Page 98 of Tattered Edges

I wasn’t alone.

Not anymore.

Not ever again.

There were no more words left to say. He’d said them all. So rather than speak, I lifted my head off the bed, pressed my lips against his, and kissed him until I was breathless.

Rory

Nine and a Half Months Later

Hewokewithouttheassistance of an alarm, reaching into the space beside him. The sheets were cool, which meant she’d been up for a while. He wondered who had woken first—his woman or his babe.

Before the birth of their son, Sawyer was not what he would have called a light sleeper. In the month since they’d brought home their little one, it was as if she slept with one ear open—always in tune with every breath of the newborn. Sometimes, Rory swore they were in sync, Sawyer anticipating when he might need her just a moment before he started to cry.

Having slept through the night, Rory didn’t linger between the warmth of their sheets but got up, slipped into a pair of sweatpants, and went in search of his loves.

In the very beginning, he’d offered to help out with night feedings, but Sawyer wouldn’t hear of it. While it was true she was breastfeeding, and she cherished the bond that existed between a mother and her babe while he fed, that wasn’t the only reason why. Rory knew, without her having to say it, how important it was for her to show up for their son. She wanted him to know she was there, that she would never abandon him, and he was unconditionally loved.

He didn’t fight her need to prove herself. He’d learned there were some battles he couldn’t win. Rather, he made sure to help in any other way he could, ensuring Sawyer could nap whenever and as often as she wanted.

Rory didn’t bother checking the nursery before he headed down the stairs.

Their little family of three lived in the flat above Tattered Edges. It was a decision they’d made before Sawyer completed her first trimester. They decided above a bookstore was quieter than above a pub and better suited for their needs. In the months that followed, they made her place theirs—complete with a nursery fit for a king. But it was the new sofa they’d purchased only a couple of months ago that Sawyer loved to frequent with their boy. She’d curl up with him in the corner, both of them tucked beneath a blanket near the tree with all its sparkling lights.

When Rory reached the kitchen, he stopped when he caught sight of them and admired them for a moment.

He thought he loved her before—and then she’d born him Tiernan.

There was nothing he loved more than watching the two of them together. She’d been so afraid she lacked any sort of maternal instinct; but from the moment the doctor placed their son in her arms, she’d been the most loving, tender, and attentive mother he’d ever seen. When it was just the two of them, and she didn’t know Rory was watching, Sawyer would get lost in the baby’s blue eyes. Rory had seen her fall in love with Tiernan over and over—and he swore, he’d never get tired of it.

“Daddy thinks we don’t see him watching us, but we do. We do, don’t we? Yeah, that’s my sweet boy,” Sawyer cooed playfully

Rory smirked, raking his fingers through his hair as he continued into the next room. Sawyer looked up when he came to a stop in front of them.

Speaking through a smile, she said, “Merry Christmas, baby.”

He bent to press his lips to hers before he replied, “Happy Christmas, sweetheart.” He kissed her once more, then turned his attention onto their boy, his eyes alert and curious. “Happy Christmas to you, too,” he murmured, kissing the soft, red hair atop his head.

“You want him? He probably has a good twenty minutes left.”

Rory didn’t hesitate but lifted Tiernan into his arms.

“How long have you been up?”

“Maybe an hour. He slept for five straight last night.”

“Look at you, already gifting mummy the best presents.”

Sawyer hummed a quiet laugh as she got to her feet and stretched. “I think I might grab a quick shower. Diane and Brady said they’d try to be here by ten, and your parents won’t be long behind them.”

“Sure,” he said, nodding toward the stairs. “Go ahead. We’re good here.”

Sawyer

Ihurriedthroughthekitchen, then stopped before I reached the stairs and looked back at my guys. Rory gazed down at our boy and rocked gently from side to side as he paced slowly around the coffee table. I smiled to myself at the sight. I told him Tiernan might last a good twenty minutes—but if he kept rocking him like that, I gave him ten. Tops.

It had been almost a year since I moved to London, and my life wasn’t at all what I expected it to be.

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