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I jolt when I feel Shayla’s delicate hand on my back, and I whip around to find her standing behind me, though she thankfully has the blanket tightly wrapped around her, or else I’d lose my mind. Well, more so than I already have. But her hair is a wild mess, half fallen out of her ponytail, and she looks nothing short of freshly fucked, which I do not want the guys to see.
She laughs when I groan in frustration. “Sorry, guys, my sisters are too young.” They both look dejected, and I swear to God, Martin actually sulks as he deflates until she follows up with, “But I have a few cousins…oh! And maybe one friend that I can introduce you to at our wedding.” She winks, and they give each other an air high-five through the screens.
Then she slides her hand down to my front and grips my shaft where they can’t see, slowly sliding her hand up and down until I’m shuddering with the need to sink inside her pregnant pussy again.
“Got to go, guys. We’re not done celebrating,” she says to them, but it’s me she’s looking at, begging me to take her to bed with her eyes.
“So…same time next week, you two?” Isaiah teases, wagging his brows up and down.
“Dead!” I manage to fully shut down the system this time, abruptly cutting off Isaiah and Martin and their belly-aching laughter before scooping my angel up in my arms and carrying her off to our bedroom. We’re not even close to being done celebrating our good news.
Chapter 28
James
“We are never doing this again,” I say, clutching my chest and trying to force air into my lungs. My heart might be bursting with joy, but that’s not all, and I have to put my foot down now. Let her know right away that this is it. We’re done.
“We?” Shayla stresses the word with disbelief, then laughs once before pressing a hand to her lower stomach over her hospital gown and grimacing in pain. “I’m the one who did all the hard work.”
“And I’m the one who had to watch you do it. Can’t put you through that again. My heart just can’t take it, angel.” I shake my head and drag a sweaty palm down my face, which still feels a bit numb after my blood pressure dropped with her first blood-curdling scream. I feel like I’ve been dragged to hell and back just watching my angel labor for hours before delivering our first biological child together—our son, Gentry.
“But James, look at how cute he is. He’s a mini-you! And isn’t he just the sweetest little man?” She flutters her eyelashes, which would go a lot further in convincing me to touch her again if her eyes weren’t bloodshot from pushing so hard. “And just imagine how adorable our little girl would be.”
I huff and cross my arms in mock indignation, narrowing my eyes at her. “We already have a little girl, and she’s the most adorable little girl in the world.”
“But James…” she whines. “You said you wanted two before I graduated.” And then Shayla pouts in the way she knows will make me give in to whatever she wants every damn time she does it. She figured it out after she got me to drive from Lubbock to El Paso and back in one day for the authentic Mexican food she was craving from a particular restaurant she visited once on vacation years ago. But I won’t let it work on me this time.
“That was before your epidural failed, and I had to listen to you scream bloody murder bringing our son into the world, and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do to help.” I’m not used to being useless when it comes to taking care of my wife, and I despise it. “So I changed my mind. No more babies. And that’s final.”
The nurse, who had been quietly making notes in Shayla’s chart, snorts. I shoot her an annoyed look, and she slowly drags her glasses down her nose to look at me over the red frames as she sets a fist on her hip.
I wince and mouth, “Sorry,” to the nurse for giving her attitude. She chuckles, gives Shayla a wink, and goes back to her notes.
Shayla looks fit to argue again, but then there’s an explosion of excited voices from the hall and a knock on the door. Miranda and Sherman, whom I called when Shayla went into labor so they could get on the road to Lubbock, step into the hospital room with their children and grandbabies in tow. They’re followed closely by Eden and her daughter, Ivy—Lainey’s half-sister—and Eden’s fiancé, Martin.
Martin’s knees damn near buckled when he first laid eyes on Eden at our rehearsal dinner the night before our wedding. Then, our wedding coordinator had paired the two of them—my groomsman and Shayla’s bridesmaid—to walk down the aisle together, and he couldn’t keep his eyes off her. He nearly tripped over his own feet since he wasn’t paying attention to where they were walking as they proceeded to the altar.
If I thought Shayla blushed fiercely when I first started calling her my angel, it was nothing compared to how Eden looked when Martin called her my lady in that ridiculously deep voice of his, like some medieval knight character straight out of our game. He followed her around for the entirety of the reception, offering her food and drinks and making sure she was comfortable. He even started tearing up when Eden asked if he could hold Ivy for the first time so she and her mother could use the restroom. Then they slow danced for the rest of the night with Ivy held between them.
They’ve been inseparable since that night almost eight months ago. Since we moved away and can’t spend time with Eden and Ivy regularly, as we did during the summer, we’re comforted knowing that Eden has more than just her mother to lean on. Martin looks at her like she’s the air he needs to breathe, just as Shayla and I still do to each other.
It’s nothing but chaos as they each congratulate us, and Sherman claps me hard on the back first, then rejoins Miranda. His eyes turn glassy as he hugs Shayla around the shoulders and says, “You did good, honey. Such a beautiful family.”
Poor Isaiah, though. He walks in last, observes the crowd, swiftly joins me on the other side of Shayla’s bed, and then squeezes himself in between me and the wall. He can’t get away from Bailey—the oldest of Shayla’s two sisters, at almost fourteen years old—fast enough. Shayla and I find it amusing how Bailey looks at him like she’s star-struck—Isaiah most certainly does not.
Bailey perks up and twirls her blonde hair around her finger. “Hi, Isaiah.”
Sherman sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose.
Isaiah looks to my father-in-law—his new best friend after Sherman took my place in our RPG group—and says, “A little help here, please.”
Sherman pulls Bailey into his side with a whispered, “How many times do I have to tell you to leave him alone? Give it a rest before he bolts and never comes back.”
Bailey turns away and pouts.
Isaiah relaxes a fraction as he greets Shayla with a kiss on her cheek and shakes Gentry’s hand. “Hey, little dude. Pleased to finally meet you.”
Bailey and Autumn fight over who gets to hold the baby first. Bailey wins since she’s the oldest, and she cradles him carefully to her chest. It’s a lovely, rare moment of quiet…until she turns wide, silvery-blue eyes on Isaiah and says, “Imagine what our baby—”
