"Aria, you had me hooked the moment you stood in front of me in the VIP booth back at Volt. Then you had me whipped when you were sprawled across my desk a panting mess." His lips brush mine and I want nothing more than to lean forward and close the...
Emery's cries echo through the house. Even through the thick wood of my office door, I can hear them clearly. Aria's faint hushing makes its way through the door as she tries to get Emery to be quiet. Every fibre of my being wants to go downstairs and help my wife but the meeting I'm currently in with Dom is stopping me.
My younger brother must sense it because his glare is burning holes into my head. I meet his stare head-on and can't help but feel bad for the man. The family scene isn't for him. But I wouldn't have made him come here if Em didn't have a temperature. For the 3 months that Em has been here, I've only gone to the office twice and the last time I went there was a light layer of dust collecting on my desk.
"Just go get her, Enzo." Dom drops the blueprints he was holding on my desk and leans back in his chair. "You're pissing me off with your high-strung attitude."
I scoff at his comment and drop the stack of papers I was clutching in my hands. I stand from my seat behind my desk and walk out into the hallway. Emery's cries get louder as I walk down the stairs. I follow her cries to the lounge room and find Aria in a very distressed state. Our daughter buries her face in my wife's neck as she continues to cry, her face red.
I can tell Emery definitely isn't feeling well by the actual tears that fall down her face. Out of all the times she had cried, the past week, when she had gotten sick, was the first time she cried real tears.
Aria spots me standing in the doorway. Her eyes are glossed over as she continues to gently rock Emery.
"I'm so, so sorry, Enzo. She just won't stop crying. I'm trying everything." Her voice cracks with emotion. She's barely had any sleep. She kept pushing me back to bed and refused to let me help her whenever Em would wake up during the night.
I give her a sympathetic look as I would towards my two girls. "Give her to me. You need to give yourself a break. Go have a shower and go to bed. I'll look after her for a while." I say softly. I take Emery from Aria and cradle the 3-month-old to my chest. Her cries die down slightly but she still continues to fuss.
Aria's shoulders sag in defeat, exhaustion evident on her face. "What's her temp now?" I look down at the baby in my arms and use the back of my hand to feel her forehead.
"It's still on 37, but she's just uncomfortable." Aria runs her fingers through Emery's short, thick hair. Em is only wearing a pair of cotton shorts and a singlet. Despite what my mother said about babies preferring to not wear clothes, Em prefers to have something on at all times.
I place a chaste kiss on the side of Aria's head before she walks off in the direction of the stairs. I grab Em's bouncer, though I doubt she'll want to be put down in it.
She whines as I walk up the stairs and down to my office. Dom's back is to me when I nudge the door open with my foot. His huge frame is hunched over as he looks at the blueprints of a warehouse in Spain.
