Page 89 of Better Daddy
A content sigh escapes him. “A thousand todays would never be enough.”
I close my eyes and rest my head against his steady heart. Because he’s right.
But I’m excited to have as many of them with this man as I can get.
Chapter 31
Sully
Blue or pink.
On the bed, two shirts are laid out. One blue, one pink.
Today is the day we find out whether we’re having a little girl or another little man. My crazy-arse brother was set on having T-shirts made, one sportingTeam Blueand the otherTeam Pink.
I would have gone along with it, but Sloane didn’t love the idea of wearing a T-shirt, so instead I had buttons made and told everyone to wear their team color. Hopefully everyone in this bloody flat did. I’m still debating between the powder blue and the pale pink polo.
I had the doctor write the baby’s gender on two slips of paper and seal them in envelopes, then I took one to the bakery down the road and had them make a cupcake filled with either blue or pink frosting, depending on the single word on that piece of paper, for T.J. to snack on during the ultrasound. With any luck, it’ll save us from having to explain the whole lack of a penis in front of an ultrasound tech. Knowing T.J., he will have many questions, and there will be no filter.
Until this week, I never imagined I could be as over-the-top as my brother, but here I am. I took the second envelope to the florist andordered a massive bouquet of either blue flowers or pink and arranged to have it delivered to Sloane this afternoon.
It might be a lot, but I just want everything to be perfect for today. Including the health of the baby and my wife. I refuse to even think about preeclampsia or losing her. Not when this pregnancy had been going so well.
As I eye the shirts again, a phrase I’ve been hearing a lot floats through my head.Don’t doubt a mother’s intuition. Sloane is sure this is a baby boy. So sure that she has already started a list of potential boy names starting withT. Regardless of gender, we’re sticking with aTname to go with T.J. Since Sloane and I both haveSnames, it’s fitting. Can’t say I love Tristan, but it’s currently her favorite.
My eyes drift back to the pink polo. I cannot erase the image of a dark-haired little girl with Sloane’s blue eyes and smile from my mind. So, I might be wrong, but I’m going pink.
I slip the polo over my head and wander out to the kitchen, trying not to second-guess my choice. The last thing I want is for Sloane to think I don’t trust her.
Cal’s eyes narrow at me the second he sees my shirt. “Blue.” He points to his navy pants, blue dress shirt and blue striped tie. “Blue,” he repeats, pointing to the two buttons he’s pinned to his chest, one on each side of his tie. “Even Fuzzy understands.” He nods toward his cat, who’s batting at himself, trying to dislodge the massive blue bow someone—probably Cal—put around his neck.
I sigh. We had a conversation about the risks of going against Sloane’s intuition. I’m not against Sloane in any way. She’s probably right, and I will be thrilled with another son. But I can’t help the way my heart tugs at the thought of a baby girl.
Frowning, he flings a hand toward his girlfriend. “She got the memo.”
Lo scoffs. “I think it’s a girl, but I don’t do pink. So.” She gestures to her dress. “Navy it is.”
Brian hardly looks up from his laptop, where he’s probablyreading theWall Street Journallike he does every morning as he leans to the left, showing off his team blue button and matching tie.
Before I can respond, T.J. races out of his room in a Superman T-shirt. “Team Blue!” he announces with a fist pump. “Baby brother, here I come.”
“Murph.” Cal frowns, craning his neck.
When I get a look at my nephew, the betrayal in my brother’s tone makes sense. Murphy is sporting a skateboarding shirt with a sunset painted in oranges and pinks.
“Well.” He rocks back on his little feet and tucks his hands into the pockets of his pants, looking so much like his dad. “I know you said not to upset Aunt Sloane, but I think she’s wrong.” His forehead scrunches a bit. “Plus.” He squints at my son, who is running around the room, arms spread wide like he’s an airplane, chasing Dammit. “I think one T.J. is enough for this family.”
Brian chokes on a cough; I can’t help but smile.
A throat clears softly, then my wife appears at the end of the hall. Her bright blue sweater matches her eyes and her face is glowing, making her look even more beautiful than she normally does.
“Pink, huh?” She steps up and wraps an arm around my waist.
“I’m not itching for a row. I swear—” I stammer.
She lifts a finger to my lips, silencing me. “I might be feeling boy,” she whispers, a soft smile twitching at her lips. “But I hope you’re right.”
“Just to make it interesting,” Cal pipes in. “Let’s make a bet. Losing team cleans the?—”
