by Claire Kent
“They both do.”
“No matter how much I fuck up.” Guilt flickered over his face again, swallowing the warm amusement.
“Stop it,” she snapped, immediately defending Seth from himself. “Everyone fucks up. It’s what you do right that makes the difference.” She pulled him into another hug. “And you’ve been a wonderful daddy to them.”
Seth returned her hug briefly and then rolled off her, propping himself up on his elbow and looking down at her. “I haven’t been called daddy for a long time.”
Erin immediately responded to his sudden nostalgia. Sometimes all she wanted was to be “mommy” again, to be able to cradle her babies in her arms. But she fought against the pull, reminding herself of how wonderful her life, her family, everything was right now.
When her self-lecture didn’t work as well as she’d hoped, she shook herself off and hauled herself off the bed. “I’m going to take a shower. I’m feeling rather…sticky.”
She made a face at Seth—to let him know she blamed him for the stickiness—and then headed into the bathroom.
She showered quickly, not bothering to wash her hair. Then she toweled off and changed into a soft tank and pajama pants set. It was getting late, and she was tired and looking forward to going to bed.
She’d said goodnight to the girls already and knew they were both in their bedrooms. She liked the feeling—of knowing her whole family was safe and snug at home for the night. She could never quite relax when they weren’t.
When she reentered their bedroom, Seth had changed clothes too, now wearing only a pair of low-slung gray pajama pants that made her want to sneak over, grab him by the waist, and squeeze hard.
His back was toward her, and he was looking at something on the writing desk in the corner. He didn’t even hear her come out of the bathroom.
Curious, Erin tiptoed over to him to sneak a peek at what he was doing.
Before she reached him, Seth must have heard her approach. He hid what he’d been looking at in a leather portfolio.
“What’s that?” she asked brightly.
“Nothing.” He smiled at her and tried to nudge her away from the desk. “You look like you’re ready for bed.”
“Mm-hmm,” she murmured, reaching toward the portfolio.
He moved it out of her reach.
“Show me,” she demanded, scowling at him.
“Mind your own business.”
They had a brief scuffle. Seth was stronger than her, but Erin refused to give up. Eventually, Seth groaned in reluctant resignation, and she was able to snatch the portfolio away from him.
She pulled out a worn, wrinkled photograph—one that she immediately recognized.
It was a picture of her and Mackenzie, taken seventeen years ago. Erin was sitting in a rocking chair in the nursery of her old apartment—the “brown” nursery Seth hadn’t been enthusiastic about—and holding up baby Mackenzie in her arms. Both of them were smiling.
Erin felt her heart swell with emotion as she realized what Seth had been doing in her absence.
Staring at that old photograph. The beginnings of his family.
Seth watched her warily. “You’re not going to make a big deal about it, are you?”
She intentionally kept her expression light. “Why would I make a big deal about it? Except to mock you for being so sentimental.”
Seth narrowed his eyes, his eyes searching her face with obvious suspicion.
Giving him a casual smile, she said, “Turn off the light before you come to bed.” She went over and crawled under the covers, feeling like something was shaking, shuddering, pulsing inside her.
He switched off the lamps and got into bed beside her, turning on his side to watch her in the dark. “Really? That’s all you have to say?”
“Of course.”
“For God’s sake, baby,” Seth murmured thickly, brushing her hair back from her face in a tender gesture. “You can say it.”
All the emotion she’d been trying to stifle spilled out in a half-sob, half-choke. “I just adore you!”
“That’s what I thought,” he said with an ironic chuckle. “But just so you know, I don’t really look at that old picture before bed every night. I was just thinking about it—earlier.”
Of course he had been thinking about it. They seemed to have fallen into the same nostalgic mood.
Erin scooted over until she was draped over him and pressed her mouth against his. They kissed for a few minutes—softly and without any urgency.
Then Erin eased herself down at his side and relaxed, resting her head on his shoulder. She thought for a long time about her daughters, about her family, about the ways it was changing.
Finally, she burst out, “I want my babies back!”
Seth didn’t even seem surprised. His hand was gently stroking her back. “You’ll always have them.”
“They’re almost grown-up,” she mumbled, feeling a strange pang of guilt for wanting time to have stood still several years back.
“I know.” Seth let out a rough sigh. “I don’t want them to grow up either.”
He’d bluntly stated what she’d been too ashamed to admit.
She stifled another sob with a laugh. “Listen to us. We’re so proud of them. And so afraid they’ll grow up to be everything we’ve tried to make them.”
He didn’t reply, but his hand tightened around her side.
“I suppose every parent feels something similar.” Erin could remember so vividly when Mackenzie had been tiny and stubborn, with a back as straight as her father’s. And Anna with chubby cheeks and messy blonde hair and a purple nightgown that always got hiked up at the back. They’d all piled in bed together—the most secure feeling she’d ever known. Like having them all snug in the house at night, but even better than that.
Never since had Erin felt so perfectly happy.
“I want my babies back,” she whispered as her eyes started to burn.
His voice changed—grew soft, almost diffident. “You'll always have me.”
Erin leaned up to him again and kissed him, comforted by his solid, unshakable presence.
Seth responded to her kiss with more urgency than she expected. And when she pulled back he gave her a smile in the dark. “We could always make another baby.”
She snorted. “Now there’s an idea.”
“We could. If you're feeling seriously baby-deprived.”
Erin was strangely touched—that he’d offered this, that he was serious about the suggestion, that he would consider anything to make her happy. “Tempting, but no. I’m just sappy tonight. And honestly I don’t think I’m up to having babies anymore. I’m pretty happy with my life as it is now.”
Seth chuckled. “Me too. But I’m flexible.”
Erin got a good giggle out of that and decided she was feeling a lot better now that her little burst of emotion was over. “I think our family is pretty great as it is,” she concluded. “Even if we’re going to have to get used to boys lusting after our little girls.”
She said that last thing mostly to tease him, and she wasn’t disappointed. Seth’s body clenched up and he growled a little.
“If any little bastard has any such thoughts about my daughters,” he gritted out, “I’ll tear his skin off. In strips.”
Erin burst out in delighted laughter. “I never doubted it.” Then she sobered as she added, “But really I think Anna and Mackenzie are far better prepared to make good decisions than either of us ever were. They know they’re loved and they know they’re not alone. I think we’ve done a good job with them.”
“I hope so.”
“I was thinking earlier in the shower. I know it sounds kind of stupid, but the girls are like our love has been made flesh. Our love brought to life.”
He didn’t answer immediately.
“I told you it sounded kind of stupid.”
“I don’t think it’s stupid.”
She kissed his shoulder again. “Maybe there’s somet
hing to it. And that’s thanks to you as much as it is to me. You were wrong all those years ago. You were—and are—an incredible father.”
Seth held her eyes for a long time in the dark, his gaze deep and tender. “I never would have been anything without you.”
She kissed him again. Then they lay together, as close as they could get, until they started to drift into sleep.
Wrapped up in his body, she felt understood, loved, known completely, and she knew Seth felt the same way.
There wasn’t anything left to be said.
About the Author
Claire has been writing romance novels since she was twelve years old. She has a PhD in British literature and, when she's not writing, she teaches English at the university level.
She also writes romance novels under the penname Noelle Adams (noelle-adams.com). If you would like to contact Claire, please check out her website (clairekent.com) or email her at [email protected].
Other Books by Claire Kent
Escorted
Breaking
Nameless
Christening