have several dozen myself. It should be a simple task, a quick grab-and-go kind of situation, but nothing about any of this is simple.
We finish breakfast while we wait for Dominic to call back. He was still in Venice visiting his mom, so he wasn’t far. When my phone finally rings with a FaceTime call, Rose practically jumps out of her skin in anticipation.
As soon as I swipe the green button, my cousin’s angry and very annoyed face fills the screen. His dark eyes zero in on me before snapping, “Someone want to tell me why I just kidnapped a baby from a sweet old grandma? Oh, and a follow-up question. Why does said baby have your eyes, Michael?”
Rose grabs my hand and pulls the phone toward her. She’s never met Dominic, but that doesn’t stop her momma bear side from coming out when she demands, “You have him? You have Liam?”
“You know, even with your instructions, that woman still refused to hand him over? Honestly, it feels like I kidnapped the baby. I feel dirty somehow—”
“Do you have Liam?”
“Answer her, Dominic,” I order out of video sight.
“Fine. Yes. I have the little rug rat.” Dominic shifts the phone, and it’s a long second of tumbling views before he centers the phone on a car seat and the baby resting inside. “Say hi, kid.”
“Liam!” Rose cries, her eyes shining with tears. “Oh, my sweet boy. It’s really you.”
The baby blinks open his eyes, and the setting Italian sunlight catches the color. My heart slams to a stop as my entire focus shifts to the impossible child peering up at the camera with eyes the same shade as mine.
The gentle buzzing of my phone on the couch wakes me up. Honestly, I’m surprised I fell asleep at all with my mind so overwhelmed with questions and not enough answers. And of all my questions, my biggest one is how it’s even possible that Rose’s baby can be my son.
I look over at Rose, relieved to find her still sleeping, curled up beside me, using my lap as her personal pillow. She spent as long as she could on the phone with Liam, staring at his sleeping face until Dominic was forced to hang up when he boarded the private plane to bring them to Miami. Afterward, she passed out again, with a noticeably lighter air around her. Like seeing Liam was enough to ease some of the nightmares haunting her, and she could finally just sleep.
My phone buzzes once more, and I grab it before it wakes Rose up. She needs every minute of sleep she can get. I gently brush a lock of gorgeous red hair from her face before answering the phone without looking at the caller ID.
“Yes?”
