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West was a fucking handful when she was feeling like herself, but Jessie and I both loved every bit of her, and we would hold on to every bit of that sexy-ass woman of ours that we could.
Jessie walked up the stairs. West came down a moment later. “Jessie going to bed?” she asked me.
I nodded and stood up from the floor. I pressed a kiss to the top of Hope’s head before I leaned forward and softly kissed West. “You still good, baby?” I asked her.
She smiled at me. “I feel amazing right now.” I could tell that she was being honest. Her guards were down, her green eyes shining beautifully.
“Hungry?” I asked her as I walked into the kitchen. I could hear her following me, cooing softly to Hope.
“A little. I honestly feel like I could sleep ten more hours,” I flashed her a wink at her words, making her blush, “but I wanted to spend some time with Hope.”
“Tell you what,” I told West as I set about cutting up a banana and halving some strawberries for her. It was one of her favorite things to eat when she was hungry but not hungry enough for a full-blown meal. “When Hope goes down for a nap, you and I can cuddle on the couch and sleep until she wakes up. How’s that sound?”
“Sounds amazing,” West breathed.
I flashed her a grin. “Sit,” I ordered, nodding my head toward the kitchen table. I set her plate of fruit in front of her. “Eat while I make Hope her bottle. She needs to eat soon. She’ll probably fall asleep not too long after she’s finished.”
For the most part, West ate quietly, occasionally whispering something to Hope, though she knew Hope couldn’t understand her. What mattered though, was that West was determined to build a bond with our daughter. The first step to that was letting Hope get used to the smell of her, the sound of her heartbeat, and her voice.
West was insane to have ever thought she wouldn’t make a good mom. Because right here, right now, anyone looking at them together could tell that West was an amazing mother.
Sure, she struggled at first, but she kept fighting instead of giving up. She pushed through—continued pushing through every single day—to make sure she was everything that Hope needed and more.
And in my eyes, that made her the best fucking mom in the entire damn world.
In my mind, West would forever have a heart of gold and a soul that shined brightly. That darkness inside of her could try all it wanted to tear her down, to drown her in its inky blackness, but that light in West’s soul would forever save her.
And I couldn’t wait to see how beautiful and incredible West became when she finally overcame all of the darkness inside of her trying to tear her apart.
Because when she finally accomplished it? She would be an unstoppable, breathtaking force.
39
Jessie
When I walked downstairs later that evening, Lincoln was making dinner, and West was lying on the floor on her belly with Hope, though Hope had just taken to lying there with her head on the floor, soft coos escaping her lips.
West’s eyes were fluttering closed, but she jerked them back open when they landed on me. I crouched down next to her and ran my hand over her dark hair. “Easy, baby,” I soothed. “Why don’t you take a nap?” I asked her.
She pouted “I did.” Then, she yawned. “I want to be up while Hope is up.”
“She’s being stubborn as hell,” Lincoln informed me from the kitchen. “I keep telling her I can take care of Hope.”
“But I’m her mom,” West said, as if that ended the argument.
“Okay, and we’re her dads,” I retorted, narrowing my eyes at her. “We can take care of Hope, too, West. Don’t overdo yourself. I know your ecstatic that you’re having a really good day, but don’t push yourself to the point that tomorrow, you have a bad one.”
She frowned, knowing I had a point. She sat up with a long sigh, nodding her head at me. “Okay,” she whispered as she lifted Hope up.
West pressed a kiss to her forehead before she gently handed Hope to me. I leaned forward and softly kissed West, letting my tongue slide with hers for a beat before I pulled back. “Take a nap,” I commanded. “I can handle Hope while Lincoln finishes dinner.”
She sighed and stood up from the floor, moving over to the couch. Almost as soon as her head hit the pillow, she was out, soft snores leaving her parted lips. She was more tired than she thought she was.
I walked into the kitchen. Lincoln ripped his eyes from our woman, turning to look at Hope in my arms before he focused back on making dinner. “She didn’t sleep that long,” he told me. “We were asleep maybe an hour, if that, before Hope woke up.” He sighed. “I told her to continue sleeping, but she wanted to try to soothe her.”
