Page 50 of The Man I Love

Sophia’s whimpers transformed into coos, the coos became softer, and soon the entire house fell into silence.

Sam took a deep breath, watching baby Sophia stare at her mother’s face as though she were the most amazing thing in the world. “I wouldn’t have missed this for anything,” Sam whispered, and it was the absolute truth. Of all the things she would miss most about New York, it was Renee, Phin, and watching little Sophia grow up that would break her.

This was only the second time Sam had met Sophia, yet she was already bigger than in the hospital. Older, stronger, and more awake. Samantha imagined how different she’d look ina couple of months when her own baby was born.

In a couple of months.

When her own baby was born.

For the second time that day, her mind began spinning.

“Are you guys hungry?” Renee asked, turning toward Tristan as she handed him the baby. “We have chips, sandwiches...” She led Sam down the hall and toward the kitchen.

A plethora of food covered the bar, but all Sam could do was focus on how tiny Sophia appeared in Tristan’s arms.

This wasn’t the first time he’d held an infant in her presence, yet a rush of emotion washed over her like a tidal wave.

He looked natural. At peace. More relaxed than he’d been since they’d left her apartment.

Tristan Montgomery wasn’t one of those men that held a baby at arm’s length, he placed her on his chest, cozied up in one arm as he patted her back with the other.

Renee continued pulling things from the refrigerator. Potato salad, some sort of Jello, and an entire array of condiments.

Sam forced her eyes away from Tristan. “You guys didn’t need to do this,” she said to her best friend. “It’s too much.”

“Do what?” Renee asked.

“This. All this food! You just had a baby, for God’s sake!” Sam turned toward Tristan again, hoping he’d back her up, but little Sophia was now facing him and staring up into his face. Theywere looking at each other as though they were old friends. Her little legs squished up into his chest like a frog—her tiny fists waving around as she made soft cooing noises.

Renee must have noticed too, because soon she was at her brother’s side, yanking the glasses from his face. “You’re meeting your niece for the first time, brother; let’s not give her nightmares, okay?”

It was only for a second, but Tristan’s eyes shifted to Samantha, red-rimmed and full of emotion she hadn’t been prepared for. She stepped backward, thankful the counter was behind her as she thudded against the sink.

Maybe he was tired, maybe he’d been up all night as he flew from L.A., but something inside her knew it was more than that. Soon it would be their baby in his arms. Soon it would be his responsibility. His DNA. His child that he held so close.

Of course, this moment would be emotional for him.

“I think she likes you,” Renee said to Tristan, forcing Samantha to look down at her feet. She was about to lose it. Right here, right in the middle of her best friend’s kitchen.

Having grown up as an only child, she’d always been envious of Tristan and Renee’s relationship. They fought like cats and dogs, claimed to hate each other, but always sought each other out. Like a mouse to a block of cheese, Renee stepped closer, admiring her daughter’s yellow hair as she pushed it from her daughter’s forehead. “How is it that I birthed this child, yet she came out looking like my brother?”

Tristan laughed. “Nah, she looks like you, Ren,” he argued.

Renee smiled, tilted her head to the side, then slipped a sock off Sophie’s foot to show off her five perfect toes. “You think?” she asked longingly.

“Sure,” he said softly. “It’s the nose, I think. It looks a little piggish.”

Renee hit him hard on the shoulder, then took Sophia from his arms. “Insult my daughter again, Tristan Montgomery. I dare you.” But there was a twinkle in her eye when she turned her back.

Tristan peeked over her shoulder without skipping a beat, his chin resting on the top of his sister’s head. “She’s beautiful, Ren. Just like her mama.”

Samantha lost it. Tears rushed to her eyes, and she pushed away from the counter. “Is the bathroom over here?” she yelled, not waiting for a reply as she raced toward the hall.

“Second door on the left,” Phin called.

In two seconds flat, she found the door, closed it behind her, and locked it. Her head pressed against the surface, her breaths coming in rapid pants as she began to hyperventilate. “Slow,” she demanded of her breathing. “In and out. One at a time, you can do this.” She hadn’t slept well in days—in weeks, if she was being honest with herself, and exhaustion had finally caught up with her.

“Everything okay?” Renee asked a moment later.

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