“How are you doing? Is everything okay?” I look to the nurse who’s standing at the end of the bed, but she just smiles at me.
“Well, things are going good—” she breaks off, and her face crumples. She takes my hand and draws in a deep breath through her nose.
The contraction lasts a hell of a long time, but I focus on brushing her hair back from her face and stroking her arm until it passes. When it does, she blinks up at me. “Hey,” she says.
I kiss her brow. “Hey.”
“So I have some news.”
“News.”
“Yeah. Well remember how you didn’t want to know the baby’s sex?”
Frowning, I straighten. “Yes?” The word is drawn out. “Where are you going with this?”
“Well, since you wouldn’t let me tell you, I couldn’t tell you—”
I put my hand over her mouth. “Don’t you dare. I don’t care what we’re having so long as he or she is healthy.”
“But—”
I don’t have time to cut her off because another contraction hits, and she grits her teeth.
“Shh, it’ll be okay,” I say. Then I find myself echoing Ben’s advice. “Breathe, just breathe.”
When it passes, she’s panting. “They’re coming closer together,” she says.
“Almost there,” the nurse says, standing and slipping her glove off. “You’re right at ten centimeters.” The nurse turns to write something on a clipboard.
“I’m trying to tell you—”
“No,” I say and kiss her. “It doesn’t matter. I have everything I’ve ever wanted right here in this room. I want it to be a surprise.”
“Oh, it’s definitely going to be a surprise,” the nurse murmurs, giving us a small smile as she slips from the room.
“You’re so frustrating,” Sienna says.
“But you love me.”
She leans up to kiss me. “I do.”
“So let’s have a baby,” I say.
An eternity later, pandemonium erupts inside the little hospital room as Sienna does the impossible and brings our child into this world. I used to be convinced nothing would ever be more beautiful than she was when when she walked down the aisle the day we were married, but I was wrong. The most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen is the moment they place the squirmy, squalling, red-faced baby onto her stomach with her looking down, tears streaming down her face.
I put my hand on the baby’s back and lean down to kiss Sienna’s forehead. She’s a wreck, her hair is sticking in a million different directions, and she’s sweated off all the makeup she’d applied before she went into labor. She’s absolutely stunning. My angel.
There’s a flurry of activity, and then the baby is whisked away to be wiped down, measured, weighed, and then wrapped up. I describe all of the actions in Sienna’s ear as I watch from my place by her side. Finally, they call me over, and I take a sleepy bundle in my arms.
“It’s a boy,” one of the nurses tells me.
I look down at the new life in my arms in awe. “A boy,” I whisper, and then I look at Sienna. “We have a son.” Her face is brilliant with a huge smile, but then pain flashes in her eyes. “Baby?”
“Here we go,” the nurse says as she rushes by me.
“Baby? Are you okay?” With the sleeping boy cradled in my arms, I crouch by her side.
“Yes,” she says through panted breaths. “His brother is just impatient.”
I stare at her, unable to comprehend simple English. Finally, my brain catches up with her words. “Brother?”
“I tried”—pause—“to tell you”—pause—“but you didn’t”—pause—“want to know.”
“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”
“If you think I’m saying you’re about to be a father again, then you’re right.”
I’m struck dumb and only manage to hold onto her hands as she works a miracle for the second time in one night.
While they repeat the same procedure for the second baby, I turn to Sienna. “Twins?”
She laughs softly and holds out her hands. “I tried to tell you a million times, but you wouldn’t let me.”
I can’t find words.
“Here you are, Daddy,” a nurse says and then places another baby in my arms. “Ten fingers and ten toes,” she announces happily.
The baby in my arms is identical to his brother. It hits me like a shockwave and I look up to my wife, who’s smiling softly at the baby in her arms. “Twins,” I say.
“Twins.”
“Two boys.”
She laughs. “That’s right.”
“I should have known.”
“Well, I was the size of a small country.”
With our boys asleep in our arms, I lean over and kiss her. “You were beautiful.”
She smiles and gazes at me with tired eyes. “Thank you,” she says.
I trace the curve of my son’s cheek. “For what?”
“For everything.”
This causes me to look up and frown. “What do you mean?”
She cups my cheek with her free hand. “If you weren’t so damn persistent, I’d never have this. I’d never have you. So thank you. When I lost my sister, it was as if I lost a part of myself. Finding you, it’s almost like I’ve gotten it back. You made me whole again, Logan. So thank you.”
I kiss the baby’s forehead. “I’m pretty sure you’ve just given me the only thank you I’ll ever need.”
“I’ve been thinking about names.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Preston and Lennox.”
She doesn’t have to explain. P for her sister and Lennox for the friend she lost. “They’re perfect.”
Later that night, after the doctors have cleaned up the room and the babies have fed and are sleeping in their respective bassinets, I climb into the bed with her and hold her close to me.
“What a day,” she says and yawns.
“Why don’t you get some rest?” I suggest. “You have to be exhausted, and they’ll be up soon.”
“Just a little nap,” she says and snuggles against my chest. “Stay right here?”
I wrap an arm around her waist and rest my chin on her hair. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Acknowledgments
Writing is no solitary endeavor. I’ve enlisted the help of several people over the years and there’s one who deserves a second (and eternal) thanks for his tireless help and friendship. Pierre Rhodes, without your friendship and tireless patience, I’d be lost. You’re always there with an open ear for my questions and never fail to respond with irreplaceable knowledge. You are in these pages, my friend, but it will never be thanks enough for all of your help.
Melissa Fisher, you are honestly indispensable. One of my first, and most enthusiastic cheerleaders, you’ve become a person I turn to when I’m excited about news I can’t share with anyone else and you never fail to serve up devotion as keen as mine for these projects so close to my heart. Whenever I need you for an eye or an ear, you’re there. Please know I am eternally grateful for your guidance and friendship.
To all of my readers, and most especially to my reader group, the Knockouts, there are never words suitable enough for the depth of my gratitude. It’s almost as if you know when I need your encouragement the most because you’re always there with a kind word or a morale boost just when I need it. Thank you for going on this journey with me. I couldn’t do it without you!
Authors would be screaming into the black abyss if it wasn’t for the hard-working bloggers who promote our work just as passionately as if it were their own. A special thanks to: The Wonderings of One Person, SJ’s Book Blog, EscapeNBooks, Books Over Boys, Crystal’s Crazy Book Ramblings, Kiki Reader Loves Books, A Cup and a Book, Black Feather Blogger, I HAVE A BOOK OBSESSION, Exposure Book Blog, and so many more. If I missed you, please don’t hesitate to email. I can always update and I want to include everyone! :P
About the Author
New York Times and
USA Today Bestselling author Nicole Blanchard lives in Mississippi with her family and their menagerie of animals. She chooses each day to chase her own fairy tale even if they contain their fair share of dragons. She is married to her best friend and owns her own business.
Nicole survives on a diet of too many books and substantial amounts of root beer and slim jims. When not reading, she’s lavishing attention on her family or inhaling every episode of The Walking Dead and The Big Bang Theory.
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Also by Nicole Blanchard
First to Fight Series
Anchor
Warrior
Survivor
Savior
Standalones
Bear with Me
Darkest Desires
Mechanical Hearts
Savior (First to Fight Book 4) Page 19