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“Two girls and two dads like these? They’ll be locked in the house as soon as they become teens. Can you imagine trying to date Jem Jones’s or Dylan Morgan’s daughter?” asks Ruby.
I sit in an armchair near Ruby. “Jem’s protective, I bet.”
“Oh, yeah. He freaks out every time she cries loudly in case she’s sick, or if she sleeps too long, which is crazy. He needs to chill out.” Ruby says the words louder, and Jem shakes his head at her.
On cue, their daughter wakes, the tiny baby noises causing a hormonal rush of my own, joined by apprehension as I watch Jem cross and lift his daughter from the bassinet. As soon as she’s in her dad’s arms, the little girl quiets. He wraps the pink blanket around Quinn and holds her against him, suddenly oblivious to everybody and everything.
Tears fill my eyes at the scene, a confusing mix in my head. Imagining this is my baby, and Jem is Dylan, but most of all watching the most destructive person—to his lives and others—holding his new life in his arms and his new world together.
DYLAN
I followJem into the large, slate-floored kitchen. Every surface is covered in baby items, the tiny person taking over everything.
Supporting his daughter against his shoulder, he opens the fridge and looks in. “Do you want a drink?”
“I’m good.”
“’kay.” I stare at the weird sight and grasp at my emotions, attempting to figure them out. Jealousy? Joy? Nervous anticipation? How the hell does he do this father thing so naturally, the tiny bundle of baby in his tattooed arms, her head resting against his neck.
Surreal.
What the hell do men say to each other in these circumstances?
“How’s it going?” I ask and tip my head at the swaddled baby.
“Weird.”
There’s nothing weird about the love in Jem’s eyes as he looks down at Quinn. Jem alive after last year is one good thing; Jem filled with happiness is fucking amazing.
“You look good, man. Sorry I was rude about Ruby in the past.”
“Nah, she’s unique. Takes a bit of understanding.”
“Which is why you guys are perfect,” I say with a laugh.
Jem’s smile grows.
“What are babies like?” I blurt, then rub my head. “I mean, Quinn. What’s she like?”
“She’s Quinn. No idea what other peoples’ babies are like. Cerys says she’s calm.” I snort. “That was Liam’s reaction too.”
“I’m worried I’ll be crap at being a dad.”
He rests against the counter and shifts Quinn in his arms. “If I can do it, you can.” He’s half-serious. “Stay sober and follow your instincts.”
I can’t help it, but I chuckle. Jem frowns at me. “Sorry, baby guru.” I back up when his frown becomes a scowl. “Jem, I messing with you. It think it’s fucking awesome.”
He lowers his voice. “We have a rule. No swearing in the house.”
I blink at his serious face and bite the edge of my lip to stop an amusing retort he probably won’t find funny. That ends Sky’s theory about baby’s first word. “Sorry.”
I look back through the door where Sky sits and chats to Ruby. There’s more eye contact than usual, less tension. Sky’s spoken to Cerys about babies, but a new mother is who Sky needs to connect with. I watch them and picture us all in the future. What will happen? Will the kids be friends? Will this situation bond Jem and me again? Fuck knows we were broken long enough. I want us to be the brothers we once were to each other.
“How’s the pregnancy going?” asks Jem in another set of words I never expected from his mouth.
“Mine?” I rub my stomach. “Pretty good.”
“Funny. How’s Sky?”
