Page 71 of Retribution
“I need to buy baby clothes,” Isolde confesses. “I want to burn this onesie. The snaps will make me insane.”
“We’re already on the same page. Now, let’s choose a name and then we can call Lucas and Grant to tell them they’re parents,” I say, the absurdity of the statement making me chuckle.
“This is…insane,” she hiccups.
Oliver manages to get the diaper on, but it’s missing one of her butt cheeks completely.
“Great diaper skills,” I tease him, moving over to tug it into place. “I’m not fucking with the buttons, though.”
Unanimously deciding that none of us will, I resume my position on the couch.
“Names,” Isolde murmurs. “What about Meara?”
“That’s pretty,” Oliver agrees. “I have a great aunt with that name.”
“Do we hate her?” Isolde asks pensively.
“Yeah, she was a twat and enjoyed pinching my cheeks too hard,” Oliver admits.
“Not that then,” she decides.
“What about Clelia?” I ask.
“I’m not naming her something that reminds me of a clit,” she grumbles, making me clap my hand over my mouth to keep from falling out.
“Fuck,” I say, my voice muffled as I struggle to breathe. I can’t wake the baby up. Fuck.
My face is red as I remove my hand from my mouth, but I’m still struggling not to laugh.
“That was mean,” I accuse her.
“It’s the savage truth,” she shrugs. “I have no regrets, Alesso.”
I love the way my name rolls off her tongue.
“Your turn,” Oliver says. “What is her name?”
“Leila,” she rasps. “I don’t know why, it feels like that could be her name.”
“Spell it,” I insist, needing to ‘see’ and hear the name.
“L-e-i-l-a,” she says.
“Yes,” I nod. “This I like.”
“Yeah,” Oliver agrees. “It works for her.”
Pulling out my phone, I blow out a breath and call Grant. He said that he would be more available than Lucas today. Isolde looks exhausted.
“Do you want me to take her, and then you can lay with us both?” Oliver asks. “You need to sleep before you head back, Kitten.”
“Mmm. That sounds nice,” she rasps.
Isolde can’t be this tired and stay alone with thebambina. This works best.
Oliver carefully picks up Leila so she’s curled in the crook of his arm, and it’s hard to deny how tiny she is like this. I can’t imagine that she’s more than two months old.
Oliver eases back until he’s against the arm of the couch, and Isolde is crawling toward him to lay down when Grant finally answers.
