by Robyn Grady
“I’ll never get tired of remembering that day.” Laura popped her daughter onto her lap and, humming a nursery rhyme, gave her a bounce. Laughing, Abbey raised her arms and squealed, begging for more. “I could play that DVD over and over.” Laura rubbed her nose with the baby’s. “What about you, sweet pea?”
“Abbey’s not old enough to talk.” Bishop slid the christening DVD into its labeled jacket. “If she’s anything like her mother, God help our phone bill when she is.”
“That’s what women do,” Laura pointed out. “They talk.” She spoke to the baby. “And boys flex their muscles and play with balls, both skills, of course, being vital to the happiness and survival of our species.”
“I know something else that’s vital to our survival.” DVD in hand, he made his way back over. “To mine anyway.”
Bishop joined them on the couch. Cupping his wife’s nape, he brought her lips to his. They kissed, tenderly and with a sincerity that softened Laura’s heart and refreshed her belief in all that was pure and good.
Slowly, he released her, but she wasn’t ready to let go just yet. Arching a brow, she filed her fingers suggestively through his dark hair. “Tell me more.”
“As soon as the baby’s down,” he murmured, in that deep, seductive voice that made her quiver, “I intend to do just that.”
But then he came close again. His mouth was about to capture hers once more when Laura pulled back and looked down. The baby had gripped the edge of the DVD jacket and was giving her first teeth a serious work out.
Gently, Laura pried the jacket away. “No, no, baby. We need to take good care of this.”
“That’s right, kitten.” Bishop stroked his daughter’s head. “We have to play it at your twenty-first.”
“Twenty-one.” Laura held Abbey’s little fingers and inspected the tiny dimpled hand. “It’ll be here before we know it. Then she’ll be moving out, getting married.” She studied her baby’s soft pink skin, those bright green eyes, and her heartstrings tugged. “I think I’m suffering empty nest syndrome already.”
“I know a way to delay it.”
“Spoil her rotten so she never wants to leave?”
A fingertip trailed her jaw as his lips whispered over hers. “Have another one.”
Laura’s breath caught. She never thought she’d hear him say the words. Agreeing to try again to have their first child had been a big enough step, and for them both. But she’d adored being pregnant this time and hadn’t suffered one hiccup, not even a single day of morning sickness. More importantly, their child was not only beautiful, she was also brimming with good health. There was no sign of a heart problem, thank heaven, and there was no reason to believe there would be in the future.
So did he really mean…?
“Have another baby?”
His smile warmed every inch of her. “Would you like that?”
Laura could barely speak over the emotion—the sheer happiness—clogging her throat. “I would like that very much. Infinitely much.”
His chuckle faded as an earnest gleam surfaced in his eyes. “Have I told you today how in love with you I am?”
Tipping forward, she nuzzled his bristled cheek. God, how she loved him, too. “Remind me again.”
His breath warmed her ear. Warmed her heart.
“You give me direction, give me meaning.”
Her eyes stung with another rush of emotion. She pinched the bridge of her nose, uncertain why she wanted to stem tears that came from a place of such perfect bliss. “You’re making me all foggy.”
“In a good way, I hope.”
“The very best way.”
So in tune, they looked down at their child at the same time. Just like that, Abbey had fallen asleep on her mother’s lap.
“You put down the baby,” he said and held up the disc. “I’ll put this away. Then I’ll light a fire.”
“And we’ll meet back here.”
If they were as lucky as she now believed them to be, history would repeat itself. This time next year they’d have another perfect little addition in their lives.
But as Bishop carried away that disc that held such sweet memories, and she carried their precious bundle to the nursery, Laura caught sight of those two portraits hanging above the fireplace and knew there was no need to guess at the future. They would always be a family who loved and supported each other, no matter what.
No matter what.
ISBN: 978-1-4268-7936-4
AMNESIAC EX, UNFORGETTABLE VOWS
Copyright © 2011 by Robyn Grady
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