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There are even a few Polly Pockets in the mix, which is awesome.
Hurrying back, I find Mattie staring at me with a forlorn expression. "I thought you were gone!"
I set the bins on the sofa. "I brought you a gift."
He furrows his brow. "Well, I do like gifts."
I smile as I rub his hand. "Open the bin, baby boy. See what’s inside."
Mattie cracks open the first one—then sniffles as he tugs out a doll. "Oh my Gosh. She’s like the girls in the movie."
"There are plenty more where that came from. These are Tommaso’s dolls he played with growing up.Figures—yeah, I know."
Mattie brings the doll to his heart. "She’s perfect to play with."
"Give her some friends," I urge, tugging out another doll. "Recreate Regina’s clique. You can act out scenes from the movie."
Mattie’s eyes well with tears. A big fat one slides down his right cheek. "This is amazing."
Licking my right thumb, I brush the tear from his cheek. "Daddy always knows."
I start the movie again—this time, Mattie views it through the lens of his dolls.
I never thought playtime could draw you into a movie, but I was wrong.
Mattie smiles happily as he pretends the dolls are the characters, making them talk sassily to each other.
He uses Cloudy as a sofa where they sit and gossip.
He even plays with a redheaded Barbie—overcoming his temporary prejudice against redheads.
He feeds the Regina doll a piece of popcorn. "This won’t be good for your diet, Regina."
I massage his back. Christ, he’s adorable. I was right to fall head-over-heels for him in the coffee shop.
"Let her eat it," I growl. "She’s been a good Barbie. She deserves a snack."
Mattie lifts his eyes to me. "Daddy—thank you."
A pause fills the space. I trail my thumb across his jawline, soothing his soft skin. With his wide, blue eyes and pale, doll-like skin, he reminds me of a male Barbie.
"Tell Daddy how you like the movie."
"Still love it." He winks at me. "But if I didn't, that'd be okay—right?"
"Yes." I snort. God, it’s only a movie. If Mattie didn’t like gelato or Nonna’s cooking,thatwould be a dealbreaker.
He melts. "I love how open-minded you are. You helped me overcome a bit of prejudice—toward redheads—that I didn’t realize I harbored tonight and that feels good."
My eyes lock on his. I tick his head up. Motherfucker—he doesn’t know what he does to me. At. All.
"Kiss me, baby boy," I whisper.
"I thought you’d never ask."
We kiss. Passionately. Intensely. The credits roll, but we don't hear them.
All that matters is the taste of his lips on mine. His hot tongue swirling around my mouth. The sweetness of his lip pillows. His lippows.
