Belly of the Beast

Chapter 41

The apartment remained free of visitors most of the night, and other than making short trips to pee, Vincent didn't want me to me leave the bed. In fact, he seemed perfectly happy to act as my personal butler.

Bates showed up to clean and collect our dirty clothes, but he didn't seem interested in sticking around to gush over the baby. He admitted to having little experience with kids, but jealousy may have played a role in his swift departure.

Despite Vincent's opinion that I was an invalid, I felt pretty good by the next day, and while he took a call in his office, I left our son snoozing to freshen up. It felt like days since I'd pulled a brush through my hair, and when I saw my reflection in the mirror, I almost didn't recognize myself.

I still wasn't sure how I felt about the black streaks and whether I should do something about them. Chances were good that Todd and Claude had seen the recent photos of me waddling through the park, and both had probably gasped in horror. I, honestly, didn't care what anyone thought. They hadn't been blessed by a goddess. The streaks were staying.

Halfway through my bathroom routine, junior decided he didn't like being left alone, and while I hurried to brush my teeth, his cries grew louder. I was just pulling on a fresh pair of sweatpants when Vincent walked into the room.

"What are you doing out of bed?" he said, picking up his son and shushing him with soft coos.

I had a hard time keeping the smile off my face as I watched fatherly Vincent. It was a side of him that only showed up when Griffin was around. "A girl has needs. Besides, I'm feeling better."

"I know you. You push yourself too hard."

"Look who's talking." I smirked as I took hold of his sleeve and pulled him down for a kiss. "I'm starving. Did Griffin leave any of those croissants?"

"Yes, and there's fresh fruit. I'll bring you a plate."

"No need. I can walk to the kitchen. Junior probably needs his diaper changed, if you want to do that."

"Junior?" Vincent's eyebrows rose as he avoided a flailing arm that seemed to be aiming for his chin.

"I don't like calling him the baby, so I thought junior would work until we come up with a name."

"Have you thought about names?" He walked our fussy boy to the changing table, and I followed.

"Yes, but I'm still getting to know him. He's a Valentino. I want to do right by the domus."

A big smile grew on Vincent's face as he wrestled with his ornery son. "That sounds reasonable. Have you taken your temperature recently?"

"It's been hovering at ninety-nine since you checked it last."

"And what about the device? Is it still there?"

I grimaced, recalling my last trip to the toilet. "Yes, it's still there."

"I put a call in to Dr. Hardwick, and she'll be swinging by the penthouse later this afternoon to give you your postpartum exam. She'll be able to tell us if she can remove it."

I nodded silently as I handed him a clean diaper and the butt paste. Then I watched Vincent tackle the job of changing our baby, who had progressed into full-fussy mode. He moved in synchronicity with the boy's kicks and jabs, as if they had worked out the choreography together, and when the job was done, Vincent wore a satisfied smile, although his son was red-faced and wailing.

"I believe you're up." He handed the baby over to me and guided me back to bed. "I'll bring you a plate. I don't want my beautiful wife to starve while she's feeding our hungry boy."