When I'm with You (Hope Town #3)(83)

“Okay, firecracker. No more babies.”

Hell, I would agree with her if she told me the sky was purple and the grass was black at this point. Anything to get her to stop looking at me like the devil has possessed her body.

Her eyes tear, and her face changes. Instead of anger, she looks like I just told her that all the puppies in the world are dead. “You don’t want more babies with me?”

I look over at the doctor between her legs when he snickers, and I try to figure out how to answer that without pissing her off more. Her hand tightens as another contraction hits, and the doctor tells her to push. I welcome the pain of my crushing bones since they just saved me from potentially saying something to make her head start spinning.

“That’s great, Ember. One more just like that.”

“Good job, baby,” I soothingly say. “Just a few more.”

I hope.

Almost thirty minutes later, Ember is worn out and still pushing like a champ. I know everyone warned us that this takes time, but seeing her in so much pain is killing me.

“One more, Ember. One more strong push.”

I tighten the hold I have on one of her legs. She takes a deep breath and lifts her back off the hospital bed, curling into her round stomach. Her face reddens and she clamps her eyes tight as she pushes with every ounce of strength she has left. I count like I was told to and push her sweat-dampened hair out of her face with my free hand.

She falls back the second a loud cry starts to fill the room. She looks up, a tired smile on her face, and I bend to kiss her lips.

“It’s a girl!” the doctor announces and then places our baby on Ember’s chest.

I blink a few times to clear the emotion out of my eyes and give her another kiss before looking down at our child.

For the second time in my life, I gave my heart away. When I looked down at the cone-headed, blood-and-white-goo-covered, scrunched-in-anger face … I fell head over heels in love with our daughter.

I’m not sure who was crying more by the time the nurses took her off Ember’s chest to clean her up—Ember, me, or the baby. When I looked down, torn with staying at her side or going with the baby, Ember just reached out and gave me a shove.

One more kiss to my wife’s lips, and I stumbled like I was drunk over to where the nurses were working on my still very angry daughter. I stood by, my heart in my chest, and watched them. I feel powerless as she continues to cry, getting more pissed as they wipe her skin, and I have to clench my fists so I don’t knock them all to the ground and steal my child back.

Then, finally, I hear the words I’ve been waiting to hear since Ember told me she was pregnant.

“Would you like to hold your daughter?”

I nod, I think, and hold my arms up as she places her into the safety of her daddy’s arms. Her cries stop almost instantly as I make my way over to Ember. I got one glance at the doctor still working between her legs, and I quickly covered my shock at what I saw coming out of my wife before Ember noticed.

“Hey, Mommy,” I say softly to Ember, bending down to place the baby in her arms.

“Oh, Nate,” she coos. “She’s so beautiful.”

I run my fingertip over her satiny-smooth cheek. “Yeah,” I weakly respond.

“So tiny,” she muses.

I pull my eyes from our daughter and look at Ember. She’s smiling down at her with pure wonderment. Once again, my chest swells with love as I see my woman holding our girl. The two most important ladies in my world are right in front of me.

“Thank you, Emberlyn.” My voice wavers and she stops kissing our baby to look up at me. “You’ve once again made me the happiest man in the world. Thank you for providing me this kind of love and for giving us the most beautiful little girl.”

“Oh, honey.”

I bend over the bedrail and give her a deep kiss. When I pull away, I bend to bring my lips to our daughter’s forehead.

“Quinnly Grace,” I softly mummer. “We’re going to love you so much, baby. Mommy and Daddy are so happy you’re here.”





SIX MONTHS AND TWO WEEKS LATER



“WHY ARE YOU LOOKING AT me like that?” I drop my brush and turn to look where Nate is standing in the doorway of our bathroom.

“What way?”

I roll my eyes. “Like you’re starving.”

He pushes off the door jam and starts to stalk toward where I’m standing in front of the vanity. “Quinnie is sleeping,” he rasps. “I miss your belly round with my baby, Em. My little queen is growing too fast and she told me she wants a sister.” The gravelly tone to his voice is working its magic on my body even though I’m determined not to give in.

I hold the brush between us like a weapon. “Oh, she did, huh?”

He nods.

“Our daughter, the one who can only babble and drool, told you she wants a sister?”

He nods, his smile turning wicked.

“She’s just now crawling, Nate. We agreed, two years between children.”

He takes another step, frowning now.

“I’m going to give her what she wants.”

“You mean what you want.” I laugh, dropping the brush when he pulls me into his arms.

“I don’t see a difference here.”

His mouth drops to mine in one hell of a toe-curling kiss. I find my protests falling on deaf ears when he pulls my sundress over my head and cups my naked breasts; the feel of his hands on me never fails to render me incapable of speech.