Until Cobi
Page 44
I know April, know she’s probably already made a move to talk to whoever he is, and know without a doubt that he will be interested, because I have never met a guy who isn’t interested in her. She’s beautiful, funny, and outgoing—three things I am not. I’m cute enough, can be funny when I’m with my friends or family, but it takes time for me to warm up to people I don’t know. I’m also the opposite of outgoing. I prefer books and laziness to getting out and having adventures. I have always been the same way.
After I know I’m not going to do something crazy like punch my sister in the face, I leave the bathroom and start to head toward the bar, figuring one glass of wine won’t hurt. I place my order with the bartender then lean into the wood bar top with my forearms.
“You’re Sage’s cousin, right?” a deep voice asks, and my hair stands on end while butterflies take flight in my stomach.
I don’t have to look to know it’s him speaking. Still, I tip my head way back to catch his gaze. Lord, save me. He’s tall and so beautiful. I thought I got that from across the room, but seeing him up close is something else.
“I think he told me you were.” His brows draw together over his dark eyes surrounded by thick lashes as I stare at him.
I mentally slap myself and force my mouth to start working. “Yes, I’m December.”
His brow relaxes and he leans into the bar next to me with his hip, crossing his arms over his chest. “Another month.” His eyes twinkle with humor.
“Pardon?”
“Met a July, June, May, and April. Now, December.”
At the mention of April, my stomach twists. “Our parents were keeping with a theme.” I pick up my wine and take a very unladylike gulp. Why didn’t I see him first?
“Gareth.” His hand comes my way. I don’t want to take it, really don’t want to, but my manners force me to place my hand in his. When his rough, warm strength envelops my hand, my breath sticks in my lungs. “It’s nice to meet you.”
I lick my lips, and whisper, “You too.” With my hand still held in his, his gaze searches mine. The intense look in his eyes makes me feel funny, makes me feel like he sees some part of me I don’t even know about.
“I thought you weren’t drinking.” My eyes close, blocking out Gareth, as April suddenly tosses her arm around my shoulders. “You’re such a rebel, drinking wine when you’re supposed to get me home safely.”
“It’s just one glass. I’ll be fine to drive you home later.” I open my eyes and turn my head to look at her.
“I know,” she agrees, looking at me, and then she looks at Gareth and smiles. “My sister is a good girl. She always follows the rules.”
God, I really wish that weren’t true.
Epilogue
Hadley
WITH CHLOE FINALLY LATCHED onto my breast, I study her beautiful little face while gently rocking her. At just five days old, we’re still in the process of me getting used to breastfeeding, and her taking my breast. It’s been a learning curve, but I can honestly say there is something beautiful about having her take whatever she needs from me.
When she’s finally had her fill, I adjust my shirt before bringing her up to my shoulder and rubbing her back. I press my nose into the top of her head and breathe in her scent, closing my eyes. The rattle of dog tags catches my attention, and I smile when I see Maxim wander into the room. He’s been a trooper the last few days, between spending time at Cobi’s mom and dad’s while I was in the hospital giving birth, and coming home to a baby eating up most of his parents’ time.
“Hey, big guy,” I say, and he sets his head on my lap then presses his nose into Chloe’s leg for a couple of seconds before looking up at me. “I know it’s going to take some getting used to, but you’ll be okay.”
I stop rubbing Chloe so I can scratch behind his ears, and then move my hand back to her when she lets out a cry. Maxim lifts his head from my lap, tipping it from side to side, studying her before going and lying down next to her crib with a long groan.
After Chloe has burped and gone to sleep, I lay her down in her crib and turn on the baby monitor so I can watch her while I’m in the kitchen. Maxim doesn’t move from his spot next to her crib, but then again, when she’s in there, he never does. When I make it to the kitchen, I see Cobi left the news playing on the TV before he left to run to the store. I don’t change it; instead, I pour myself some orange juice, drink it, and then go to the couch. Taking the monitor with me, I set it on the coffee table before I lie down.
Cobi wanted us to move from the townhouse during my last trimester into an actual home with a yard, but I put my foot down and refused. The place is perfect for us, and just the right amount of rooms. I know that eventually we will build a house on the piece of property his parents deeded out to him and me as a wedding gift, but I don’t want to move before then. This place holds special memories for me, memories filled with falling in love and building a family. These walls hold our story, and even though I know we will eventually grow out of this place, I’m not ready to let it go just yet.
I feel fingers trail down the side of my face and open my eyes, sitting up quickly. “It’s okay, just wanted to let you know I’m back,” Cobi says, and I notice he has Chloe resting in the crook of his tattooed arm.
“Did she wake up?” I ask, feeling like a horrible mom if she woke up and I didn’t hear her.
“No, saw you asleep, went to check on her, and couldn’t resist picking her up.” He gives me a sheepish smile.
“I think we’re spoiling her.” I run my fingers across her cheek, and her lips pucker in response.
“And I don’t think I care,” he responds, looking down at her for a moment before lifting his eyes to mine. “I’ll always spoil my girls.” My face gets soft and I lean over Chloe and press my lips to his jaw. When I pull away, I touch my fingers to where my lips were.
“We love you,” I whisper.
“I know,” he whispers back.
He thinks he does, but he really has no idea the way I feel for him. I love him, but every time I see him with our daughter, and how devoted he is to her, I know I love him. He’s given me everything along with the proof that love is worth fighting for.
Cobi
A couple of months later . . .
I wake when I feel the bed shift, and watch Hadley through the darkness get up and leave the room. I start to sit up, but stop when I hear her through the baby monitor still sitting on my nightstand.
I listen, staring at the ceiling, as she talks to Chloe before starting to sing quietly. Since the day we brought Chloe home from the hospital, Hadley has jumped every time Chloe’s made the smallest noise. Always rushing to pick her up before I even have the chance to. I thought with a little time she’d relax, but she hasn’t, and it’s started to worry me. I know she doesn’t want to be anything like her mom was, and she’s not. She’s an amazing mom, devoted, loving, and beyond patient.
When her singing comes to an end, I get up and head out of the room. When I make it to the door to the nursery, I spot Maxim next to the crib asleep then lean against the jamb as my wife places our sleeping daughter in her bed. When she spots me after lifting her head, her expression shifts and pure love shines from her eyes.
I hold out my hand, and when she takes it, I pull her against me. “I would have gotten up with her, baby.”
“I know.” She smiles. “But unfortunately, you’re not equipped with what she needed.”
“I would have brought her to you,” I say as I lead her to our room. Once we’re both in bed, I drag the blankets over us and pull her against my side. I wait until she’s settled before I speak. “You’re a good mom.”
“What?”
I feel her move, and tip my head down to look into her eyes with the light coming in from the street. “You’re a good mom, a great mom, baby, but you’re not a single parent forced to do it all alone,” I tell her, feeling her body get tight against mine.
“I know,” she says quietly, lifting up and placing her hands against my abs. “I just want her to know I’m here. That if she needs me, I’m right there with her. I never want her to question that. Question if I love her. I don’t want her to ever feel alone.”
After I know I’m not going to do something crazy like punch my sister in the face, I leave the bathroom and start to head toward the bar, figuring one glass of wine won’t hurt. I place my order with the bartender then lean into the wood bar top with my forearms.
“You’re Sage’s cousin, right?” a deep voice asks, and my hair stands on end while butterflies take flight in my stomach.
I don’t have to look to know it’s him speaking. Still, I tip my head way back to catch his gaze. Lord, save me. He’s tall and so beautiful. I thought I got that from across the room, but seeing him up close is something else.
“I think he told me you were.” His brows draw together over his dark eyes surrounded by thick lashes as I stare at him.
I mentally slap myself and force my mouth to start working. “Yes, I’m December.”
His brow relaxes and he leans into the bar next to me with his hip, crossing his arms over his chest. “Another month.” His eyes twinkle with humor.
“Pardon?”
“Met a July, June, May, and April. Now, December.”
At the mention of April, my stomach twists. “Our parents were keeping with a theme.” I pick up my wine and take a very unladylike gulp. Why didn’t I see him first?
“Gareth.” His hand comes my way. I don’t want to take it, really don’t want to, but my manners force me to place my hand in his. When his rough, warm strength envelops my hand, my breath sticks in my lungs. “It’s nice to meet you.”
I lick my lips, and whisper, “You too.” With my hand still held in his, his gaze searches mine. The intense look in his eyes makes me feel funny, makes me feel like he sees some part of me I don’t even know about.
“I thought you weren’t drinking.” My eyes close, blocking out Gareth, as April suddenly tosses her arm around my shoulders. “You’re such a rebel, drinking wine when you’re supposed to get me home safely.”
“It’s just one glass. I’ll be fine to drive you home later.” I open my eyes and turn my head to look at her.
“I know,” she agrees, looking at me, and then she looks at Gareth and smiles. “My sister is a good girl. She always follows the rules.”
God, I really wish that weren’t true.
Epilogue
Hadley
WITH CHLOE FINALLY LATCHED onto my breast, I study her beautiful little face while gently rocking her. At just five days old, we’re still in the process of me getting used to breastfeeding, and her taking my breast. It’s been a learning curve, but I can honestly say there is something beautiful about having her take whatever she needs from me.
When she’s finally had her fill, I adjust my shirt before bringing her up to my shoulder and rubbing her back. I press my nose into the top of her head and breathe in her scent, closing my eyes. The rattle of dog tags catches my attention, and I smile when I see Maxim wander into the room. He’s been a trooper the last few days, between spending time at Cobi’s mom and dad’s while I was in the hospital giving birth, and coming home to a baby eating up most of his parents’ time.
“Hey, big guy,” I say, and he sets his head on my lap then presses his nose into Chloe’s leg for a couple of seconds before looking up at me. “I know it’s going to take some getting used to, but you’ll be okay.”
I stop rubbing Chloe so I can scratch behind his ears, and then move my hand back to her when she lets out a cry. Maxim lifts his head from my lap, tipping it from side to side, studying her before going and lying down next to her crib with a long groan.
After Chloe has burped and gone to sleep, I lay her down in her crib and turn on the baby monitor so I can watch her while I’m in the kitchen. Maxim doesn’t move from his spot next to her crib, but then again, when she’s in there, he never does. When I make it to the kitchen, I see Cobi left the news playing on the TV before he left to run to the store. I don’t change it; instead, I pour myself some orange juice, drink it, and then go to the couch. Taking the monitor with me, I set it on the coffee table before I lie down.
Cobi wanted us to move from the townhouse during my last trimester into an actual home with a yard, but I put my foot down and refused. The place is perfect for us, and just the right amount of rooms. I know that eventually we will build a house on the piece of property his parents deeded out to him and me as a wedding gift, but I don’t want to move before then. This place holds special memories for me, memories filled with falling in love and building a family. These walls hold our story, and even though I know we will eventually grow out of this place, I’m not ready to let it go just yet.
I feel fingers trail down the side of my face and open my eyes, sitting up quickly. “It’s okay, just wanted to let you know I’m back,” Cobi says, and I notice he has Chloe resting in the crook of his tattooed arm.
“Did she wake up?” I ask, feeling like a horrible mom if she woke up and I didn’t hear her.
“No, saw you asleep, went to check on her, and couldn’t resist picking her up.” He gives me a sheepish smile.
“I think we’re spoiling her.” I run my fingers across her cheek, and her lips pucker in response.
“And I don’t think I care,” he responds, looking down at her for a moment before lifting his eyes to mine. “I’ll always spoil my girls.” My face gets soft and I lean over Chloe and press my lips to his jaw. When I pull away, I touch my fingers to where my lips were.
“We love you,” I whisper.
“I know,” he whispers back.
He thinks he does, but he really has no idea the way I feel for him. I love him, but every time I see him with our daughter, and how devoted he is to her, I know I love him. He’s given me everything along with the proof that love is worth fighting for.
Cobi
A couple of months later . . .
I wake when I feel the bed shift, and watch Hadley through the darkness get up and leave the room. I start to sit up, but stop when I hear her through the baby monitor still sitting on my nightstand.
I listen, staring at the ceiling, as she talks to Chloe before starting to sing quietly. Since the day we brought Chloe home from the hospital, Hadley has jumped every time Chloe’s made the smallest noise. Always rushing to pick her up before I even have the chance to. I thought with a little time she’d relax, but she hasn’t, and it’s started to worry me. I know she doesn’t want to be anything like her mom was, and she’s not. She’s an amazing mom, devoted, loving, and beyond patient.
When her singing comes to an end, I get up and head out of the room. When I make it to the door to the nursery, I spot Maxim next to the crib asleep then lean against the jamb as my wife places our sleeping daughter in her bed. When she spots me after lifting her head, her expression shifts and pure love shines from her eyes.
I hold out my hand, and when she takes it, I pull her against me. “I would have gotten up with her, baby.”
“I know.” She smiles. “But unfortunately, you’re not equipped with what she needed.”
“I would have brought her to you,” I say as I lead her to our room. Once we’re both in bed, I drag the blankets over us and pull her against my side. I wait until she’s settled before I speak. “You’re a good mom.”
“What?”
I feel her move, and tip my head down to look into her eyes with the light coming in from the street. “You’re a good mom, a great mom, baby, but you’re not a single parent forced to do it all alone,” I tell her, feeling her body get tight against mine.
“I know,” she says quietly, lifting up and placing her hands against my abs. “I just want her to know I’m here. That if she needs me, I’m right there with her. I never want her to question that. Question if I love her. I don’t want her to ever feel alone.”
