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She blinks wide eyes at me, as serious and somber as ever. She's the quietest baby I've ever met. She rarely fusses or cries. Even when she doesn't feel well, she whines, but doesn't scream or cry or throw tantrums like most babies her age. She’s perfectly capable of it. In the ten months since her surgery, she's grown like a weed.
But she's simply quite by nature. Like Samara.
I quickly change her wet diaper, sanitize my hands, and then lift her from the crib, cradling her tiny body close to my chest.
"Dada," she sighs, laying her head on my shoulder.
My damn heart melts just like it always does when she says my name and snuggles up against me. Had anyone told me nine months ago that my whole goddamn heart would belong to this tiny little girl and her beautiful aunt, I wouldn't have believed it.
And yet not a day goes by when I'm not thanking God for bringing them to me. Not a day goes by when I'm not grateful as hell to call them mine.
"Mama."
"Mama is sleeping, baby girl," I murmur, kissing her head as I settle into the rocking chair. It's after midnight. I had a late surgery and just got home. But I couldn't go to bed without coming to see our girl. It's like she knows when I'm coming. As soon as I walk through the door, those little eyes open. No matter how late I get in, she's waiting for me.
Samara is the same way. By the time I make it to our room, she'll be awake and waiting for me too. My girls miss me when I'm not here. It makes coming home to them all that much sweeter.
My wife hasn't realized it yet, but it's going to be even sweeter soon. Unless I'm wrong--and I'm fucking not--she's pregnant. Her period is a week late and she's been extra sleepy the past few days. Her nipples are also extremely sensitive.
I'm just waiting for her to figure it out. I don't want to steal her thunder. According to my brothers' wives, women like to be the first to know these things. I'm pretty sure they like to be the first to know everything. It's a rule, right under the one about them always being right.
I can't fucking wait for her to figure it out. I've been dying to get her pregnant since day one. But we both decided it was best to wait a little while so we could focus on Scout.
But our baby girl is thriving. Her heart is strong and she's safe. The assholes who killed Siobhan are finally dead or behind bars, thanks to Creed Thomas. They won't see freedom for a long time.
"Are you ready to be a big sister, baby girl?" I ask, rubbing her back as I rock the chair back and forth. It creaks faintly, a familiar sound that's oddly soothing.
Scout presses her fist to her mouth, looking up at me.
"Your mama has a secret but she doesn't know it yet," I whisper. "You're getting a baby brother or sister."
"Mama."
My lips curve, my heart melting all over again. She knows exactly three words. Mama, Dada, and Pinn, which I assume means Finn since the asshole is her favorite person aside from my wife. Not that it counts or anything since he buys her affection. But every time she says one of the three, it thrills me.
Despite everything she's been through, she's developing right on the curve. She's still tiny. She probably will be for a while. But she's hitting every milestone right on time.
I was a little worried, mostly because no one ever puts her down long enough for her to explore on her own. My brothers all have a soft spot for my baby girl, and I appreciate the hell out of them for it. I sleep at night knowing she and Samara will always be safe, and will always have family. But it's a sad day when you have to steal your own baby from them because they won't share her.
Assholes.
"Mama," Scout whispers, her eyes fluttering before they fall closed.
I don't put her down right away. I lean back and close my eyes. Just enjoying the moment.
Fuck, I can’t wait until there's another little one in here with her.
"Wake up, Sleeping Beauty," Samara's teasing voice whispers as a soft hand drifts across the side of my face.
"I'm not asleep."
"Yeah? Then Scout was snoring awfully loud," she says, running her hand through my hair.
"Shit." I blink my eyes open, glancing at the little analog clock on Scout's dresser. As soon as I see the time, my arms instinctively tighten around our baby girl. "I fell asleep."
"Only for a few minutes." Samara smiles at me, all sleep tousled and sweet. One side of her oversized t-shirt slips down, exposing her shoulder.
My mouth waters at the sight of her porcelain skin. God, she's a vision. The prettiest little angel I've ever seen.
