“How was I supposed to know she would think it’s okay to jump off the top bunk?”
“Because she’s crazy and a thrill seeker. I wouldn’t be surprised if she goes skydiving and bungee jumping when she gets older.”
“Stop talking,” he says, making me laugh.
“It’s true, and this guy is going to be just as rambunctious, judging by the way he plays soccer with my bladder.”
“At least he’s stopped making you sick.”
That’s true. The first four months of my pregnancy were spent in the bathroom. Most days, I couldn’t even make it to work because of how sick I was.
“How long do we have before Hope gets off the school bus?” he asks, changing the subject.
Looking around his shoulder at the clock on the stove, I smile. “Long enough for me to take advantage of you,” I tell him, placing my hands on the button of his jeans.
“You’re just going to use me?” He grins.
“Don’t worry. I promise you’ll enjoy it,” I tell him as his hand wraps into my hair and his mouth lands on mine. Lifting me carefully to the countertop, he slides my maternity dress up around my hips and runs a finger over my clit.
“You’re swollen and wet baby.”
“I know.” I swallow, letting my head fall back as his fingers slip inside me.
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“Lean back on your hands and spread your legs,” he commands, and I place my hands behind me on the counter and spread my legs as he unhooks his jeans then pulls down the top of my dress, exposing my breasts, which are now super sensitive.
“I love seeing you pregnant,” he says as his eyes darken further.
“Jax,” I breathe as his fingers slide through my folds once more then the head of his cock lines up and he slowly pushes deep inside of me.
“Fuck you’re so fucking hot,” he growls, leaning forward, pulling my breast into his mouth, which sends me over into a sudden orgasm that has me screaming his name and wrapping my legs tightly around him. “Jesus, baby.” He rams into me three more time, planting himself deep and coming.
Trying to catch my breath, I lie back against the counter then moan as he pulls out and helps me sit up.
“Go lay down, baby,” he says, holding my face gently between his hands. “I’ll take Chip and Pancake with me to the bus stop to pick up Hope.”
“Are you sure?”
“I know you haven’t been sleeping well,” he says running his fingers under my eyes.
“That’s your son’s fault,” I point out, making him smile as his hands move to hold my stomach.
“Not much longer and he’ll be here, and I can help you when he’s trying to keep you up.”
“I can’t wait to meet him,” I say, placing my hands over his.
“Hope is still annoyed he’s a boy.” He smiles and I laugh.
“She’ll get use to it eventually.”
*
Jax
There are a few times in my life I can look back on and know exactly what Jules was talking about: Every time my dad gave me a pat on the back or a word of advice when I needed it. The moment Lilly looked at me the way a mother looks at her son, with pride in her eyes. The first time I saw Ellie and knew I was seeing my future when I looked at her. The day Hope called me Daddy, and the day I signed her adoption papers.
And then today, the day my son was born and took his first breath.
Lifting Jasper from his sleeper, I pull down the edge of the blanket Ellie wrapped him tightly in, turning him into a baby burrito, as Hope had joked, and run my finger over his chin. I can’t believe I helped create this tiny human, that Ellie and I made something so perfect. He has his mom’s cheeks, but he is all me. Bringing him up to my chest, I press a kiss to his forehead and breathe him in. Walking him across the room to where his mom and sister are talking quietly, I sit on the side of the hospital bed, pressing a kiss to the top of his head before placing him in Ellie’s arms. I watch her face soften as Hope leans in to kiss his cheek, giving me one more pause, one more beautiful moment.
*
Five years later
“Mom, Dad, I demand a sister!” Hope screams at the top of her lungs from somewhere in the house as Ellie looks at me from across the kitchen table.
“One more?” I ask, grinning, and Ellie rolls her eyes.
“We are not having any more babies. I still don’t quite know how I ended up with the last one,” she mutters, and I look at Toby, who is sitting in his highchair, shoving noodles into his mouth…or attempting to, anyways. “Not that I would change him for the world, but still.” She smiles at him, running her finger over his chubby cheek, gaining a one-toothed smile from him.