Mary had already figured out what to do. Abby sucked in a breath between her teeth at that initial sting of her baby latching on, then any pain she might have felt disappeared as she watched the pulling motion of Mary’s cheeks. Matt looked on, softly caressing Mary’s downy head.
“That’s the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen,” he said softly.
Abby agreed, but so was the man beside her. While Matt marveled over the baby, she marveled over him. This big tough man brought to tears over a baby. An elite soldier, the best of the best, and he was giving it up for her.
Never in her life had she known it was possible to love someone so much. To want and need someone so much. But with deep love came deep risk. He’d been granted four weeks of leave, which would take him to the end of the year, then he’d receive an honorable discharge, and his life in the military would be over. He’d renovate and build houses, his feet never leaving the ground, his body never doing all the impossible things she knew it was trained to do.
But the papers weren’t signed yet and leaves could be called in. She pushed hard against the faint, lingering insecurities, determined not to let anything overshadow this moment.
Abby turned her head, her mouth finding his. Matt’s hand moved from the baby to cup the back of her head, and he kissed her with long, drugging strokes.
“I love you.” Matt’s words were whispered against her lips, her cheek, her hair.
She let her head fall back and closed her eyes, suddenly exhausted. “I love you too.”
Chapter 36
A ten-foot evergreen dominated the family room. They’d picked it out together, all seven of them, an adventure Abby wouldn’t forget, and it would forever be one of the happiest days of her life. The pine scent of the tree lot, the kids bundled and rosy cheeked, Matt sexy and strong in a pullover that hugged his wide chest as he wrangled the monster on top of the car.
Their first tree. First Christmas Eve. First Christmas morning. And there was no rush, no pressure, none of the tainted feelings that came when you feared something was the last.
The tree stood tall, covered in lights, popcorn strings, and kid-made ornaments. And hanging front and center was a porcelain heart, shaped from the abstract bodies of a man and woman. “Our First Christmas” was scrolled across the top. On the back, “The first of many. Love, Matt.” It symbolized more than his love. It was a hanging reminder of their future, and for the first time she wasn’t waiting for a good thing to end.
She’d known Matt was a big kid at heart when he’d belted out the impressive Chewbacca impression, but at Christmas…the man was practically Saint Nick himself. Like he’d been storing up being a dad all these years. He snuck up to the attic every chance he got, putting dollhouses and race car tracks together. And he’d gone overboard on presents for all of them, especially her, knowing she’d never had much of a Christmas as a child.
“Those look good.” Matt’s arms came around her as she stood at the counter, placing crab rolls on a plate.
She leaned into him, relishing the feeling of being held by the man she loved. His heat, his hands, his breath on her neck. “They’re for the party.”
“You know how my brothers eat. If I don’t get one now I might not at all.” He moved his hands lower across her flattening middle. “Mmm. You feel so good,” he murmured against her neck and kissed the spot he knew drove her crazy. “You felt good before, but now…How many weeks did the doctor say?”
Her hands stilled on the plate. It was hard to think when Matt’s lips were…anywhere. “Six.” She tilted her head to the side and sighed at the feel of his lips and the knowledge they still had two more weeks to go.
“Hey,” she protested when he reached around her and snatched two appetizers.
“Babe, that’s diversionary tactics 101. Don’t take your eyes off the target.” He backed away, laughing as he avoided her hand. “I’ll look in on Mary before I leave.”
“You’ve already checked on her three times in the last half hour.”
“I know, but I’m ready for her to wake up. She sleeps too much.”
Two hundred forty pounds of Matt cuddling almost seven pounds of baby was a sight. He was completely enthralled with his tiny new daughter, couldn’t get enough of her kitten sounds or miniature fingernails. Every time Abby saw him walking around with a flowered burp cloth on his shoulder her heart expanded to near bursting.
He’d insisted from day one that he could change a diaper, saying if he could wire together explosives, he could figure out those little tabs. He’d been right.