Page 59 of Love Everlasting

“Oh, baby.” Jack clutched her tightly, the sheen of moisture in his eyes identical to Lacey’s. “Miss Myra promised us you’d be placed with a foster family in Savannah, which means Lace and I will come see you as much as you like.”

“You p-promise?” she said with a hiccup, swiping at the tears in her eyes.

“You bet, sweetheart—pinky swear.” Lacey held her little finger out to the little girl.

Heaves slowly dissipating, Debbie curved her tiny finger around Lacey’s and then with a quiver of her lip, she launched into Lacey’s arms, clutching her tightly. “I l-love you, L-Lacey,” she whispered before she turned to lunge back to Jack. “You, too, Jack, more than anybody in the whole, wide world.”

Jack and Lacey’s watery gazes locked, and Shannon was pretty sure she was going to cry too.

“Hey, I’m hungry—who wants BBQ?” Chase jumped up from the table.

“Me-me-me!” Davey shouted, echoed by Spence’s more modest assent.

“You hungry, Deb?” Chase asked. “Because yours is the first plate I’m gonna get if you are.”

Debbie nodded against Jack’s chest, an impish grin lighting on her lips. “Can I have two hot dogs? And lots of dessert?”

Chase gave her a wink. “Whatever your little heart desires, munchkin, as long as Miss Shannon helps me to carry it all.”

Cat hopped up with a roll of her eyes. “I better go, too, or you’re liable to end up with more veggies than dessert with these two.”

“For your information, Catfish,” Chase said with a shuttered drawl, “I have a near-decadent weakness for anything sweet.”

Faking a yawn, Cat broke from the ranks to sashay in front of Shannon and Chase, smile dry as she delivered a smirk over her shoulder. “Seriously, Rev?” She zeroed in on Shannon with a pointed gaze before baiting Chase with an arch of her brow. “Tell me something I don’t already know.”

Chapter Thirty-Two

Skimming his jaw with one last swipe of the razor, Jack rinsed the shaving cream and dried his face, mouth slanting at the notion that he was shaving at ten o’clock at night, something he’d never done before. At least not until the honeymoon when Lacey woke up the first morning with awful razor burn. His mouth tipped in a gentle smile.

God bless her. She’d been so mortified by the heavy rash that broke out on her face that she’d talked him into hiding out in their honeymoon bungalow all day and all night. His smile eased into a grin.

Not that she had much persuading to do.

He patted his clean-shaven face with her favorite cologne—Obsession—which fit perfectly because if ever a man was obsessed with a woman, it was him. Lacey Carmichael O’Bryen was the love of his life, and he would do anything for her. His lips inched up as he dragged a comb through his dark, unruly hair, still damp from his shower.

Including shaving every night since.

But he sure wasn’t complaining. Applying deodorant, he assessed the tan he’d managed to maintain from their Bahamas getaway, bicep bulging with the motion. Nope, because attached to his late-night shaving ritual was Lacey’s own personal obsession of getting pregnant, which meant Dr. Jack was on call every night of the week. He slathered toothpaste on his toothbrush with a decadent grin.

With his very sexy and very determined wife.

Swishing water in his mouth, he spit it out and wiped his face with the towel. “Ready or not, Mrs. O’Bryen, here I come,” he said under his breath, pretty sure Lacey was more than ready, a baby foremost on her mind. And frankly, he was too. Not that making love to his wife every night was a hardship by any means, but seeing her disappointed month after month certainly was, and he wanted his bubbly and lively Lacey back. He jerked his pajama bottoms up a fraction of an inch as he shot a smug smile into the mirror. And hopefully soon, God willing, he could share news with her that would do just that.

Turning off the bathroom light, Jack entered the darkened master bedroom Lacey’s dad insisted they keep after Ben returned from his mission trip. Making his way to the bed, he was surprised his very thorough wife didn’t have her lavender-scented candle lit. He grinned as he eased under the sheet. The one she’d read promoted both relaxation and romantic mood.

Wrapping his arms around her from behind, he nibbled her neck while he spooned her close. “No ambiance tonight?” He skimmed his palm down the length of her body, caught off-guard by the feel of pajama bottoms instead of skin. Ignoring a niggle of worry, he burrowed into the crook of her shoulder, gently feathering the lobe of her ear with his mouth. “No worries, babe, candlelight or pitch dark, you’re all I need to set the mood …”

“Jack?” Her voice sounded off.

“Yeah, Lace?”

“Would you mind terribly if we just cuddled tonight?” She reached to brace his arm to her waist, wrapping her own arms around his. “I don’t feel so great.”

“What’s wrong, babe?” he asked, brows crinkling as he slowly turned her to face him, stomach plunging at the moisture he felt when he gently kissed her cheek. “Lace—why are you crying—are you in pain?”

Eyes squeezed shut, she started to shake her head, but the moment her face crumpled with tears, he swallowed her up, holding her tightly as they lay side by side. “Aw, babe, we’ll have lots of babies, I promise, whether biological or adopted, you have my word.”

“I … know,” she whispered, “b-but that’s not the only reason I’m sad.”