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I’m Yours, Baby(28)

By:Fiona Davenport






Epilogue


Aspen


Walking just inside the foyer of our home, I paused to listen to the sound of Carter’s giggles, mingled with Willow’s cooing noises, and Weston’s deep laughter. It was one of my favorite things to hear—my family’s happiness. Knowing how easily it could have all been taken from me by that crazy woman who’d stalked me in her attempt to have Weston for herself had made me value them even more.

Lifting a finger to my lips to let Macy know I wanted us to be as quiet as possible, I set my purse and shopping bags onto the side table and followed the noise to the living room, where we found them sprawled on the floor.

Carter was scooting around the floor on the ride-on giraffe toy his Auntie Jenna had given him last week for his first birthday. It was by far his favorite gift, which had prompted Weston to go out looking for something to top his sister’s present. The floppy-eared, brown puppy chewing on a bunny-shaped, squeaky toy under the coffee table had been his solution. Carter had squealed with joy when he’d brought the puppy home, waking up his baby sister who hadn’t seemed too impressed with Jazz when he’d licked her face and made her cry.

My gaze swept across the room to land on Willow. My sweet three-month-old baby girl was happily batting away at the toys hanging from her baby gym play mat. Weston had gotten his way, knocking me up again as soon as he’d swept back into my life. We’d only been in our new home for a couple weeks before morning sickness had kicked in and I’d finally realized what I hadn’t realized in the flurry of the move—I’d missed my period.

My second pregnancy had gone much more smoothly than the first, largely due to the fact that Weston wouldn’t have had it any other way. He’d been with me every step of the way, going to all my doctor’s appointments and reading just about every single pregnancy book that had been published in the past decade. He’d insisted we take Lamaze classes all over again since he’d missed it the first time around. And he’d held my hand without complaint throughout the ten hours of labor it took to give birth to our baby girl.

“It’s a good thing he’s tall,” Macy whispered behind me. “Or else he wouldn’t be able to play with both of them at the same time like that.”

I laughed lightly at the sight of Weston sprawled between our children, flicking at the teddy bear on Willow’s gym with one hand and using his other arm as a gate each time Carter circled around. His green eyes were shining with happiness when he glanced up and found us standing there staring at him. He rose to his feet with coiled grace and strode towards me to pull me into his body and capture my mouth with his own.

“Be gentle with her,” Macy warned. “She had a tough time this afternoon.”

Weston lifted his head and looked at my best friend like she was crazy. “Since when is shopping tough?”

“Shopping,” Macy drawled sarcastically. “Right.”

“Macy!” I hissed, elbowing her in the side.

“As much as I’d love to stay and see how this all shakes out, I’d better run since I’ve got a hot date tonight.”

“Anyone I need to look into?” Weston asked, making me melt into him even more. I loved that my best friend and husband had grown into friends, once Macy had forgiven him for the misunderstanding which had left me alone for a year.

“Nah,” she laughed. “It’s nothing serious. Just a first date, but I’ll definitely take you up on it if the need ever arises. You’re way better than the usual internet searches a girl usually has to resort to using.”

She twirled away, offering us a wave over her shoulder as she headed out the way we’d come in.

“Your best friend’s a nut.”

“That she is,” I agreed.

“But what did she mean about you having a tough time today?” he asked worriedly, taking hold of my shoulders and setting me away from him so he could look me up and down.

“About that,” I sighed, twisting to the side and lifting my hair up. I knew the moment he caught sight of the bandage that had been hiding underneath. He tensed up, a muscle ticked in his jaw, and I swore I felt his anger fill the room.

“How the hell did you get hurt?”

“It’s not an injury,” I reassured him. “Nobody hurt me. Well, not any more than I asked them to.”

“What the fuck does that mean?” he growled.

“It’ll be easier to show you than to explain. Can you help me with the bandage?”

His fingers were extra gentle as he peeled back the tape and lifted up an edge on the white gauze. “Aspen,” he groaned. “You went and got a tattoo without me?”