Page 239 of I Never Stopped Loving You

He glances at Jeremy with those last words, and I can feel the tension. Things were kind of a clusterfuck last month with everything that happened. Jeremy is still recovering from the aftermath, and apparently she told Tom who Jeremy is. Thankfully, I hear someone else call my name. It provides the perfect excuse to get out of this awkward situation.

“Excuse us. Duty calls. Enjoy the party, you two, and congrats again on the engagement.”

“Thanks, Noah. Bye, Jeremy.”

Jeremy and I continue around the party mingling with our employees and their families. One of our employees, Amanda, has been off for three months for maternity leave, and I’m surprised to see her here and with the baby as well.

“Amanda. It’s so good to see you. David, nice to see you again. Congrats on the baby.”

“Thanks. I’m glad we could make it. Our sitter fell through, but I figured getting out of the house would do us all some good,” she says, cuddling the wrapped bundle against her chest.

I can’t help but watch her as she sways back and forth rocking the infant. Willow and I have talked about kids only once since the first night at the cabin. When it’s the right time and she’s ready, she’ll let me know, but until then, I don’t want to pressure her. Hell, if she tells me she never wants to have a kid, I’ll accept it without a fight, but part of me will always want one. Especially as I stare at the small tufts of dark hair sticking up over the pink blanket.

“What’s her name?” I ask trying not to make it obvious I’m daydreaming about Willow and me having our own someday.

“Melody Grace.”

“That’s beautiful,” I say, smiling.

“Thank you. We named her after both of our mothers. Would you like to hold her?” she asks, and my eyes snap up to hers.

“Really?” I ask, trying to keep the shock from my voice.

No one’s ever asked me if I wanted to hold their child. Then again, I don’t have many people in my life who have had children and I have no siblings or younger cousins, so I hesitate.

“Of course. Just don’t drop her,” she jokes as she smiles and lightly laughs at me while adjusting the infant in her arms.

Drop her? Oh, God. I didn’t even think about that.

I hold out my arms awkwardly, suddenly realizing I don’t know what the fuck to do. David chuckles before adjusting my posture, having me lean lower and let his wife place the little girl into my arms. I take a deep breath to steady my nerves as Amanda takes a step back fully trusting me with the infant.

Her eyes are closed and she looks so peaceful. She has a lot of dark hair and long, dark lashes. I always thought most babies were born bald, but I guess I was wrong on that as well. Jesus. If we do have a kid, I’m going to have to take a class or something.

“Just support her head. She doesn’t wiggle around too much yet, so you don’t have to worry about that,” David says, placing a hand on my shoulder.

“She’s beautiful,” I say.

“Thanks. She looks just like her mom,” David says.

“No. Everyone says she looks like you,” Amanda argues, but I barely hear her.

I’m completely in awe as I stare at Melody. She’s so tiny. I knew babies were small, but she’s so small that it looks like I could hold her with one hand. I’m not even going to try that because it sounds terrifying, but she definitely looks small enough.

“Do you have any kids?” David asks, and I can’t help the ache creeping into my chest.

“No. Not yet. Hopefully someday,” I say with a hint of sadness in my voice.

My voice is a bit too loud, and Melody starts to stir. She lets out a small whine as her eyes start to open. She squints, fussing and making small cooing noises before her eyes open fully, and she looks up at me. She doesn’t cry, she just stares at me, and I can feel the ache growing heavier in my chest.

What if Willow never wants to have kids? I guess if Jeremy has kids, I can be the best uncle ever and spoil them rotten. Birthdays, Christmases, presents just because it’s a random Tuesday. Spoil them all.

Melody starts opening and closing her mouth before letting out a shrill cry. It startles me, and I suddenly feel like I did something wrong.

“Oh, she’s probably hungry. Here, I’ll take her,” Amanda says, gently scooping the infant from my arms.

“Thank you,” I say stupidly.

She just looks up at me nods and smiles knowingly before walking away with the baby. It’s as if she could tell from the sadness in my voice how badly I want my own. Damnit. I guess baby fever is a real thing.