Page 245 of Branded
A while later, her lids slid open. “I want our own,” she whispered, sending my heart pounding as her eyes connected with mine. “We’ll rock it as aunt and uncle, but we’re going to kill it as parents.”
I tucked my phone away then smoothed back her hair, smiled at the woman who owned me. “Plus, it’ll be fun putting in the effort to make them.”
She grinned, but then started to sit up. “I should?—”
“Rest.” A squeeze of her hand. “You should rest and recover your strength and then get back to the I shoulds.”
“Right,” she whispered, lids already struggling to stay open. “When did you get so smart?”
“Probably around the time I watched you push those babies out, sugarpie.”
Her head tilted toward me, a blip of uncertainty. “Was it too much?”
“It was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, honey.”
“Oh.”
“Though Pru and Marcel holding them was a close second.”
Beth’s face gentled. “They’ll be great parents.”
“They already are.”
“Yeah.” Her eyes closed. “Mila is so wonder—” She broke off on a yawn.
I smoothed her hair again, coaxed her to sleep, and then when her eyes were closed, I glanced down at her hand in mine.
And smiled.
And…wondered how long it would take for her to realize that I’d just slipped a giant ass diamond ring on her finger.
Or to see the cooler of beers Pru had left by the door.
“You know,” she whispered, a week later, curled up beside me in bed. “I’m really not minding having my body back.”
“Because of the ability to drink beer?”
“Well, that,” she said, cuddling closer, “and because this fits.”
She held up her hand, my diamond glittering in the pale light.
“Does that mean you’ve finally noticed it?”
In fairness, the moment her eyes had landed on the ring, she’d softened, eyes going damp, and she’d leaned up to kiss me.
Acceptance without words.
Though, a yes wouldn’t have been remiss.
Except, then Pru and Marcel had come back, and Beth had begun pumping, and then there had been feedings and diaper changes and checks by nurses and doctors.
The days had been a blur of activity, and by the time she and I had made it home, we’d slept for what felt like two full days—and that was without having to care for two tiny humans. Still, Beth was pumping like a champ, the twins were growing, Mila Rose had adjusted without incident, and Pru and Marcel had gone from a family of two to five in just a few months.
“Maybe,” she murmured, grinning as she rotated her hand from side to side. “It is very sparkly, and you know how much I like that.”
“Pain in my ass,” I muttered.
She burrowed into my side. “One you love.”
