was...
She couldn’t read his expression, didn’t know exactly what he thought, but when he returned those oh, so familiar irises to her own something ignited inside like her body recognized exactly who was standing in front of it. Samara swallowed to retain moisture in her mouth, the shouting match between Nyssa and Sansone turning into something muffled, sounding almost like the teachers on Charlie Brown.
“Yo!” Luciano suddenly snapped, causing her to jump as he pointed toward their siblings. “You two shut it.” He looked back to her. “You. Bedroom. Now.” Stepping past her, he strode toward the back as if he owned every square foot not only of her condo but her.
Samara stood there, watching his powerful steps, staring at the way his shoulders rolled with every step.
“Now, Sammie,” he demanded again without turning around, his voice casual.
Chewing her lip, she followed. When she reached her room, he was leaning against the wall near the door, something small in his hand. She sucked in a huge breath when she realized it was the ultrasound picture. Samara had set it out so she could frame it later.
The door closed with a soft click behind her. His doing. She would’ve kept it open, too terrified to stay anywhere alone with him not knowing what it was he was about to say or how he’d heard about the accidental announcement so fast. Not only that, but how exactly had he managed to drop everythingand come all the way to Manhattan? Whyhad he dropped everything to come all the way up to Manhattan?
Was he here to tell her to her face that he didn’t want anything to do with her orthe baby? Maybe he was. Maybe he resented her. Maybe he’d never had plans for a child. Maybe he’d walk out and never speak to her again. Did it make her weak that she didn’t think she’d be able to handle any of those scenarios? Was she stupid because all she really wanted was to hear him say he’d be here, that he was happy despite the unusual circumstances? Maybe. Or maybe she was human and a little vulnerable and simply wanted him not to regret the one night they’d had, because she’d never regretted it, and she never would. How could she? It had been one of the best times in her life. Point. Blank.
Samara lifted her chin and folded her arms across her chest, determined to live with whatever was about to leave his mouth. If she had to, she’d do it alone. It would be hard, that much she knew, and she’d probably cry and have to keep Nyssa from nuking all of Philly in a homicidal rage, but so be it.
Luciano straightened and walked toward her, eyes still on that ultrasound. When he finally lifted them, there was an inexplicable emotion in his gaze that took her breath away. Then his lips curved until they spread into a full-blown smile right before he was laughing. “When I asked if you wanted an Antonelli inside you this isn’t exactly what I meant, but I do believe it’ll do me just as much good.”
That was when Samara burst into tears.
***
Luciano dropped the ultrasound and caught Samara as she launched herself at him. The tears made him feel like an asshole of epic proportions. Stroking a hand down her back, he took a seat on the bed with her in his lap, arms wrapped around her.
“Either you’re happy, or you think our kid is bringing the apocalypse with him when he arrives,” he murmured into her hair.
She cried harder and he winced. “I’m sensing quiet time is needed right now.” Luciano pressed a kiss to her temple as he kicked off his boots and scooted backwards until he was far enough up the bed to lie down with her resting on top of him. Soon enough, the crying died down until it stopped completely, and the sound of soft sighs filled the room. Soft sighs that sounded a lot like...
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