Page 92 of By the Letter

His brow furrowed. “So, she picked it.”

“She told me a name she liked, and I agreed. It’s nice, classic, and him sharing a name with Jonah Lomu is not a downside.” I frowned at him. “Why? You don’t like my kid’s name?”

He grunted and got back to work on the changing table. “It’s a fine name. Nice to name him after someone.”

“I thought so too. I have to come up with a middle name. Any ideas? We don’t exactly have too many family members worthy of giving him their name.”

“Hmmm. Let me think about it.”

We did our own thing side by side in silence. When Adrian said he wanted to think, he meant it. I could practically hear his mind churning.

“Weren’t you just telling me about Ryan Carson’s new charity?”

“Yeah…”

I didn’t know where he was going with this. Ryan Carson had been one of the stars of New Zealand’s national team, the All Blacks. Since he retired, he’d been doing a lot of good for underprivileged kids and helping other players manage their lives after retirement. I didn’t know the man personally, but I admired all he’d done, both on and off the field.

Adrian cocked his head. “Jonah Carson Wells has a ring to it, doesn’t it?”

I let that rattle around in my brain then said it aloud. “Jonah Carson Wells. JCW. Good initials.” I scrubbed my jaw, letting the name settle. “Huh. I think…yeah, I like it.”

He grinned. “Now watch him hate rugby.”

I chuckled. “That’s all right. He can like what he wants. Being named after good people doesn’t mean he has to go down the same path. I just want him to emulate the good.”

“He doesn’t need a name to do that. He’s got you as a dad, steering him where he needs to go. He’ll be good.”

“And Shira as a mom,” I added.

He grunted. “Right.”

Before I could list all the ways Shira was good, kind, forgiving, incredible, she appeared in the doorway.

“Hey. I knocked, but I assumed you were hammering and didn’t hear me—” She cut herself off when her eyes landed on Adrian. “Oh, I’m so sorry. I thought you were alone and wanted to bring you the cookies I just baked. I can come back.”

She was already turning by the time I climbed to my feet and closed the distance between us. I caught her hand, pulling her right back around.

“You’re not going anywhere, Goldie,” I rumbled. “You need to come try out the glider that got delivered this morning.”

She blinked up at me, giving me those fathomless eyes of hers I had to battle to keep on me.

“Are you sure?”

“I wouldn’t have stopped you from leaving if I didn’t want you here. Come supervise us. Make sure we don’t miss any pieces.”

I tugged her into the room with me. Adrian had stood, but he wasn’t exactly jumping with joy to greet her.

“Hey, Shira.” He tucked his hands in his jeans, his eyes locking in on her belly, which was hard to miss these days. “How are you feeling?”

Knowing what he was asking, she peered down at her bump then up at him. “Unwieldy, but otherwise really good.” She tried to slip her hand from mine—I suspected to tuck her hair—but I wasn’t letting her go. “Anything is better than the first trimester.”

He nodded but didn’t say another peep. Still, he kept looking at where my son was growing, the undeniable bloom of life springing forth from Shira’s center.

I had a hard time not staring at her bump too, so I got it.

Taking the box of cookies from her, I guided her over to the glider, which was really a cushy armchair that moved. “Sit down and give this a whirl. I think you’re going to like it, baby.”

Her butt hit the plush seat, and Shira sighed, letting her head loll against the cushion. “Wow,” she sighed. “If this doesn’t put Beanie to sleep, he’s superhuman. I’m almost ready to knock out, and I just sat down.”

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