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"See for yourself." I lean to the left, allowing her to see the crib.
Scout's strapped into her bouncy seat inside, her wide, solemn eyes locked on Samara through the slats of the crib. Ever since we stopped the sedation drugs two days after her surgery, she spends her time watching the world in abject fascination. Samara is her favorite subject of study. Whenever she's near, Scout's eyes are locked on her.
"Hi, baby," Samara croons, instantly coming alive. She sits upright, her face lighting up with happiness. She rises to her feet, stretching her arms over her head. Her shirt lifts, showing a flash of her sun-kissed skin.
My dick throbs, demanding attention we both know he isn't getting. Not today. It's been a little over four weeks since Scout's surgery. There have been highs and lows, good days, and days that worried the fuck out of me. There were days where Samara wouldn't leave her bedside for even a second, too afraid something would happen if she stepped away. Hell, there were days I didn't leave her bedside, worried as fuck something would happen if I did. But Scout…well, nothing stops Scout. She was born with a warrior's spirit as fierce as her mom's and a heart as pure as her aunt's.
She's the strongest little girl I've ever met. I'm so in love with her. My brothers give me all kinds of grief about it. I don't care. Let them. I held this baby's heart in my hands, painstakingly stitching her back together. You're damn right I'm wrapped around her finger. I'd go to war for her, just like I would her aunt.
After four weeks, we're finally going home. I can't wait to get my girls to Silver Spoon Falls. I can't wait to see Scout grow and thrive outside of the hospital. I can't wait to fall asleep with Samara in my arms, our girl right down the hall. There are a million things I can't wait to experience with these two. Mostly though, I can't wait to have them under my roof, where I can keep an eye on them. Samara won't let me stay overnight at the hospital with them unless I'm off duty, so the last four weeks have come with far too many sleepless nights.
I miss the hell out of my girls when they're here and I'm not. They belong with me.
"Good morning, my sweet, sweet girl," Samara croons to Scout, padding toward the crib. She lowers the side rail and then unlatches the straps keeping Scout in her seat.
Scout kicks her tiny feet, cooing softly.
Samara gently lifts her out of the seat and into her arms, cradling her close. Her nose skims along Scout's crown as she inhales deeply, pulling that fresh baby scent into her lungs. She says she loves the way Scout smells because, no matter what she's going through or how many wires or bandages she has, she always smells like a baby.
She's wire-free now. Her bandages are gone too. Scout has blossomed over the last couple of weeks, shedding monitoring equipment piece by piece. We kept her a little longer than strictly necessary to make sure there weren't going to be more setbacks or complications, but she's finally out of the woods.
She's growing before our eyes. Already, she's a whole new baby, rosy-cheeked and filling out. Her tiny legs have rolls now that she's feeding from a bottle instead of the NG tube that ran down her nose. She got rid of it for good two weeks ago.
"Are you hungry?"
"I fed her, angel," I murmur, stepping up behind Samara and wrapping my arm around her waist. I press a kiss to her shoulder and then her temple, loving the way she melts against me, allowing me to hold them. "We wanted to let you sleep for a little while."
She hasn't gotten much of that lately. No one ever does in a hospital.
Jules came and stayed with Scout twice to give us a break. The first night, neither of us slept a wink. Samara cried most of the night. It broke my heart. I know she needed it though, so I held her through it and let her cry herself out. When she finished, we just held each other until the sun came up. The second night, we made love most of the night. I took her again and again, until she was too exhausted to move.
Jules knew exactly what we'd been up to the next morning when Samara walked around Scout's room like she'd been horseback riding. Her adorable blush every time she looked at me kept me from feeling like a complete asshole. So long as she's happy, I'm happy.
"Do you want breakfast?" I ask Samara.
"Mm, maybe just coffee," she says with a sweet sigh of contentment. "Oh, and a muffin." She laughs quietly. "And a banana."
"I'll give you my banana tonight."
"Tate," she groans. "Not in front of Scout!"
"Are you saying you don't want it?"
"Well, no," she says, looking at me over her shoulder like I'm crazy.
I shake my head, chuckling. "Didn't think so." I press my lips to her forehead. "Why don't you get dressed and start packing up? I'll go get your breakfast, and then work on getting Scout released from this joint."
"Okay," she agrees, her eyes bright with happiness. Her gaze drifts from me to Scout. "What do you think, little one? Are you ready to go home?"
Scout coos again.
"Jesus Christ," Cash mutters, glaring at the loaded wagon I wheel toward him. He rakes a hand down his jaw, looking mildly sick. "Do babies really need all this shit?"
"Yep," I lie. "And you're having two."
Fifth snorts behind him but doesn't call me on my bullshit. Samara doesn't know they're here yet. It's a surprise. They all came to give Scout a proper escort home.
"It's a good thing you're rich, brother," Giant says, slapping my pale best friend on the back before taking the wagon from me. "You want this shit in your cage, Hands?" He jerks his chin toward my SUV, indicating what he means.
