Man of the House: A Dark Bad Boy Romance(111)

He’d be there every morning. Maybe he’d even come into my room, wake me up with his strong hands slipping down between my legs. I’d pretend like I was angry, of course, but truthfully I’d be soaking wet. I’d been having these dreams where I wake up in bed with Vince and he instantly begins to press his mouth against my *, eating me with an incredible hunger.

I could feel myself getting excited just thinking about this fantasy, and so I quickly turned on the little television and sat in bed with Alexei in my lap, talking to him and bouncing him slightly.

I couldn’t let myself get drawn into any fantasies. I needed to keep my head on my shoulders, because this little game was getting more and more dangerous every day.



Three hours later and Alexei still hadn’t stopped crying.

He had started almost as soon as I’d put the television on. I didn’t understand it. I tried everything, tried feeding him and changing him, but nothing worked. I sang to him and bounced him, I put him in his little chair, I walked him around the room, and nothing.

I had been afraid this would happen, had even warned Vince of it. Alexei didn’t do well with change, and since we were in a new room, he was likely just reacting to that. He’d probably be crying on and off for the rest of the night, and I could already tell that I was in for a rough evening.

It was so frustrating. I hated that I kept dragging Alexei around. I knew it wasn’t his fault, that I needed to give him stability, but I just couldn’t. And it wasn’t like I could explain that to him rationally or something like that.

I felt terrible since it was getting late, but I couldn’t do anything. Alexei just kept crying.

Vince lasted another ten minutes before he knocked on my door. “Kaley, open up,” he said.

I went over to the door and pulled it open. “I’m sorry,” I said. “He gets like this when you change his surroundings. He likes stability and routine.”

Vince stared at me. “Give him.”

I cocked my head. “What?”

“Give him to me.”

“You want a crying baby.”

Vince held out his arms. “Now.”

“You don’t have to. I’m sorry. You can go sleep somewhere else if you want.”

He just stared at me. “Kaley.”

I sighed. “Fine.” I carefully handed Alexei over to Vince.

And marveled at how the tiny baby basically disappeared into Vince’s large arms.

“Okay, little man,” Vince said, walking away and into the living room. “I know it sucks in here, but it’s okay. Papa Vince has you now.”

I just stared, completely floored, as Vince walked around the room, bouncing Alex slightly and talking to him softly. He seemed like it was a totally normal thing for him to be doing, not at all completely unexpected and strange. I knew he was able to get Alexei to sleep the other day, but I hadn’t actually seen it.

And he was calling himself “Papa,” which was even stranger. Vince kept saying over and over that he didn’t know what he wanted with Alexei, wasn’t sure if he could be a father.

But the proof was right in front of me. Vince was wrong.

Being a father wasn’t about being perfect. Nobody was perfect, and everybody screwed up sometimes. Being a father was all about being there for your child, and Vince was clearly able to do that. When the pressure was on, Vince stepped up.

Even better, it actually worked.

I sat down slowly on the couch, absolutely blown away, as Vince kept walking circles. He went around and around for nearly ten minutes, rocking Alexei, talking to him, even singing to him at one point in Italian.

And slowly but surely, Alexei calmed down. He went from bawling at the top of his lungs to only crying intermittently to finally falling sleep in Vince’s arms.

I absolutely couldn’t believe it. He walked over to me, holding the little guy in his arms and grinning like mad.

“Easy,” he whispered.

“Holy shit,” I said.

He smirked even bigger and then walked back into the bedroom. I followed and watched as he slowly and incredibly gently placed Alexei into his crib and stepped back.

Alexei didn’t stir. He slept soundly, breathing deeply. Vince walked away and softly shut the door.

“Holy shit,” I said again.

“Right? Kid loves me.”

“Vince, I couldn’t believe it. I’ve never been able to put Alex down when he gets like that.”

“Guess he just needs a man’s touch.”

I laughed, completely mystified. Vince poured himself another whisky, knocking it back.

“You didn’t have to do that, you know.”

“Sure I did,” he said. “The kid kept crying, and I knew I could fix it.”

“Shit,” I said, shaking my head.

“Come here, mommy,” he said, grinning.

“Don’t call me that.”

“What? You’re my son’s mommy. I’ll call you what I want.”

Reluctantly, I walked over to him, feeling something beginning to spread through my chest. He poured me a drink and handed it to me.

“Here’s to crying babies,” he said.

“I don’t want to drink to that.”

He clinked my glass. “Too late.”

I laughed as we both knocked our drinks back. I made a little face. “Gross.”