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8 months later
I roll over and seek Aiden out in my sleep. When my hand lands on the cool material of the sheet, I crack an eye open, and check the time on my bedside clock. It’s just past 2 a.m. — and technically, it’s time for the boys’ next feed. I roll over, and plant my feet on the hardwood floor, stretching my arms above my head before standing. I’m on the precipice of our bedroom and the hallway when I hear Aidien’s voice. He’s mumbling, but I can’t make out what he’s saying until I walk closer to the nursery and lean against the door frame. Aiden’s sitting in the high back rocking chair with his back to the door, and our son, Wyatt, in his arms, trying to get him to take a bottle. “We need to let Mommy sleep,” he murmurs. “And give her boobies a break.” I snicker into my hand, thankful when Aiden hasn’t realized I’m watching him. “Be a good little champ, for me, huh?” He presses the teat to Wyatt’s mouth, and I watch his body sag in relief when Wyatt takes it, sucking with gusto. I step into the nursery, and it’s Wyatt’s gaze that gives me away when he looks over Aiden’s shoulder. Aiden looks over and gives me his heart stopping smile. “Hi.”
“Hey you.” I rest my arms on the back of the rocker, and touch Wyatt’s nose, giving him a smile.
“Did I wake you?” Aiden asks, his neck craned so he can see me. “I tried to be quiet.”
I shake my head. “I woke up because you weren’t next to me,” I clarify.
Aiden turns back to Wyatt, who’s dressed in a light blue and white onesie with boats on it. I move over to the other crib, grinning when I see our other son, Ethan, wiggling around like a little worm. His mouth opens, and his eyes widen when he sees me. “Hi, bubba.” I cradle him in my arm, and kiss his forehead, inhaling his baby scent. It’s hard to believe it’s been a month since they arrived. And what a whirlwind of a day that was. I was scheduled for a c-section at the end of August, but our boys decided to come early. It completely toppled my birthing plan, but because we were warned it might happen, Aiden and I were as prepared as we could be,which means not at all. Wyatt and Ethan West made a rather loud debut into the world and have had me, and Aiden wrapped around the tiny fingers ever since. I take a seat in the other high back rocking chair and unzip my maternity bra. Ethan latches on easily, and I brush my finger down his pert little nose, rocking back and forth. At six weeks old, they have a ferocious appetite, and much to my relief, they’ve started sleeping longer between feeds. They’re easy babies, for which I’m grateful. When Aiden is done feeding Wyatt, he stands and starts rubbing his back, and as soon as Ethan is done, I’m doing the same. We lull the boys to sleep, and gently lay them back down. I lean my head against Aiden’s shoulder, looking down at our children. “We made some pretty cute kids,” I remark quietly, wrapping my hand around Aiden’s bicep. Aiden kisses the top of my head, and replies, “You did all the work,” he teases. I snort, and then quickly slap my hand over my mouth so as to not wake our babies. “You’re impossible,” I giggle. “It takes two, remember?”
He gives me a droll look. “It’s been eight weeks since we last rolled around in bed, Mrs. West, I think I’ve forgotten.”
I gasp, though I’m smiling, and slap his arm. “Aiden!”
He chuckles and moves to wrap an arm around my shoulders. “I’m just teasing, babe.” He lets out a sigh. “Is it weird that I have to pinch myself every time I look at them? To remind myself they’re here?”
I shake my head. “No, it’s not weird. We’re still adjusting, even with all the help we have.” And we havea lotof help. Between my parents, who now live right next door, and Liv, and Gabby, our boys are never short of affection and love. We are surrounded by a proverbial village of people who are ready and willing to help us if we need it. “Do you want more?” Aiden asks softly, his gaze flitting between our sons as they sleep. I give him a look, and he shrugs a big shoulder. “I’m just asking.”
“Let’s just survive two, okay? Maybe in two years’ time we can talk about another one. I wouldn’t mind a little girl.”
Aiden looks at me, a slight curve to his lips. “I was thinking the same thing. About a girl, I mean.”
“I’m not opposed to it,” I admit. “I’m an only child, and I’d like a big family.” I let out a breath. “But talking babies gets me frisky,” I laugh. “So, let’s not go there right now.”
Aiden pivots and rests a hand on my hip. I’m dressed only in panties, and one of his t-shirts. He rolls his forehead on mine. “I can get on board with frisky,” he chuckles.
Little does he know, I got the all-clear from the OB/GYN today. Aiden’s not wrong about it being alongeight weeks of celibacy. I was far too uncomfortable in the two weeks before the boys came and couldn’t imagine sleeping with Aiden. It was encouraged, since sex can induce labor, but I was cranky, and felttoo big. But Aiden has been patient with me. He’s so hands-on with everything, it feels like I have a partner at my side and not merely a husband. Then again, I always knew Aiden would be present, he proved as much during and after my pregnancy. I cup his face in my hands, his stubble bristly against my palms. I press a kiss to his lips, aware of how his grip tightens on my hip. “Not here,” I whisper. “Let’s not scare the kids just yet.”
“Yeah?”
I nod, and take his hand, leading him from the nursery to our bedroom. We leave it open in case the boys wake, but I turn on my heels and stretch to wrap my arms around Aiden’s neck. I slant my mouth over his, tasting the seam of his lip before he opens, and flicks his hot tongue against mine. He lifts my shirt over my head and unzips my bra while I slip my panties down my legs and reach for his boxer briefs. We fall onto the bed, trying to muffle our laughter, and then our sighs. He gives me a chance to adjust, wiggling his hips just the slightest bit, and I arch off the bed. He places wet, open kisses down my neck, and over my breasts. My hands claw at his back, and we breathe as one. Because I’m still so sensitive, it doesn’t take long for my orgasm to rush over me in a wave of warmth and happy hormones, and not far behind me is Aiden. His body straining with his release. He rolls over, and I find my space within the safety of his arm, kissing his shoulder. His chest moves up and down as he works for breath, and he turns his head, his thumb rubbing my sweet-damp cheek. “Worth the wait,” he murmurs, a teasing lilt to his tone. I snort into his shoulder and shake my head, mutteringheyagainst his skin. He twists so we’re face-to-face. “I mean you,” he says quietly. “You were worth the wait, Luna. I didn’t even know I was looking for you until I found you, and I couldn’t even dream up this life,ourlife, if I tried. And you gave it to me.”
My heart flips over in my chest, and I feel the love for this man deep in my soul. He’s buried himself so deep, I have no hope of ever getting him out. “You gave me the second chance I needed, Aiden. And a family I adore. You gave me everything, including your heart.”
He stares at me for a beat, licking his lips. “You would have ended up with my heart one way or another, Luna. I waited foryou.”
“ I’d go through it all again just to have this life,” I reply with a breath. “With you and only you.”
We manage to sleep for three hours before the boys wake us, but what I’ve found is that with Aiden, I feel part of a team. Yes, life is chaotic between having had our babies, and running our businesses, but I love our life. I wouldn’t change it, or Aiden and my babies, for anything. Not a single thing. Even when my tummy refuses to snap back, my nipples are the size of dimes and I have stretch marks in odd places, I wouldn’t change a thing.
