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I smiled over my shoulder at Jasper, pretending not to see the fear swimming in his eyes. “I feel like your child is trying to kick his or her way out.”
He laughed, something he did more and more these days. I didn’t know if it was because he was just happier with me or if it was because I told him he was never sexier than we he laughed. Either way, the sight of his smile never failed to make my heart stutter. “That’s the Ashby way.”
I rolled my eyes and laughed. “And what of this baby’s Caffrey side?” My words came out short and choppy as a contraction tore through me.
“A double Irish child? Must be our punishment for being such hellions. We’re lucky he’s not shooting his way out.”
“Once you’re holding him in your arms, you’ll change your mind,” Sadie assured me as she pulled to a stop in front of the hospital.
“Don’t worry,” I said as the contraction eased, “I’m so ready to meet him.”
The next few hours were a blur, but the thing I’d remember for the rest of my life was Jasper clasping my hand in the delivery room, trying his best to be supportive by using a slew of comforting profanities. No one dared check him for his language, and when I wasn’t screaming, I laughed my way through my seventy-minute labor session.
The room filled with Ashbys, all of them showed up to see my baby boy, to welcome another member of the Ashby clan. They were loud and beautiful, boisterous as hell as they filled the room at once, instead of two at a time like the hospital mandated.
“He’s so fucking cute,” Virgil growled as he held his nephew. “Can’t be Jasper’s kid.”
Jasper took our son, Cillian Alistair Ashby, back in his arms and kissed the top of his head.
“Look at him, he’s unmovable, unshakable, ice cold. That’s my boy through and through.”
“Pretty sure he’s my boy, too” I offered up, my voice weak, my body exhausted, but a smile on my face. My family was here, gathered all around me and my little unit, wishing us well. This wasn’t even a part I knew to add to the fairytale, but at this moment in time, I was happy to enjoy the surprise of it.
It wasn’t the fairytale I’d dreamed up. Instead of the white picket fence, it was a metal security gate. Instead of a house in the burbs, it was a mansion under constant surveillance by one of the government alphabet groups. Instead of the ring, I got, well, I got Jasper. We would probably never get married and some days it pained my heart; other days I was determined to love the life I had. To be present in it. To stop wishing for more.
Vanessa accepted Cillian in her arms, and snuggled him close with a sweet smile. “He’s got your blue eyes and Jasper’s hair. Watch out for this one.”
“Glad you guys made it back.” She and Emmett had slipped away to the Virgin Islands and eloped while on honeymoon for vacation. “You’ve got a glow that I doubt is from the sun.”
Nessa smiled and shook her head, sniffing his head because my baby boy was the sweetest smelling baby in the hospital. The baby started to cry, and Nessa laughed. “He’s got Virgil’s volume control.”
Everyone laughed, including Jasper, the quietest of all Ashby brothers. I used to think Cal was the quiet one, but since Sadie was released from the hospital, he was a new man. No longer sullen and angry. He was upbeat, eager to please, and contributing actively to the family businesses. I still couldn’t tell if he and Molly were a thing or not, but she and I had become good friends with all the time she spent at the Manor.
Jasper scooped Cillian back into his arms and kissed his cheek, melting my heart with that one uncharacteristic move. He was still a hard man, a ruthless man, he had to be for the life he lived, but there were glimpses of marshmallow that showed me the man he couldn’t show the world. But with our baby boy, he was all gooey inside. “This is for you.”
I took the small box Jasper set on my lap and looked up at him with a question in my eyes.
“What is this?”
I knew what it wasn’t, and I was okay with it.
Really, I was.
“A baby gift, obviously.”
He rolled his eyes, and did a little swaying bounce move when Cillian started to fuss.
I slowly opened the box and gasped at the sight of the white gold band with three rows of rose diamonds. I smiled up at him.
“This is a little much for Cillian. Maybe in a few years, he’ll like it.”
“I’m asking you, Maureen, to be my wife. I want to marry you with vows and all that good shit. In sickness and in health. In madness and in chaos. I love and in war. All of it. I want to be at your side when it goes down. Successes and failures, it’s you I want to hold in my arms at the start of every day, the end of the night. I love you, Maureen, and I want you to be my wife.”
