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Nash and I put the twins to sleep in my old bedroom upstairs once it gets dark. We’ll wake them up when it’s time to go back to Quinn and Owen’s house later, but for now, they’re entirely spent. A day of flying and playing and stuffing your cheeks full of cake will do that.
My husband and I watch our two not-so-little ones drift off to sleep, and then instead of going back down to join the rest of the family, I take his hand and we wander through the house, quietly exploring the rest of my parents’ renovations.
All the rooms are beautiful and relaxing, and I lead Nash through Lydia’s old room to the small balcony that I always used to covet as a girl.
“I was the oldest so I thought I should have a balcony,” I explained with a laugh. “Nevermind the fact that her room was about half the size of mine.”
“It is nice out here, though,” Nash says when we go outside.
The balcony faces the side of the house, so we can hear people talking and laughing in the backyard, but they’re out of sight. That suits me just fine for the moment, because I just need a minute to be alone with my husband.
My life.
My love.
Father of my children.
“I love you so much,” I say, looking into his rich, dark eyes instead of the view from the balcony.
“I love you too, babe,” he says. His hands come up to my cheeks, framing my face as he pulls me into a kiss. We linger in it for a moment, and when we finally pull back a bit, he asks, “Has visiting your family gotten you feeling nostalgic?”
I smile, shake my head. Then I put my hand on top of his, lift it off my cheek and lower it to my belly. “It’s not my family that has me emotional—it’s ours.”
Nash’s eyes light up. “Are you serious?”
I nod.
“We’re having another baby?” he asks.
I nod again.
He turns toward the backyard and cups his hands around his mouth. “Hey, everybody! We’re having another baby!”
Everybody cheers, even though they can’t see us, and I smack him on the shoulder. “You’re gonna wake up the twins.”
He turns around and scoops me into his arms. “I don’t care. I will gladly deal with fifty cranky four-year-olds because I’m so damn happy right now.”
He kisses me and I laugh again. “Would you say you can’t help your shelf?”
Nash grins. “I would, but I’m too well-read to recycle an old pun. Instead, I’ll just say I can’t wait to get you truly alone so I can dog-ear your pages.”
He gives me a playful growl and kisses me again, and I’m so happy and full of love, I can’t wait to pour some of it onto this new baby.
Life is perfect, at least in my book.
