Cook Brothers: The Whole Flipping Family

by BJ Harvey

  “I’d laugh, but I’m scared you’ll knee me in the balls next,” he muses, dabbing my forehead with a wet facecloth.

  “Not yet. I still like your balls. Although maybe I won’t if your son tears my vagina in two.”

  He snickers. “You’re amazing. Do you know that?”

  “Of course I am. You’re lucky to have me,” I murmur, closing my eyes just for a moment. Who knew this labor business was gonna be so tiring?

  Skye and Cohen rush into the room, Cohen giving Ezra a chin lift before shooting me a soft smile. “I hear someone is in a hurry to arrive tonight?”

  “Apparently,” I sigh.

  “You okay with it being us?” Skye asks, dropping her ambulance bag on the ground beside the bed and opening it up. “We were the closest unit, and when we heard the address, we didn’t even question taking the job.”

  “I’m glad you’re here.”

  “Okay. Well, we already decided that I’d be the one to examine you and help with the birth if you are that close,” Skye explains.

  “Mainly because I don’t want Ezra to beat me up because I’ve seen your vagina,” Cohen says with a shrug.

  “Good call,” Ezra rumbles behind me.

  I nail him with an elbow again for good measure. Anything a pregnant woman does while in labor doesn’t count later, right? “Don’t be an ass. Once you’ve seen one vagina, you’ve seen them all, right?” I ask Skye.

  Her amused eyes switch from me to Ezra, to Cohen. “She’s not wrong. It’s like cocks. They’re all the same.”

  “As someone with a cock, I beg to differ,” Co says with a chuckle.

  “As someone about to give birth to a baby with a penis, I think you should really just accept anything I say as gospel and be done with it,” I tell Cohen haughtily.

  “Yeah, Co. Listen to the pregnant lady in labor. It’s safer,” Skye says, shooting me a wink.

  Then it’s contraction time again.

  “Ez, get ready,” Skye says.

  Ezra slides in behind me, Skye positioning herself on the bed between my legs and Cohen moving to the other side of me. Having taped an IV lure in place on the back of my hand, he holds a bag of fluids up in the air, standing beside the bed. I look to Ezra beside me and lacing our hands together on my knees. He’s got my back—literally—and I’m ready for whatever is about to happen. I want to meet our baby. I want to watch Ezra’s face the moment he holds his son for the first time.

  “You want some gas for this next one?” Skye asks, holding up a green whistle contraption in her hand. I remember having that when I broke my arm badly ten years ago, and my body hated it.

  I shake my head. “I’ve gotten this far without the drugs I thought I’d have—let’s just go all the way—” My body decides I’ve had enough of a break, and another contraction begins to build. “Ow, ow, ow, ow,” I say between pants as the tight feeling grows and grows.

  “You’re doing so well, Gilly,” Skye says. “Keep going. Breathe through it. You’re getting closer now.”

  When I sag back against Ezra, dropping my head against his shoulder and burying my face in his neck, I feel Skye’s gloved hand ease inside me like a snug hand puppet. “I’m just examining you.”

  “Please let me be ready,” I plead to no one in particular.

  “You’re ten centimeters, and 100 percent effaced now.” She locks eyes with mine. “The next contraction, we’re ready to push.”

  “Ronnie’s going to be so pissed off she missed this,” I murmur, exhaustion creeping in.

  “Missed what?” my sister asks, looking frazzled as she rushes into the room. “Hey, Co, hey Skye, hey baby daddy.” Her soft gaze turns to me as she moves around Cohen and kneels on the bed beside me, taking one of my hands from Ezra. “Hey, Gilly-Bear.”

  “How…?”

  “First branch of the birth tree, baby. I got my ass in the car as soon as I unlatched my boob from my daughter’s greedy mouth.”

  “Oh my God. You did not!” I say with a gasp. “Poor Joey.”

  “She’s having another growth spurt. She’s been attached to my nipple all day it seems. She can live off her chunky cheeks for long enough for me to see my nephew come into the world.”

  Co and Skye snicker, and I just shake my head, closing my eyes at the feel of Ezra’s lips kissing my temple.

  “Is it almost time to meet my nephew then?” Ronnie asks.

  “God yes,” I breathe. “Just give me some water first, otherwise I’m gonna lose my voice.”

  “Anything you want, baby mama. You’re doing so well,” Ezra says, bringing the bottle of water to my mouth again for a drink.

  Skye looks up at me and nods with a determined look in her eye. “Then let’s get ready to push so you can meet your son.”

  “So… much… to… tell… you,” I pant to Ronnie.

  She laughs and shakes her head. “Gilly-Bear, whatever it is, it can wait till after you’ve given birth, yeah?”

  “Oh… kay… ’cause I really need to push now.”

  Skye flexes her hand on my stomach as if to say the same thing, but the contraction barreling into me is waiting for no one. It’s like a tidal wave with a mind of its own, and it’s moving in one direction.

  “Good, because I really need to push,” I grind out, squeezing Ronnie and Ezra’s hands so tight I swear I might break them.

  “Fuck, she’s got a good grip,” my sister whines.

  “That’s what he said,” Cohen stupidly mutters, and I’d laugh if I weren’t in so much pain.

  “Not the time, Cass,” Skye growls before she locks eyes with me. “This time, Gilly.”

  I lean forward and grab hold of my knees, pushing back against Ezra and focusing all my attention on pushing this giant baby out of me. “Okay, Gilly. Get ready. And pusssshhhh,” she says, counting down from ten, her eyes focused on whatever is happening between my legs—which better damn well be a baby. “Okay, take a breath. Rest for a minute and let Ezra take your weight because this next one is all we need to get this little boy out into the world. We just need his head out, and then we can help him, alright? Ready?”

  I nod, quickly locking eyes with Ez, knowing this is the last moment it’ll just be the two of us in this family. Soon, we’ll be three. “You ready?”

  “Yeah. Let’s meet our boy,” I breathe. My stomach muscles clench tighter than ever before, and I’m pushing and panting, groaning and growling as Skye counts down from ten. There’s a huge release of pressure as she hits one. “Okay, stop pushing,” she rushes out, then there’s one last stinging pull before a loud, high-pitched—and unhappy—cry fills the air. Tears stream down my face as Skye grins up at me, and Cohen and Ronnie cheer, jostling the bed beneath me.

  I only have eyes for Ezra though as he leans around and kisses me hard on the lips, no tongue, all feeling, and emotion, his cheeks as wet as mine, which sets me off crying all over again.

  Then together, with me pressing my cheek against his, we look down and watch Skye stand up and place our goo-covered baby on my blanket-covered chest. “Say hello to your son.”

  I burst into tears, loud, relieved, exhausted, and overwhelmed sobs, encased in the arms of the man I love, with our son cradled in front of me. Ezra’s hand reaches out to stroke the cheek of the baby we made together, the two of us staring at our son in wonder as I nurse him for the first time.

  “We made that,” Ezra whispers.

  “He’s perfect,” I murmur back.

  Ezra nuzzles my cheek. “You both are.”

  We sit like that for a while until Skye tells us she needs to check me out and see whether the placenta is coming. “Ez, come here and cut the cord,” she adds, holding out a pair of medical scissors. Ezra eases out from behind me and does as instructed.

  Once I deliver the placenta, I’m dazed and wrung out, but that still doesn’t stop me ogling a now shirtless Ez as he cradles our newborn son against his bare chest, Ronnie and Cohen watching from across the room, giving us space.
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br />   “Stop looking at me like that, baby mama. We’re not making another one just yet,” Ez says with a smirk.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I say with a half-grin, albeit a tired one.

  “Yeah, she was totally checking you out,” Ronnie says.

  “Thanks, Aunty Ronnie. You don’t get first cuddles anymore.”

  Ezra walks over to Skye—who has thankfully finished checking out my lady bits—and places our son in her arms. “Besides, Aunty Skye helped deliver him; it’s only fair she gets the first hold.”

  Skye looks over at Cohen and Ronnie and shrugs. “Perks of the job.”

  “So not fair,” Ronnie grumbles, but it’s all for show.

  “By the way, Ron, Dad will be calling you soon to apologize for being an asshole. Oh, and he’s leaving Mom.”

  “Whaaaaat?”

  “Yep. Wouldn’t have believed it unless I’d seen it for myself,” Ezra says, lying down in the bed and gently pulling me into his side.

  “Oh, and my waters broke all over his shoes, so there is that too, I suppose,” I murmur, smiling as laughter fills the air.

  “You’re telling me he wicked bitch of the mid-west is out on her ass?” Ronnie asks.

  “Seems that way.”

  “And he actually said sorry?”

  “Pretty much.”

  “Well,” she says, walking across the room and stealing the baby away from Skye. “I guess today is a very good day then, isn’t it?”

  I tilt my head and meet Ezra’s piercing gaze. “Best day of my life,” I whisper for his ears only. He doesn’t say a word. Instead, he shows me he agrees with a slow, languid kiss that means the world to me.

  After a super-quick labor and impromptu home birth, that’s all I have left in me to do.

  Eight hours later, we’ve gone to the hospital, both myself and the baby have been checked over—no stitches for me, yay—and Cohen and Skye have brought us home again, calling off their shift early and helping us get settled in our bedroom before leaving us to it.

  I didn’t see the point in taking up a hospital bed when we’ve got so many moms—new and old—who are chomping at the bit to come help us, as well as enough medical personnel in the family to start our own clinic.

  Besides, all I really wanted to do was be in my own space and my own bed, using my own bathroom, and with my two favorite boys.

  “We really should put him in his crib,” I murmur, looking down at our son greedily feeding at my breast. He’s got a mouth like a hoover because my nipples have never been as sore as they are today, and I’m not even nine hours into this parenting gig.

  “Leave him be,” Ez says, curled around us on the bed. “I like having him close.”

  I turn my head to look at him. “Me too.”

  “I like having you close as well,” he says sweetly.

  “Sorry, baby daddy. This shop is closed for business for a good six weeks,” I say wryly, earning a chuckle.

  “Hmm. I guess I’ll just have to be happy with seeing you wear this then.” He reaches out and gently places an open black velvet ring box on top of our swaddled baby.

  I gasp—quietly, because no one wants to be loud around a new baby—my eyes darting between the gorgeous contents in the box and my warm-eyed fiancé who I can’t ever imagine living without.

  “I promised you a big-ass ring.”

  “That’s definitely that.”

  “I wanted something that was perfect for you, but that also was flashy enough to send a message that you’re well and truly spoken for.”

  “That ring leaves little doubt about it,” I mutter. “I love it.”

  “Good,” he says, and he looks proud as punch. It’s then that I snort, biting my lip to try and hold in my own laughter.

  Ezra’s brow furrows, so I decide to put him out of his misery. “Can you open the top drawer of the nightstand for me?”

  He leans over and does as I’ve asked, pulling out a ring box of my own. Leaning over me, his brows adorably bunched together, he looks back into my eyes.

  “Open it,” I whisper.

  With one finger, he flips it open to uncover a wide platinum band. He runs the pad of his thumb over the precious metal. “What’s this?”

  “A come present.”

  Ezra’s head jerks back. “A what?” he asks with a disbelieving laugh.

  I reach out and pull the ring from the box, running my hand down his left arm and sliding it on his ring finger. I hold it in place as I meet his eyes. “You gave me a push present. I’m giving you a come present,” I say with a soft smile. “You came into my life for a reason, you came and helped create our son, and you came back to me and wanted to give this—us—a chance, and I’ve never wanted anything more than the life we’ve made and the life we’re making together.”

  “Fuck, I love you,” he rasps, his voice thick with emotion, his eyes wet with unshed tears.

  “And I love you.” He lifts his hand to cradle the side of my face and brushes his lips against mine. Pulling apart, we both look down at our son who’s gently suckling at my breast. “He’s the best thing I’ve ever done,” Ez says, running a finger softly down our baby’s cheek.

  It’s then that Hudson James Baker lets out a loud, echoing fart, the sound surprising enough to probably give his father a PTSD flashback.

  Ezra’s eyes go wide, and I burst out laughing.

  And for that night, and the next, and for many years after that, love and laughter fill our lives as the three of us—well, until Olivia Faith Baker is born eighteen months later—all live happily ever after.

  Epilogue - Skye

  TWO YEARS LATER

  If you were to tell when I first met Cohen Cook that I’d be marrying the man, I would’ve asked if you were feeling okay and when your last psychiatric evaluation was.

  It’s not that I didn’t like the guy—I thought he was the hottest thing I’d ever seen in a Chicago Fire Department uniform. It was that he never struck me as a man who’d settle down and live the ‘one vagina’ life.

  Boy, did I guess that one wrong!

  It’s Cohen Cook or bust, and since he pulled his head out of his ass two years ago and admitted to my brothers that he was in love with me as much as I was with him, and risked injury and/or death by their hands to prove that to me, it’s been nothing short of perfect between the two of us.

  Now, with Papa Rossi leading me down our short—and impromptu—makeshift aisle in the living room of our newly flipped three-bedroom duplex, Jamie standing at the end of the aisle having gotten ordained online at our request, I’m ready to start the ‘married’ part of our lives together, along with everything that entails.

  “You ready for this, baby girl?” my father asks as we stop in front of my soon-to-be husband.

  My eyes are locked on Cohen’s when I reply, “I’ve never been more ready in my entire life.”

  “I love you always,” my father says, and I turn to look at him.

  “Same, Papa.”

  “And if he hurts you, I’ll cut his balls off myself,” he says, making me burst out laughing because my father loves screwing with Cohen, and I know he just heard every word Papa just said.

  “Okay,” I say with a giggle.

  “You tell him that.”

  “I think he heard you loud and clear, Papa. But he will never hurt me.”

  He smiles and leans in, kissing one cheek before switching to the other. “I know. Doesn’t mean I can’t have fun scaring him a little.”

  “Give me to my groom, Papa.”

  “Always knew my baby girl would be the leader of the pack,” he murmurs proudly before taking my hand and literally giving me to Cohen.

  “My Skye!” six-year-old Penny cries out excitedly from where she’s standing in the front row of the crowd. She’s wearing a beautiful blue poufy dress she chose when I took her on a girls’ shopping day last week. She’s holding on tight to the hand of a dashing—yet somewhat uncomfortable—eleven-year-old
Axel.

  Queen P has had a rather obvious crush on the older-than-her Axel since they first met when Penny was four and a half to Axel’s nine. She has never hidden this fact from anyone, especially the object of her affection. All us adults think it’s adorable and cute; Axel finds it annoying, especially since his younger brother, Finn—who April and Jamie adopted fourteen months ago—seems to have a crush on Penelope, which makes things a little tricky. At least Finn is two years younger than Axel. Nevertheless, this puppy-love triangle has heartache written all over it, and Penny’s fathers and I all know that it will be our girl who cries all the tears.

  As well as Queen P, Dion and Vinnie are now parents to a mini-diva version number-two named Brittany. She is the spitting image of Penelope with my looks and Dion’s charming personality. Really, she has my sass, Dion’s flamboyance, and Vinnie’s no-nonsense attitude. She’s almost as formidable—if not slightly more scary—than her older sister. Watch out—those two girls will literally run the world

  “Are you sure you wanna marry this man?” Jamie asks, quirking a brow as he switches his gaze between Cohen and me.

  “Hey!” Co says, narrowing his eyes on his oldest brother. “You’re not supposed to try and talk her out of it.”

  “Well, if we’re offering up objections,” Ezra says, raising his hand, “I’m sure I can think of a couple.”

  His arm is wrapped around the shoulders of Gilly, the two of them now married after running off to Iceland to get married by themselves six months ago. Gilly was five months pregnant, and they took little Hudson with them for their first family holiday and decided to say ‘fuck it’ and get married while they were there. There was hell to pay from all sides of the family after that, but they made it up to us by letting us throw them a kickass wedding party at Jamie and April’s house shortly after they got home.

  Bry stands next. “I can object. I can’t think of any one particular reason, but it seems like the right thing to do. Cohen is like a baby Spider-Man; he still has so much to learn.”