Page 123 of Rebel Heart
Keeping my eyes focused on Jack as he cuddled with his new puppy, no less than a dozen thoughts ran through my mind.
Another baby.
I couldn’t wait. I’d been wanting to build a family like the one I grew up in from the moment I knew Rhea was the one.
I kissed the top of Rhea’s head. “It’s going to be okay, babe. This is what we’ve always wanted.”
She pulled back to look at me. “I know. I said I wanted lots of babies, but what if there’s not enough?”
“Enough what?”
Her worried eyes frantically searched my face. “Love. What if another baby comes along and Jack feels unloved or like he doesn’t matter anymore?”
Lifting my hand to the side of her face, I brushed away a lock of her hair and tucked it behind her ear. “He’s never going to feel that.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I was him.”
Rhea jerked back, confused. “What?”
“I’m the oldest of six,” I reminded her. “I never felt like my parents loved me any less because Cooper came along next. And it didn’t change when Tate, Ivy, Liam, or Jules were added to the mix. It was just us. Our family. It’ll be the same for Jack, because we’ll make it so.”
Her body relaxed in an instant. “You think so?”
I nodded. “I know it.”
She deliberated for a beat. “Okay.”
“Okay. So, the dog isn’t a problem?”
Looking back at our son, watching as he stroked his little hand over the back of the pup, Rhea shook her head. “No, Wyatt. We can keep him.”
I kissed her temple and tugged her forward. “Come on. You should meet him, too.”
So, that’s what we did.
And the following winter, we welcomed another boy. With me, Jack, Owen, and our dog, Charlie, Rhea was slowly becoming outnumbered. But she wanted lots of babies, so I suspected we’d eventually add at least one little girl to the mix.
COOPER - ONE YEAR, TWO MONTHS LATER
“Can we do just one more book, Daddy?”
Looking into those big blue eyes, I almost caved. “We’ve already done three, Rosie. And that’s two more than this was supposed to be.”
“But nobody reads bedtime stories like you.” My daughter knew precisely what to say to get me to bow to her whims.
I could admit it. Just a few weeks shy of her fifth birthday, Roselle Westwood had me wrapped around her little finger. It had been that way from about the moment she came into the world. And once she started talking, I didn’t stand a chance.
A gentle cough from across the room had both of us looking up.
My wife had her back resting against the door frame, a big, bright smile on her face. Skye and Rosie were two peas in a pod, especially when it came to their love of reading.
Returning my attention to my daughter, I said, “I know how much you like when I read to you. It’s one of my favorite things in the whole world to do. But do you know who else likes bedtime stories?”
“Mommy.” There was such an edge of disappointment in her tone.
I chuckled. “That’s right. Mommy loves them. And she hasn’t gotten even one story tonight. Do you think you’d be okay with the three I already read to you, so I can make sure she gets one, too?”
