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"Maybe we just need to meet him before we pick one," I say, resting my head against Roberto's shoulder.
"I don’t care what his name is. I'm going to love the hell out of our kid."
I laugh. "'A rose by any other name would smell as sweet,' you mean?"
"He'll probably still smell like diapers, but sure."
I lift onto my toes to kiss Roberto's jaw, smiling at him. "No teaching him to use his fists until it's necessary."
He smirks. "It's always necessary, cutie. But he won't have the same upbringing you or I did, so no. I won't corrupt him into loving street fights if that's what you're worried about."
"I'm not worried about you corrupting him. I'm worried he'll love you more because you're fun, and I'll make him eat all his vegetables."
"Please. He'll love you more than anything." Roberto grins as he brushes his lips against mine. "But you will make him eat all his vegetables. Won't you, my pretty little perfectionist?"
"Stop talking before you get yourself into trouble,simpatico piantagrane," I giggle, kissing him again.
“I like getting into trouble with you.”
“Believe me, I know.”
And honestly? I love getting into trouble with Roberto, too. I’ll never get tired of it.
The End
