I scribbled quickly. “And warm milk for him.”
I smiled at the baby. “Coming right up.”
The child froze. His eyes locked onto mine. Then both hands lifted. At first I thought he was stretching. Then he leaned toward me — not casually, desperately. His fingers opened and closed, and a small broken sound came from his throat.
“Hey there,” I whispered without thinking.
The baby lunged harder. Luca caught him under the arms. The little boy whimpered. One of the men at the table frowned. “Leo.”
The baby ignored him. “Leo,” Luca repeated. Leo’s lower lip trembled, and then he began to cry — not the irritated fussing of a tired child, but heartbreak. Immediate, breathless, panicked heartbreak. Every time Luca drew him back, Leo reached toward me again. People started looking.
“I’m sorry,” Luca muttered, shifting him. “It’s okay.” “He’s tired.” “Clearly I have that effect on men.”
The sentence slipped out before I remembered Greg’s warning. One of Luca’s men looked down, possibly hiding a smile. Luca stared at me, and for half a second I was sure I had just ended my employment. Then one corner of his mouth moved. Barely.
“You joke when you’re nervous.”
“I joke constantly, so that’s probably concerning.”
Leo screamed louder. I crouched until my face was level with his. “Hey.”
He stopped. Just like that. One ragged breath left him. His wet eyes stared into mine. I smiled. Leo made a tiny sound, and then his face changed. There is no reasonable word for it, but what I saw was recognition. His whole little body relaxed. He reached for my face, and his fingers brushed my cheek.
Luca went perfectly still. Behind him, the older of his two companions whispered, “Jesus.”
“What?” I asked. Nobody answered. I started to straighten, and Leo’s hand caught my apron. The crying returned instantly.
“Avery.” Luca had read my name tag. “Yes?” “Would you hold him?”
“Would you hold him?”
I stared. “Excuse me?” “Just for a minute.” Greg would have died on the spot if he had heard. I probably should have refused. Instead, Luca stood and carefully set Leo in my arms.
The baby pressed his face against my shoulder. One little fist closed around my necklace. Then he sighed — not a fuss, not a cry, a sigh, like he had finally arrived somewhere safe.
Everyone at the table stopped breathing.