Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 45531 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 228(@200wpm)___ 182(@250wpm)___ 152(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 45531 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 228(@200wpm)___ 182(@250wpm)___ 152(@300wpm)
“We’re starting to feel like a proper family.”
He moves around so he’s holding me from behind. This is his favorite position lately, but not for anything sexual, though I do feel his desire, his hunger attempting to take control of his body. I’ll always feel that, whenever we touch, whenever we look at each other, but he likes this because it means he can cradle my belly with both hands. He can cradle our future with both hands. He holds me gently, then kisses me on the cheek.
“I can’t wait to be your husband.”
“I can’t wait to be your wife,” I say, leaning against him.
EPILOGUE
ONE YEAR LATER
Jacob
“If you ever have a problem, you come right to me and Mommy, okay?” I whisper as I gently rock Rosa in my arms.
It’s late. Madison lies sleeping after waking earlier to feed our daughter. Now I sit at the window of her bedroom, looking down on the garden, the nightlight sending stars moving all around us, glowing on the walls.
“We’ll always be there for you,” I go on, certain I’m going to cry.
I’ve never been much of a crier, but when Rosa was born, I shed a tear, a single one sliding hotly down my cheek. It was a testament to the love my child triggered in me, the unending waves.
“You know Mommy won’t let anybody hurt you.”
Leaning down, I tenderly kiss my daughter on the forehead, savoring her baby smell, a connection that roars at me to always protect her, protect her mother, and keep our family safe.
“Look at how much her website has grown, all that work she’s putting in, and that’s while she was pregnant with you. She’s the most impressive woman I’ve ever known.”
Rosa likes it when I speak to her. She’s not picky about topics. From journalism to football, it helps her sleep, but nothing seems to bring her as much peace as talking about her mother. That always sends relaxation through her tiny body.
Sometimes, I’m shocked by how small she feels in my arms. Terror grips me at the thought of something happening to her. Not that anything has or will, but that’s part of being a father. A piece of my mind and my soul will always be with Rosa now and any children Madison and I have. There will always be a fragment on alert, ready to destroy anybody who would hurt her or even think about it.
“I love you,” I whisper, kissing her again. “We love you so much. You’re the most perfect baby.”
“When she’s not crying the house down,” Madison whispers, her voice cracking.
I turn to find her in the doorway, the nightlight rotating and shining on her face, glistening with tears. She’s wearing one of my T-shirts, baggy down to her knees.
She walks across the room, her wild hair as attractive as the first time I laid eyes on her. Her body has become curvier since she gave birth to Rosa, igniting a need I have to focus to tame. Leaning down, Madison kisses me on the cheek, then gently lays her lips against Rosa.
“That was so nice, all that stuff you said,” she murmurs.
Holding Rosa carefully in one arm, I loop the other around my wife’s waist. She kneels to make the embrace easier, and we hold each other, Rosa protected between us, encased in our love.
“It was all true. Remember, my sweet wife, that’s the most important thing.”
EPILOGUE
TEN YEARS LATER
Madison
Jacob and I stand at the window, exchanging a look of love as we watch Rosa interviewing our other children.
Jacob’s become even more attractive as the years have passed, his hair becoming a deeper shade of silver, a light beard coating his powerful jaw. He’s stronger, too, his muscles thicker and firmer.
“I have to keep it that way,” he told me a couple of years ago, sexily sweaty from a workout. “I have to be ready to protect our family… always.”
After our love-filled look, we both gaze out the window again. Rosa has created a newspaper, an adorable stack of paper with broad headlines written across the top. She’s searching for more stories, and Kasey and Jaron are up to the challenge.
I can’t hear what they’re saying, but I know Rosa is being her typically charismatic, funny self. Jaron’s laughing, his eight-year-old face filled with joy and light, and Kasey is the same, her six-year-old eyes gleaming with happiness.
Farther up the yard, Cole sits with his building blocks laid out in front of him, looking seriously focused for a four-year-old. Our latest addition, Conner, is sleeping in his crib.
“I should probably get back out there,” I murmur.
I only returned to the house because Conner’s baby monitor told me he was crying. Now he’s resting deeply, as he always does. He’s easily the quietest and most peaceful of all our babies.
Jacob darted in to get a quick drink. Then we met in the kitchen and simply turned to watch them. It’s a joy sweeter than any drug, than any other experience, pure love and affection gripping us each time we lay eyes on our children.