Chapter Twenty-Three .3

I quickly stood and took a few cautious steps, making sure to keep my palm and fingers wrapped around the Baby’s head and squeezing his body to mine. I quickly sat down on the ground, propping my legs up and leaning him against my thighs. I sighed, feeling much better about our proximity to the floor. Even so, I practically caged him with my arms.

He kind of looked like an alien. He was very red, and I worried I might have held him too tight.

“He ain’t gonna bite you, Sugar,” Mama laughed at me.

Didn’t babies teethe? He might not bite, but he certainly will gum me. Ew...

He made a crying sound, and I widened my eyes, more panic settling in. “No, no, no,” I shushed. “You’re okay...” I cringed. I looked up at the amused women. “Is he okay?” I asked. Why was he crying?

“He’s just a little fussy, he’s alright,” his mom assured without even turning around.

A large body sat beside me and took the baby from my lap. “Hey buddy,” Wyatt cooed at him, holding him in the crook of his elbow like he’d done this a million times.

Thank God. I finally breathed in and gave him a grateful look, which he just chuckled at. “Odette has a tendency to squeeze small cute things, Val. It’s a miracle our cat hasn’t been taken to the vet,” he informed, poking fun at me.

“I don’t squeeze him that hard...” I defended.

“Ain’t that a sight,” Mama gushed, looking at the two of us on the floor with a baby. I widened my eyes. Please no... “I hate you for choppin’ your baby makers off. All of you would make such pretty babies, especially with her genes!” She scolded.

Wyatt rolled his eyes like this was a conversation they’d had many times before. “Mama, nothing got chopped off. What do you think a vasectomy is?” He cringed, his voice sounding like he was in pain as he said the word.

She shrugged. “Your daddy never got one, so you could still become a big brother, you know,” she teased, and the woman in the kitchen laughed with her.

Wyatt looked disgusted, unable to meet his mother’s eyes. “I don’t wanna know that...” he cringed. “Alright, I’m taking him to his dad before you overshare again.” He stood with the baby in his arms and gestured for me to follow.

“Where do you think you came from?” She shouted as we walked out the back door.

I laughed as Wyatt shivered in disgust. “Sorry,” he nervously apologized.

I shook my head and touched his arm. “You’re cute when you blush, and your mom is adorable,” I gushed. “Thank you for saving me,” I gestured to the baby as we walked.

Wyatt’s eyes scanned the area as he looked for the father. “I’ve never seen someone panic so much from holding a baby,” he laughed, glancing down at me. “They’re not as fragile as you think, Baby.”

“Maybe not in your arms. I don’t like babies; I don’t know what to do with them,” I cringed.

He nodded in agreement. “You do this,” he said before he tapped a man on the shoulder. “Take your kid, Bob,” he playfully said.

After Wyatt returned the crying baby, we began making our way to the table where my professors sat. There were two men and a woman talking to them. One of the men wore a black button-down shirt, expensive jeans, and dress shoes. The woman was beautiful and middle-aged, and even from here, I could tell the black dress she wore cost thousands. The other man was facing away but had a beer in his hands as Aiden smiled at him in friendly conversation.

“Are those Niko’s parents?” I asked Wyatt. They must be. From Aidan’s description, they fit the bill with their tanned skin, similar to Niko’s, and obvious wealth.

Wyatt gently nodded and slowed his walking. “Yeah, and the man beside them is Aiden’s dad,” he sighed. “I’m sorry. I swear to God, none of us knew they invited him,” he shook his head.

“Do he and Aiden not get along or something?” I asked, not understanding why he was apologizing.

“No,” he quickly said. “I just don’t want you to feel like you’re being put on the spot, having to meet all our parents today. Walt is a nice guy; he just has a bit of a drinking problem,” he assured.

“Aiden didn’t know he’d be here?” I asked.

Wyatt shook his head. “No. Our parents have been friends for years. Pops probably told him he called you, and given that none of us have brought a woman around, he probably wants to meet you,” he pressed his lips together. “If you want to go, we can go—”

“Wyatt,” I grabbed his hand, giving him a pointed look. “You’re overthinking this more than I am. I definitely wasn’t expecting to meet all your parents today, but it is what it is. If they end up sucking, I can always go back to your mom, and she can tell me how pretty I am and how I’d make beautiful babies if your dicks weren’t chopped off,” I smirked, trying to ease his worries.

A small smile grew before he snickered. “I do have the best parents—I told you they’d love you,” he gloated. “Just... please, if my family or their parents get to be too overwhelming, tell me. My feelings won’t be hurt in the slightest if you want to go home early,” he placed a kiss against my hair.

Meeting Niko’s parents and Aiden’s dad was nerve-wracking, but I also wanted to meet the people who raised them to be such gentlemen. It was like unlocking a piece of their puzzle.

“And there she is,” Niko chimed when his eyes landed on me. His parents turned around fully and faced me. His father was handsome, like an older Niko with a salt-and-pepper beard. His mom was drop-dead gorgeous, so much so that I was intimidated by her Angelina Jolie-like stare. His father seemed kind, but his mom was undoubtedly sizing me up as her eyes scanned me from head to toe.

Niko stood from his chair as he introduced us. “Odette, these are my parents, Isabella and Mateo,” he smiled.

“It’s nice to meet you,” I shook their hands, noticing how icy cold Isabella’s hands were. They matched her gaze.

His mother slightly upturned her lips as she greeted, “Ciao, Odette. We’ve heard good things about you from our smitten son.” Her Italian accent was thick, only adding to her intimidation factor.

Behind her, Dominic smirked at Niko, finding amusement in the awkwardness. Niko didn’t seem phased by his mother’s admittance; he simply smiled at me.

She looked over her shoulder at her husband and lifted a brow. “è giovane... almeno sappiamo che non è con loro per la loro ricchezza,” Isabella spoke softly.

[She’s young... at least we know she’s not with them for their wealth.]

I chewed the inside of my lip, knowing I wasn’t meant to understand what she said. I wasn’t insulted by her speculations; I would have thought similarly if I was looking at our relationship from an outside perspective. Still, I wanted his parents to like me—unfortunately, I was coming off as a gold digger.

My eyes flicked to Niko to gauge his reaction, but he was shooting daggers at the side of his mother’s head.

Mateo’s shoulders dropped slightly as he let out a small, inaudible breath. He placed his hands on his wife’s shoulders before responding in his own language. “Sí, ella sola tiene mucho de eso. Sé amable, mi amor. La chica ya está bastante nerviosa sin tu escrutinio.”

[Yes, she has plenty of that on her own. Be kind, my love. The girl is nervous enough without your scrutiny.]

“She speaks Italian, mother,” Niko informed bluntly. “And Spanish,” he added. “Non tollererò che nessuno le manchi di rispetto. Voi due non ne siete esclusi. Sono chiaro?” The Italian rolled off his tongue effortlessly as if he had no reservations about scolding his parents.

[I won’t tolerate anyone disrespecting her. The two of you are not excluded from that. Am I clear?]

I hated that there was even a hint of conflict, but from Niko and Mateo’s smile, I knew it wasn’t an actual argument. Butterflies swarmed in my stomach at his response. Even in front of his parents, he was proud that I was his—that I was theirs.

Isabella’s tight mouth smile turned genuine as she took in her son. “Ti abbiamo cresciuto bene,” she patted his hand gently, a proud expression before she turned back to me. “My apologies, Cara. Where did you learn our languages?” She asked, her tone more civil than before.

[We raised you right.]

I folded my hands behind my back, hiding my nervous twiddling—although Aiden’s father would see. “I traveled a lot. I knew five languages by the time I was 15,” I explained.

“Pretty and smart,” Aiden’s father chimed behind me, making our group turn to him. He had Aiden’s electric eyes, only they were dull. It was apparent life had taken its toll on the man. He had a glass with dark liquor in it that he’d been nursing. “Well done, boys,” he jokingly winked at my professors.

Bury me.

Aiden forced a sarcastic smile at his father. “Stop talking, I beg of you,” he said through his teeth, making Wyatt and Niko chuckle. Aiden looked less than thrilled as he gave me an apologetic glance. “Odette, this old drunk is my father, Walt. You’ll have to excuse him; he doesn’t have a filter.”

“Is that where you get it?” I shot, shaking Walt’s hand while smiling at him. Aiden smirked, gently shaking his head.

“It’s very nice to meet you, Little Lady. I think I can speak for Isabella, Mateo, Dominic’s dad (wherever he’s been hiding), and Wyatt’s folks that we are very happy to meet you. We didn’t think they’d ever bring a woman home,” he nudged me.

He must not have been informed of Dominic’s father’s passing. From the unbothered expression on Dominic’s face, it wouldn’t be mentioned anytime soon.

In response, I smiled. This was going well—much better than it could’ve gone. Considering my only troublesome moments were holding a baby and Isabella’s worries about my age... I’d call this a win. No one was screaming, and the house wasn’t on fire.

“The pleasures all mine, really,” I glanced at my handsome professors before addressing the parental units again. “You did a wonderful job raising them,” I complimented.

“Y’all look like you could use these!” A loud voice chuckled from behind me, making me jump. “Hey, Killer!” Pops put a bottle of whisky and shot glasses on the table before wrapping his arms around me in a big hug. “Thanks for coming,” he whispered.

He wrapped his arm around my shoulder, giving it a squeeze as he greeted the others. “Don’t let the skirt and bow fool ‘ya, she tried to kill me the first time I met her,” he teased.

“I did no such thing!” I shook my head and smirked at Wyatt.

Pops widened his eyes at the group. “Whatever she says. Just don’t let her get a hold of the cookin’ tongs,” he chuckled. He let go of me and began pouring shots of dark whisky.

Isabella moved closer to me until she hooked her arm with mine. “Mi dispiace per quello che ho detto prima. Rendi mio figlio molto felice e per questo ti sono grato. Sono passati molti anni dall’ultima volta che li ho visti sorridere come fanno adesso,” she gave my arm a squeeze.

[I’m sorry for what I said before. You make my son very happy, and for that, I am grateful. It’s been many years since I’ve seen any of them smile the way they are now.]

Bashfully, I glanced down at her admittance. “Anche loro mi rendono molto felice. Non sono cresciuto in una grande famiglia come Wyatt o con due genitori che si amano. Incontrandoti, capisco perché sono così gentiluomini,” I explained, taking the opportunity to respond in her language.

[They make me very happy, too. I was not raised in a big family like Wyatt or with two parents who love each other. Meeting you, I understand why they are such gentlemen.]

She pressed her lips together in a heartwarming smile. “Come madre, non riesco a pensare a complimento migliore.” She perked up, giving my hand an excited tap. “Il tuo italiano è molto buono, Cara! Meglio di quello di Niko,” she laughed.

[As a mother, I can think of no better compliment. Your Italian is very good, Cara! Better than Niko’s.]

Niko handed me a small glass of whisky before wrapping his arm around me. “You’re lucky I learned Italian at all. With Dad speaking Spanish, you speaking Italian, and everyone else speaking English, I didn’t know what words went with which language for most of my childhood,” he joked.

“I made your mind beautiful,” she bragged before standing by Mateo again.

Niko glanced down at me. “Quattro colpi e scommetto che Wyatt indossa un cappello da cowboy e parla con accento,” he mumbled next to my ear.

[Four shots, and I bet Wyatt is wearing a cowboy hat talking in an accent.]

I laughed at the idea of my put-together man doing such things. “è quello che succede di solito in questi eventi?”

[Is that what usually happens at these events?]

With wide eyes, he nodded and took his shot. “Every year,” he smirked.

An excited, giddy giggle left my lips as I slightly bounced on my heels, excited to see Cowboy Wyatt.

Niko was wrong. It didn’t take four shots; it took eight. Wyatt had somehow found a cowboy hat, his shirt had the buttons undone, and he had a very distinct southern drawl.

The sun was beginning to set, and the party was in full swing. It’d been hours since we arrived, and I was feeling comfortable. As promised, I played tag with the kids—only after dragging Niko with me. My hair was a bit messy, and I was slightly tipsy from three shots of whisky. It wasn’t my favorite, so I didn’t have much.

A few of Wyatt’s cousins could play the guitar and sing, and they were putting on quite the show, playing old country songs. Groups of people danced in the grass, beers in their hands. I was so happy I decided to join them. Their families were amazing, even Walt, who Aiden was obviously embarrassed by. They were kind, and I was so glad to meet them.

Walking back to our table after the kids stole me again, I smiled at my professors. Wyatt pulled me into his lap before I could take my own seat. “Hey Baby,” he flirted, his hand palming my thigh.

I couldn’t help but laugh at his bold drunkenness before looking up at my other men, who were just as amused by him. “Wyatt,” I warned with a smile, turning to ensure no one—especially their parents—saw the PDA.

The corner of his mouth turned up in a mischievous grin. “What? I can’t hold you?”

“Not in front of your parents!” I widened my eyes at him. “I don’t want them to think I’m a whore,” I teased.

“Oh Baby, if they knew what a whore you could be, they’d understand,” he rasped against my neck, which he was trying to nuzzle into.

Arousal slicked between my thighs, and I quickly stood up from the horny cowboy’s lap. “You’re trouble,” I nervously laughed, still standing.

Dominic let out a hearty laugh. “Not a fan of PDA, Darling?”

“Not when their families might be watching,” I defended. “They like me, I want to keep it that way.”

“I love drunk Wyatt,” Niko sighed happily.