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In one sweeping motion, he had her in his arms and on her back, his lips a soft tease against hers. “You certainly know how to get what you want, Mrs. Murphy.”
With a palm against his wildly beating heart, she pushed against him. “But doyouwant another one?”
That delicious low chuckle rumbled from his throat. “Yeah. A daughter might be fun.” He moved to nuzzle her neck, stopping to whisper in her ear. “So we start tonight, right?”
She didn’t have to answer.
“That night is still one of my favorite memories, Helen,” Kevin murmured into her hair.
She still blushed at her brazen tactic, though clearly Kevin hadn’t minded one bit.
“I was afraid you would be disappointed when I saw that Brandon was not going to be a Brooklyn before the nurse announced he was a boy.”
Smiling with contentment, Helen shook her head against Kevin’s shoulder. “It was love at first sight.”
“You said that with all of them.”
“It was true with all of them.”
Kevin stroked the forearm she’d draped over him. “We still ended up with an odd number—and a weird middle child.”
“Jackson was born unique. And he’s fine with it. Anyway, he’s a perfectly hilarious sort of weird.”
“Hmm . . . that’s true.” After an interlude of silence, Kevin chuckled softly. “Remember how you told me about Brayden?”
Again, Helen smiled. “That was my favorite tell.”
They had agreed six was it for them. Their house was full, their family complete.
Famous last words.
When Helen realized number seven was on the way, she’d almost shrugged it off. Of their seven boys, only two had been planned babies—a thing that was noted by her mother with a wry comment—You do know how this works, right dear?—so by then, she was used to that sort of surprise. However, unlike the other unexpected pregnancies, this one wouldn’t throw them into financial crisis.
By God’s grace, the Murphys had landed on their feet, and they were doing okay.
But she had been a little anxious about telling Kevin. So she’d reverted to humor to share the news. On an evening when the boys had gone to spend the night at George and Elizabeth Clayton’s, Helen had made one of Kevin’s favorite dishes—lasagna—and also prepped a paper sack. After he enjoyed their intimate meal for two, she pulled it up from beneath the table and handed it to him.
“What’s this?” He asked.
“Open it.”
He eyed her with a suspicious gleam. “Your surprises are usually a long-term investment.”
Something like that. Helen gestured to her offering, then sat back and watched while he unfolded the top of the brown bag.
Then he tugged out the notecard she’d penned with a Sharpie. “I’m told you’re the best one around, so I can’t wait to meet you, D—” Kevin’s eyes cut from the note card to Helen, and for a breath they held on her. Disbelieving and a little wild. “Daddy?”
Helen stretched out a smile—her silentsurprise!
“Another baby?”
“We’re really good at making them.” Her anxiety notched up at his stunned reaction.
And then . . . then Kevin laughed. He laughed and laughed until there were tears leaking from his eyes, and Helen laughed with him.
“Seven?” he said between gasps.
“Seven.”
