"You might want to wrap it in plastic before you touch it," I suggest.
"Way ahead of you. Same as disposing of a body." All eyes in the room land on Desmond. "Figuratively speaking, of course." He laughs awkwardly.
It's not like it's a secret who the owner of this house is. But it is frowned upon to talk openly about family matters-such as disposing of dead bodies-in front of guests.
Once the mattress is switched out and the bed is remade, I finally get my baby back. Baz has been hogging her.
Everyone gathers around to gaze at the beautiful, new, little life.
"She's a knockout, just like her mother." Desmond elbows Baz.
Baz smiles boastfully. I don't think a howitzer could eradicate his pride right now.
It's such a perfect moment. One I never thought I would live to see.
Once everyone leaves the room to start their day, Baz lounges next to me, doting over our daughter. She has him wrapped around her little finger already, and she's not even a day old yet.
"Stevie, can I ask you a question?" Baz watches Audie sleep in my arms.
"Of course." I run the back of my finger down her soft little cheek, a total goner for this child.
"Why didn't you let me fall off the cliff that day?"
I slice my face up, anger radiating. Why would he ask something like that now? "Baz-"
"I need to know," he intercepts my impending scolding. "Everything would have worked out the way it should have."
"Nothing would have worked out," I snap. "If I had let you fall, we wouldn't have this. We wouldn't have each other."
He searches my eyes for something. What, I couldn't guess. I don't always understand how Baz's mind works. I just know he interprets the world differently sometimes. He has dark thoughts, insecurities, and fears that run way deeper than the average person. I try to remember that when he asks questions like this, or has an outburst I wasn't prepared for, or sinks into a depression for no reason at all. Or for no reason I can comprehend. As normal as he portrays himself, I have to remember, Baz isn't normal. He fights demons every single day. And now I fight them, too.
I place my hand on his cheek. It's still smooth from yesterday's clean shave.
"It was instinctual. A natural reaction to preserve. I was protecting you even before I realized I should. You affected me from the very beginning. And everything worked out exactly the way it should have. She's living proof." I lift Audie's tiny sleeping head.
Baz nods as if this explanation satisfies him.
"I always thought I would be alone," he discloses with insecure eyes.
I smile warmly. "What a coincidence. So did I."
THE LAST THREE weeks have gone by in a blur.
After Audie's surprise arrival, we scrambled to set half of our bedroom up as a nursery. The upside to being married to a man with a slight obsessive-compulsive disorder is that shit gets done and done right. Baz had the bassinet and changing table assembled in no time at all, and not one screw was remotely loose.
Everything is different. Every day is a new adventure. I feel like a completely different human being, discovering motherhood has a profound effect. And significantly reduces your hours of sleep. Despite the fact I'm a walking zombie right now because my precious little angel has adopted a vampire's schedule, I'm determined to get back into shape. The doctor finally cleared me to exercise, so I'm giving Gun a literal run for his money down the private beach. He hates running. And sand. And sweating. So it's entertaining to hear the big bear bellyache. Even though I may not have been a fan of the bodyguards at first-considering they tried to kill me-the big lugs have grown on me like mildew.
"C'mon, slowpoke, keep up!" I spin and yell to him.
He trudges down the beach. "Didn't you just have a baby? Aren't you tired?"
"Not in the least." I kick my knees up. Truth be told, I feel exactly how he looks. Beat down and exhausted, but I'm not going to let him know that.
On the way back to the house, all I can think about is sparring with Baz. I've watched him and Desmond workout, and let me tell you, my husband can throw a punch. Not that I didn't know that. But seeing it in real time is a thing of fucking beauty. He owes me a date in the boxing ring. He promised he'd keep my ass in shape, and I'm going to hold him to it. I smile. I was cleared for all physical activity, so a naked interlude in the shower afterward isn't off the table. Actually, I'm going to make it mandatory.
I zip up the back steps onto the deck and jump around like Rocky. That felt fucking good, even if my legs are about to give out like Jell-O.
Gun climbs the stairs with a smiley face of sweat on the front of his T-shirt.
"I'm requesting to be reassigned," he complains dryly.