Page 49 of Triplet Babies for Pucking Christmas

I head to her guest room, finding a pack of makeup wipes on her dresser. When I return, she’s still sound asleep, her face relaxed.

I crouch down, gently wiping the remnants of makeup from her cheeks, her eyelids. She stirs slightly but doesn’t wake, she just sighs softly as I finish cleaning her face.

With a careful lift, I pick her up, carrying her down the hall and into her room. Her floral bedspread stands out, bright and colorful against the neutral tones of the rest of the house. It makes me smile.

I lay her down, pulling the covers up and tucking her in, my hand lingering just a second longer as I brush a strand of hair away from her face. She looks so peaceful, so…natural here.

Leaning down, I press a light kiss to her forehead, then turn out the light, heading back to my own room.

I stand by Noah’s crib for a minute, watching him, his little chest rising and falling softly. He’s a damn miracle, this kid. And Savannah…well, she’s been a miracle too.

I finally slip into my bed, a strange sense of calm settling over me, and for the first time in a while, everything feels right.

***

It’s dark, and I’m in that weird space between asleep and awake when a wail pierces the quiet. Noah’s up.

I sit up, rubbing a hand over my face, and move to his crib. His little face is scrunched up, his fists clenched, and he’s letting out a cry that means business.

I scoop him up, bouncing him gently, whispering, “Hey, little guy, it’s okay. Just me. We got this.”

A few minutes go by, and then, sure enough, I hear the soft patter of feet. I look up, and there she is—Savannah, standing in the doorway, her hair all mussed from sleep, her eyes soft.

“How’d I get in bed?” she asks, blinking in confusion. She looks adorable, still half-asleep.

I smile. “You dozed off on the couch, so I carried you.”

She shakes her head, smiling softly. “Guess I was more exhausted than I thought.”

I nod down at Noah. “Want me to handle it? You should get some more sleep. I’ve got practice in a few hours, but I’m good.”

She steps closer, eyes on Noah. “I can care of him alone if you want. You need the rest more than I do.”

“It’s fine,” I say, patting her shoulder lightly. She sighs and, to my surprise, leans her head on my arm, watching as I gently rock the little guy. For a second, it hits me how…natural it feels, the three of us like this. It’s domestic, almost.

Finally, Noah calms down, his cries fading into soft coos. I lay him down carefully and change his diaper, then tuck him back into the crib. I turn back to Savannah, and she’s watching me, her eyes soft.

“Mind if I stay with him a bit?” she asks, almost shyly.

I chuckle. “Stay here. I mean, you’re exhausted, so…just borrow one of my shirts. We can take turns if he wakes up again.”

She blinks, surprised. “Are you sure?”

I nod, pointing to the dresser. “Top drawer. Grab one and make yourself comfortable.”

She hesitates for a second, but then heads over, grabbing one of my shirts and looking back at me as if to make sure it’s okay. I turn, giving her a little privacy, but all I can think about is her pulling on my shirt, the soft fabric draping over her, brushing against her skin.

The bed dips just a little as she climbs in, and I slide under the covers beside her, lying there, trying to keep my breathing even.

“Goodnight,” she whispers.

“Goodnight,” I say back, my voice barely above a murmur.

I lie there, willing myself not to turn around, not to do anything stupid. But the way she fits beside me, the warmth of her close by… it’s enough to keep me awake.

***

Morning comes too soon, and I wake up with the first rays of light streaming in through the window. There’s a softnessbeneath me, warmth that feels different, and I realize, too late, that I’ve rolled over.

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