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Colonel Slater can be gruff and pretend he has no feelings, but it’s no secret he loves the Fourth of July, when he’s treated with even more respect than usual because he spearheaded the rescue efforts.
My reverie is interrupted by the strident clip-clop of hooves crossing the threshold into our little house. Sylas’s cheeks bunch in an indulgent smile when he catches me rubbing the swell beneath my loose tunic.
“How are my two loves?” His smile crinkles the skin at the edges of his warm umber eyes as he moves my laptop off the bed and stretches out beside me.
“Didn’t they teach you how to count when you were in Area 51? Me, little fawn, and Tot-terrific. That makes three.”
“Sorry, Tot.” He doesn’t need to raise his voice to call the dog because Tot’s been with him all day and is stuck like glue to my favorite guy. If he didn’t have a name already, I’d name him Velcro.
“Ready to celebrate?” I beam at him, covering his large hand with my own over our child. “I think little fawn is excited about the fireworks, too. He or she has been doing somersaults all afternoon.”
From the beginning, we told the docs we didn’t want to know the sex. We’re excited to have a surprise.
Concern flashes across Sylas’s face. “Somersaults? You’re not in pain, are you?” His handsome face is tight with concern as he grazes his palm, whisper-soft, across my belly.
“Just letting me know how eager it is for the fun. Like its father!” I chuckle.
Sylas grins, then scoots down to nuzzle his cheek against my belly. “You hear that, little one? We need to take it easy on Mama. She’s doing very important work to keep you safe in there.”
When he places a tender kiss just below my popped-out navel, my heart clenches with emotion. My guy is going to be the best father ever. Our baby is so lucky! Warmth gushes through me as I think of all the joy I have in my life.
When Tater Tot and I are alone, I often whisper my thanks that the goodest boy in the world decided to be a brat all those months ago when he climbed under the fence to invade America’s most Top-Secret facility.
“We should get a move on. It’s almost dark.” Sylas kneels beside me, unceremoniously sweeping me into his arms before I can object. “We’re not missing the show! Noble is saving us a spot.”
I loop my arms around his strong neck, nestling against his chest as Sylas lopes out the door into the balmy summer night. His enhanced night vision and sure footing carry us swiftly through the woods until we reach a moonlit clearing on a ridge overlooking the lake.
Most of our friends are already sprawled across blankets or sitting in lawn chairs, greeting us with delighted shouts when Sylas eases me atop a plush quilt near the makeshift stage where Colonel Slater waits to give an inspirational speech about freedom and new beginnings.
Sylas settles behind me, tucking my back against his broad chest, our joined hands resting protectively over our unborn baby. Joy bubbles up inside me as the show begins, colorful sparks raining down around us like glittering confetti.
Here, surrounded by love and magic with my little family and dozens of friends, I’m certain that no matter what surprises the future brings when the splicers share their extraordinary existence with the world, our happily ever after is assured. Sylas presses smiling lips to mine, a promise of forever in his kiss, as we celebrate under the beautiful starry sky.
