31. Chapter Thirty-one
Chapter Thirty-one
Roman
Adrian scanned the piles of wood on the ground, scratching his head. “Can’t you hire someone to put this together?”
I frowned at the instruction manual. “I can, but I won’t. Doesn’t sit right with me to hire out the construction of my son’s crib.”
“Oh, I see.” My brother nodded. “This is some misguided display of caveman masculinity.”
I chuffed. “How is it misguided to want to build my baby’s crib? I’ve built other furniture. I’m capable.”
He folded his arms over his chest. “I don’t doubt that, but this is probably the most important piece of furniture you’ll ever have. Seems hiring a professional would be the way to go.”
I put the manual down and picked up a rail. “Ade, think about it. No one’s going to care more than me that it’s put together right.” I nodded toward the other box in the room. “Put yourself to good use and get started on that changing table.”
With a groan, Adrian discarded his jacket on the floor, took the Swiss Army knife he always carried out of his pocket, and sliced through the tape, keeping the box closed.
The last couple weeks since Shira’s shower, we’d put together a few baby things at her house and had washed piles of impossibly small baby clothes. She hadn’t bought a crib yet, since she planned to use a bassinet, but I needed the nursery at my place finished and ready, and I’d called Adrian over to help. Not because I needed it but because we’d been off for a while and I wanted it nipped in the bud.
My brothers and I weren’t distant. That wasn’t how we did things. My life was changing, and putting myself in Ade’s shoes, I could see how that would be difficult to swallow. My plan was to bring him inside the change—to make him a part of it so it wasn’t so jarring.
“We picked a name,” I said.
His head jerked up. “Yeah?”
“Mmmhmm. He’s going to be called Jonah after Shira’s mom, Joanne.”
His brow furrowed. “So, she picked it.”
“She told me a name she liked, and I agreed. It’s nice, classic, and him sharing a name with Jonah Lomu is not a downside.” I frowned at him. “Why? You don’t like my kid’s name?”
He grunted and got back to work on the changing table. “It’s a fine name. Nice to name him after someone.”
“I thought so too. I have to come up with a middle name. Any ideas? We don’t exactly have too many family members worthy of giving him their name.”
“Hmmm. Let me think about it.”
We did our own thing side by side in silence. When Adrian said he wanted to think, he meant it. I could practically hear his mind churning.
“Weren’t you just telling me about Ryan Carson’s new charity?”
“Yeah…”
I didn’t know where he was going with this. Ryan Carson had been one of the stars of New Zealand’s national team, the All Blacks. Since he retired, he’d been doing a lot of good for underprivileged kids and helping other players manage their lives after retirement. I didn’t know the man personally, but I admired all he’d done, both on and off the field.
Adrian cocked his head. “Jonah Carson Wells has a ring to it, doesn’t it?”
I let that rattle around in my brain then said it aloud. “Jonah Carson Wells. JCW. Good initials.” I scrubbed my jaw, letting the name settle. “Huh. I think…yeah, I like it.”
He grinned. “Now watch him hate rugby.”
I chuckled. “That’s all right. He can like what he wants. Being named after good people doesn’t mean he has to go down the same path. I just want him to emulate the good.”
“He doesn’t need a name to do that. He’s got you as a dad, steering him where he needs to go. He’ll be good.”
“And Shira as a mom,” I added.
He grunted. “Right.”
Before I could list all the ways Shira was good, kind, forgiving, incredible, she appeared in the doorway.
“Hey. I knocked, but I assumed you were hammering and didn’t hear me—” She cut herself off when her eyes landed on Adrian. “Oh, I’m so sorry. I thought you were alone and wanted to bring you the cookies I just baked. I can come back.”
She was already turning by the time I climbed to my feet and closed the distance between us. I caught her hand, pulling her right back around.
“You’re not going anywhere, Goldie,” I rumbled. “You need to come try out the glider that got delivered this morning.”
She blinked up at me, giving me those fathomless eyes of hers I had to battle to keep on me.
“Are you sure?”
“I wouldn’t have stopped you from leaving if I didn’t want you here. Come supervise us. Make sure we don’t miss any pieces.”
I tugged her into the room with me. Adrian had stood, but he wasn’t exactly jumping with joy to greet her.
“Hey, Shira.” He tucked his hands in his jeans, his eyes locking in on her belly, which was hard to miss these days. “How are you feeling?”
Knowing what he was asking, she peered down at her bump then up at him. “Unwieldy, but otherwise really good.” She tried to slip her hand from mine—I suspected to tuck her hair—but I wasn’t letting her go. “Anything is better than the first trimester.”
He nodded but didn’t say another peep. Still, he kept looking at where my son was growing, the undeniable bloom of life springing forth from Shira’s center.
I had a hard time not staring at her bump too, so I got it.
Taking the box of cookies from her, I guided her over to the glider, which was really a cushy armchair that moved. “Sit down and give this a whirl. I think you’re going to like it, baby.”
Her butt hit the plush seat, and Shira sighed, letting her head loll against the cushion. “Wow,” she sighed. “If this doesn’t put Beanie to sleep, he’s superhuman. I’m almost ready to knock out, and I just sat down.”
“Then knock out,” I told her. “Ade and I are doing our manly duty and building things.”
Her giggle was light as air. “I hope manly duty includes changing lots of diapers in a few weeks.”
Adrian saluted her. “I am willing to pitch in for liquids but draw the line at solids.”
She scrunched her nose and laughed. “Then what good are you?”
Bending down, I kissed the top of her head. She wouldn’t say it, but she was nervous. I saw it in the tightness of her mouth and the slight tremble of her hands. She was good at hiding it, but now that I knew what to look for, I couldn’t miss it. Despite that, she was trying, and watching her try to joke with Adrian made my chest feel like it’d been filled to overflowing with concrete—heavy and stuffed and difficult to take a full breath.
“I helped Rome with the…uh, baby’s middle name,” Adrian informed her. “So, there’s that.”
Shira’s gaze flashed to me. “You picked a middle name?”
“Just before you showed up. But you have full veto power.”
“Tell me.”
“Jonah Carson Wells. Ade suggested it. Carson comes from Ryan Carson, a rugby player from New Zealand. On top of a stellar career, he runs a charity for underprivileged kids—”
She raised a hand. “Sold. I’m sold. Jonah Carson.” Her smile grew wide as she mouthed the name. “I guess we have a theme, huh? I like themes. Elliot and Kit named their kids after characters from Little Women —ours will be rugby.”
She didn’t mean “ours” as in plural children, but as soon as she’d said it, I imagined getting her pregnant again—this time on purpose—and my dick jerked. I liked the sound of that way too fucking much. It’d make sense for us to have more kids together. She’d described herself as a “lonely only,” and I wanted my boy to have siblings. We’d have to talk about it, but my skittish girl would run for the hills if I brought it up now. First, we’d have this baby, then we’d work on having more.
“Guess we have a theme,” I agreed.
Adrian cleared his throat. “Glad you like it.”
She smiled softly at him, but the tightness had reappeared around her mouth. “I do. Thank you, Adrian.”
He offered her a small smile. “I’m honored I could be a part of choosing my nephew’s name. It means a lot.”
“One day, you’ll have to tell him how you and his daddy came up with it,” she replied.
“Yeah.” He looked down at his feet. “Wild he’s going to be here for me to tell him things like that.”
“Wild,” she agreed.
Ade and I exchanged a long glance. He was trying, and Shira was too. It made me optimistic this breach could be closed and they would become friends. If nothing else, Ade would learn not to be an asshole around her. That would never happen again.
It didn’t take long for Shira to nod off. Seeing her sleeping in this nursery, my heart thumped in irregular beats. Maybe I’d convince her to stay here with the baby and rock him to sleep in that chair.
“What the hell is this?” Adrian hissed.
Jerking out of my thoughts, I whirled around to find my brother frantically wiping his tongue; one of Shira’s cookies crumbled beside him. I’d put the box down without warning him not to eat them. Fatal error in judgment.
“You ate one of her cookies?” I asked.
His eyes went round with indignation. “Those aren’t cookies. Those are an abomination.”
I laughed as quietly as possible. “She’s a shit cook, but she’s learning. I think she’s getting better.”
He poked his finger at the cookie. “ This is better? There’s so much ginger it scalded my tongue. I’m not going to be able to taste anything else for days. You can’t let her feed this to the baby. His taste buds are going to get all screwed up,” he whispered.
“She mentioned food tastes weird to her because of the pregnancy. I’m counting on her getting back to normal after she has him. If worse comes to worse, I’ll cook all our meals.”
He stared at me for a drawn-out moment. “You would, wouldn’t you?”
I glanced at Shira, curled up in my chair, cradling our son inside her with her arms around him, then back to my brother.
“For my son and her? Yeah, I would.”
He nodded, taking that in at the same time I did. It was big, but it was true. There wasn’t much I wouldn’t do for the two of them. Shira and Jonah.