Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 75656 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75656 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Kira catches my attention and smiles like she knows exactly what I’m thinking.
We stay about an hour, maybe a little longer, careful not to overdo it. We each get an opportunity to hold the baby, and Weston, in particular, looks like a natural.
“Careful, Monroe,” Silas says. “That’s how they get you.”
Weston doesn’t even flinch. “Too late.”
Buck accepts a turn, too, and holds the baby with surprising gentleness for such a broad, solid man. He doesn’t say much, but the look on his face when Felicity curls her tiny fingers reflexively against his shirt is something I’ll be thinking about for a while.
Calder declines at first, then eventually takes her from Atlas, and when she settles in his arms, I’d swear some deep, guarded place inside him opens up.
Kira watches it all with a sleepy satisfaction, and I love her a little extra for sharing this part of her happiness with us.
When it’s time to go, I kiss her cheek and squeeze her hand. “You look beautiful,” I tell her.
She gives me a tired smile. “That’s a lie, but thank you.”
“It is not. I’ll see you again soon. Enjoy every minute, and get as much rest as you can.”
T.J. whispers a goodbye to Felicity, and then we leave.
The ride home is a contented kind of quiet for the first several miles. Then T.J. talks about how small Felicity’s hands are and wonders whether babies can dream. Weston answers that question and several more, until T.J.’s voice tapers off. By the time Buck turns onto the home stretch, I glance back and find him asleep against the seat belt.
At the house, Calder carries T.J. inside, and to my amazement, he doesn’t fully wake up, even when I take off his shoes, and Calder lays him in his bed. With eyes barely slitted open, T.J. reaches for Hopper, hugs him close, and murmurs, “Goodnight,” as I pull the covers over him.
“He hasn’t done that in years,” I whisper to Calder when we’re back out in the hallway. “Of course, he’s been too big for me to carry in from the car for a while now.”
Calder gives me a small, warm smile, puts his arm around my shoulder, and holds me close as we join the others in the living room. Buck’s at one end of the couch, so we sit down next to him, me in the middle.
Weston, who’s sitting in one of the chairs, lifts his brows and tilts his head toward T.J.’s room. “Out like a light.”
I smile contentedly and lean back against Calder’s shoulder. “He sure was.”
A warm and easy quiet settles over the room. I’m still a little full of baby sweetness, of Felicity’s tiny weight in my arms, and that soft newborn smell that made my heart ache.
“Seeing them with the baby today did something to all of you, didn’t it?” I ask.
Weston smiles. “You noticed?”
“You weren’t subtle.”
Buck’s hand settles on my knee, solid and warm. “No reason to be.”
My pulse flutters. “No?”
Weston leans forward. “If you want another baby, we’re in.”
Calder brushes his thumb against my arm. “Completely.”
I let out a helpless little laugh as heat rushes to my face. “Are you sure you’re not just saying that because we met Felicity today?”
A barely audible sound comes from Buck’s throat, almost a growl. “I think you know us well enough by now to know we’re not impulsive.”
He’s right.
Buck gives my knee a slow squeeze. “We’re not talking about rushing anything. T.J. comes first, and he needs to feel fully settled and secure. But when the time comes, if it’s what you want, we’ll be ready.”
Weston reaches for my hand. “More than ready.”
“We talked about it a couple of times recently,” Calder says. “These two educated me on how taking care of a baby is different from raising an eight-year-old.”
I laugh again, my chest fluttering. “Definitely different. You think you’re all ready for sleepless nights and diaper changes?”
Weston comes closer, kneels at my feet, and takes my hand. “You think we’d say no to more of you? To more family?”
“More family … I love that.” I kiss him, then Buck, and Calder, and with each kiss, and each thought of having a baby with these men, my heart is so full, I’m surprised it fits in my chest.
“You’re all already wonderful dads,” I say. “I’d love to have a baby with you, when we’re all ready.”
After more kissing, I pull back. “So you’re no longer panicked about the idea?”
Weston shakes his head. “We’re enthusiastic.”
“Even about the diaper changes,” Calder says.
I slide my hand along his cheek and smile up at him. “I can definitely tell you’ve never changed one before.”
As the four of us laugh and hug, hands reach for mine, as other hands hold me and support me.
For years, being T.J.’s only parent meant carrying everything myself: the decisions, the worry, the exhaustion, and the constant hum of responsibility that never fully let me rest. Now, tucked against Calder with Buck’s and Weston’s hands holding me, I feel surrounded, supported, and loved in a way I never imagined I would again.