AllFreeNovel
Share Us
We were silent, because what did you say to butler’s pantries and infinity pools?
“There are six bedrooms upstairs; use whichever you like.” He cleared his throat. “I had a room redecorated as a nursery for the bambina, but if you want to change rooms, or decorate differently, feel free.”
“Six rooms? Why the hell did you buy a house with so many rooms?” Tally asked, as she climbed the stairs. I grabbed Bobbi-June’s baby carrier and held it securely. With stairs this steep, we’d need baby gates too.
He shrugged. “I just rented it for the length of my contract. I liked the privacy. If you hate it, we can move somewhere else. Buy somewhere more permanent, if that would look better for your court case.”
This place was worth at least fourteen million, and he’d casually mentioned going somewhere else, like it was nothing. I suddenly understood why this situation suited him. With this kind of money, would you ever be sure someone wanted you for you?
At least with Tally, he knew what he was getting into, and what she needed from him. Sure, it might be the same things that everyone wanted—a fat bank balance and some serious influence—but she was honest about it, not playing games with his head. I also knew for a fact that outside of keeping Bobbi-June, Tally didn’t care if she lived in a mansion or a studio. Material things meant nothing to her. It’s part of why I loved her so much.
Opening a door halfway down the hallway, Rocco pushed it wide and stepped aside. The nursery was a soft, buttery yellow, so different to the almost severe interior design of the rest of the house. There was a mural of cartoon ducks driving race cars around the walls, and a full-size crib on one side of the room. A pillowy patterned rug covered most of the white carpet. There was also a change table, closet and a wide, comfortable-looking chair in the corner.
Rocco looked almost nervous. As I walked further inside, I slapped a hand on his back. “Thanks, man. This is awesome.”
The relief on his face made me feel like a dick for thinking terrible things about him when Tally first pitched the idea of marriage. He wasn’t the asshole I normally saw on the television right now. There was no posturing about who had the bigger dick, or who was going to be the top dog in the house.
Maybe we really could help each other. Maybe he really didn’t care that we were here too.
THIRTY-TWO
ROCCO
I hadn’t lived in a house this noisy since I was twelve. The removalists were carrying in boxes, dragging them upstairs to the rooms everyone had chosen. Tally was directing them around like a general, and the guys were unpacking as they went, to ease the stress on Tally.
Bobbi-June, Norton the dog and I had been banished to the lower floors.
I took the baby outside to the patio and sat in the shade, holding her against my chest as the dog sniffed around. He never strayed far from the baby for long, constantly coming back to make sure she was still here, still happy. Man, what a good dog.
The baby was as happy and content as anyone could ask for in a newborn. She was busy looking around at the bright colors and sounds of the backyard. “What do you think, Bambolina? Do you think you’ll enjoy living here?”
The dog took off across the lawn to defend the baby from a squirrel. As I watched him, my phone vibrated in my pocket. Pulling it out with a sigh, I leaned back so the baby was resting safely on my chest, then answered the call. Rafa’s face appeared on the screen. He only believed in video calls, because he was a distrusting asshole.
“Do you have your dick away?” he demanded before he’d even said hello.
You answer the phone during sex one time, and some people never let it go. “Yes, Rafa.” I flipped the phone around, and Bobbi-June was lifting her head, looking at the camera. I snapped a quick screenshot of Rafa’s face, because it was truly hilarious the way he was gaping like a fish.
“Rocco, whose baby is that?”
It was impossible not to fuck with him a little. “My baby. This is Bobbi-June. Say hello to your Zio Rafa, Bambolina.”
“Rocco…”
Once upon a time, that warning in my older brother’s voice had meant he was going to punch the shit out of me when he got hold of me, usually because I was being a little asshole. Homesickness swamped me once again, the same feeling that had plagued me since I’d packed my bags and joined a racing academy at fourteen.
“Is that why socials are saying you had a quick courthouse wedding? Because you got some girl pregnant? Mamma is going to beat you if she finds out you had a baby out of wedlock. She’s already praying for your soul.” He muttered something not very complimentary under his breath.
He wasn’t wrong. Mamma would come after me with a wooden spoon, if she thought I was impregnating girls and not marrying them. Though it wasn’t like I could marry more than one. And if Papa had taught me anything, it was that you could be a happily married man and still impregnate women without marrying them.
That was how I’d ended up with at least seven half-siblings.
I shrugged. “Yes.” Technically not lying. The baby was at least fifty percent of the reason why we had to get married. “And for a green card. Someone was holding up residency, and if I’m going to give this IndyCar thing a chance, I need to be able to work without being tied to VANT permanently.” At least, that’s what my lawyers had argued when we were writing up contracts. VANT had lured me here, but the nature of the racing industry was that drivers moved around. I needed to be able to legally work in the US for that. Not that I was going to leave VANT anytime soon, that was for sure.
Rafa pinched the bridge of his nose. “You knocked up a girl for a green card?”
The baby gurgled at the idea, and it sounded so much like a chuckle that it made me laugh. “Relax, Rafa. Bobbi-June isn’t biologically mine. Though, legally, I am her step-father, so I guess that makes you her uncle, if you want.”
I heard Rafa’s wife, Theresa, ask something, and Rafa covered the phone to reply. I could imagine what she was saying, though. It was either, “Who’s the woman in the photographs?” or “Did that manwhore really get married?”
