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“He’s got dark hair, just like his daddy,” Squealer looks up to tell her. “Now, let’s see the rest of him. Push really hard for the next one.”
“You got this, you're doing amazin’.” I grip her sweat-soaked palms tighter and hold my own breath while she growls like some kinda feral animal and pushes at the same time.
“That’s right, you got it. He’s… he’s…” The sound of wailing rattles through the car and Gracie’s body collapses back against mine with exhaustion.
“He’s what? Squeal… Is he okay?” Squealer holds the tiny little thing up from between her legs.
“He’s a she.” He smirks at me as he gently places our baby on Gracie's chest.
“He’s a what now?” I check I heard him right. Carefully lifting up the little leg to check for myself.
“You got yourself a baby girl.” Squealer winks.
“She’s perfect.” Gracie’s shaking hand strokes over her head as she looks up at me with tears of joy in her eyes, and I look at the tiny little person in her arms, my heart turning to liquid.
Gracie’s right, she is perfect and she’s not cryin’ anymore. She’s looking right at me with big stunned eyes that are seeing the world for the first time. A world that she’s relying on me to make safe for her.
“Well, don’t let her go cold.” I wipe the tears from my eyes, struggling to get my shirt off my back so I can wrap it around her delicate, little body. I cover her over and place my arm under Gracie’s so I’m holding them both. My own hands shake as I cradle her hand and my thumb slides gently over her temple.
The sound of sirens is coming from the distance but it doesn’t distract me from staring into my little girl’s big, beautiful eyes. She’s looking at me as if I got all the answers, and despite the fact I got fuckin’ none, I decide she’ll never know it.
“I’ll let the professionals come and finish the job.” Squealer pats Gracie’s knee and when he goes to pull away, she grabs his wrist.
“Thank you. Squealer, you were incredible,” she tells him gratefully.
“You’re not the first woman to say that you know.” He winks at her.
“Hey.” I hold my hand out for him before he disappears. “I owe ya.”
“You don’t owe me a damn thing, brother. Watchin’ you attempt to raise a daughter with eyes like her mama's is gonna be all the reward I need… Good luck with that.” He smacks his palm into mine and tips his chin before walking away.
“You really wanted a boy.” Gracie drags her eyes off our little girl to remind me.
“I thought I did, but this…” I squeeze them both a little tighter in my arms. “…This is perfect.”
“Be careful, I could get used to this.” I can’t hide the smile on my face when I walk into the kitchen and see Michael cooking dinner.
“How was your shift?” He looks up from the pot he’s stirring, hitting me with those dark brown eyes that make my stomach flip and my pussy throb.
“Long and very tiring.” I slump down onto the chair and kick off my shoes. “Well, this ain’t gonna be ready for another half an hour. Why don’t you soak in the bath for a while? I could open some wine?” he suggests.
“That sounds like a very good plan.” I drag myself back onto my feet and head for the stairs.
“Jenna?” he calls after me, and when I turn around and see him walking toward me I can’t help imagining what it would feel like to have those rough hands of his touching me.
“I fixed the door on your wardrobe,” he tells me, looking at my lips and rubbing his together like he’s thinking about kissing them. “I hope you don’t mind me goin’ into your room. I didn't want to overstep, but since you told me that asshole tore it off while he was packin’ up his shit, I figured you could do without the reminder.”
“That’s really thoughtful. I don’t mind at all.” I smile at him and feel my eyelashes flutter before I head up the stairs and keep that smile fixed on my face.
Truth is, I haven’t thought about Paul at all since Michael came to my door four weeks ago asking for help. Taking him in went completely against my nature, but for the first time in so long, I actually feel like I’m living. Michael isn’t only handsome, I’ve come to learn that he’s intelligent too. His story is heartbreaking and the fact he shared it with me proves what he said about us having a connection is true. I’m not completely sure that he’s over the wife that he lost a few years ago, but I’m a strong believer that time is a healer, and I don’t mind taking things slow.
I’ve been hurt too. But what Paul did to me could never compare with what Michael’s own brother took from him. The betrayal of that is something I doubt he’ll ever get over. I saw the hurt and anger in his eyes when he told me the story, and that’s when I knew that I had to help him. He can stay here, in our safe little haven, for as long as he needs to. I will not turn my back on him like everyone else in his life has.
We sit and eat dinner at the kitchen table together, Michael tops up my glass with more wine and watches me intently as I take each bite from my fork.
“You ever thought about cuttin’ your hair a little shorter?” He reaches across the table so he can slip a few strands through his fingers. “I think it would really show off your features.”
“Are you a stylist now as well as a chef?” I smart back at him, making him chuckle.
