Page 31 of Bargain Match

“Well, I’m sure you won’t be surprised that Glynis mentions her own name is unique and strong.”

“Of course she did.” I gingerly pull my knees up and rest the baby on them so I can get a better look at her. “What do you say, sweetheart? Are you a Glynis?”

She stretches and scrunches up her face.

“I’d say that’s a ‘hell, no.’ Right, young lady?” Burke perches on the bed next to us. I look up in time to see his lips curve up on one side into a half grin. It’s the same expression our daughter is now wearing.

My already overflowing heart spills over a little more.

I swallowed past a lump in my throat, but my voice is still thick with emotion. “Did they have any other suggestions?

“There’s quite a list.” He gently wraps an arm around my shoulder, and I lean into him. Savoring this first family cuddle of ours. “Fiona.”

“For the woman at the bakery,” I muse, stroking the light hair on our daughter’s head.

“Heather and Primrose.”

“For the flowers in my bridal bouquet, no doubt.”

He gives another smile at that and reads through more of the list—Bonnie, Davina, Freya, Sophie, and Alba. Each with their own little explanation.

Then he pauses.

I turn my head against his chest to look up at him. “Is that it?”

“There’s one more name?”

“Oh?”

Our daughter coos, distracting us both for a moment. We watch in fascination as she stretches the fingers on one of her hands—as if she’s just figured out she can move them—and wraps them around one of mine.

Burke releases a contented sigh. My eyes fill up with unshed tears.

I didn’t know it was possible to feel so much love for someone I just met. Then again, I suppose this little lady and I have spent a lot of time together over the past forty weeks.

But now that she’s here—now that we’re all together, just the three of us—there’s this overwhelming sense of connectedness. One that feels like we were all always meant to be together.

Remembering what we were talking about—and the fact that our daughter does still need a name—I remind Burke about the letter and the list.

“Right, the final name.” He rubs his lips together. “It’s Isla.”

“Isla,” I whisper.

“It’s the name of?—”

“The river where we spent our stranded night together.” I could never forget that place for its meaning. “It was so beautiful.”

“Beautiful like our daughter and her mother.”

I beam at him. “I’m sure I look stunning right now, with my tangled hair, rings under my eyes, and not a stitch of makeup to be seen.”

“You do.” He leans toward me to brush his lips across mine. “You’re beautiful every day, but especially today.”

“Smooth talker.”

He just chuckles. “So, Isla?”

I nod, turning back to stare at our little girl. “What do you say? Are you Isla?”

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