24. Pasha
24
Jameson sidles up to me at the goodbye brunch the next morning, a mug of coffee in one hand and his daughter anchored to his hip with the other. “Welcome to the family, Pasha. Good to have you here.”
“Is it?” I ask.
He shrugs a shoulder and sips his coffee. “If she’s happy, I’m happy. And she’s still here, despite my offer to get her out, so?—”
“Hold on. What did you just say?”
Jameson is stone-faced. “I gave her an out. Car was ready to go, keys in my pocket, no questions asked.”
He must see the raging emotions in my face—I’m letting them show these days more than I ever used to, though fuck knows why—because he chuckles.
“Relax,” he advises. “She stayed. For you. Even when she saw those two monsters she calls parents in the crowd, she stayed. I hope you’ll remember that when things get tough. Because believe me, they will.”
I frown at him. “I’m not sure if I’m supposed to thank you or hit you.”
“Thank me, don’t thank me—frankly, I don’t care. What I care about, who I care about, is my family. Daphne is my sister. I protect my sister. I think you can empathize with that, yeah?”
Honestly, I can. I clap a hand on his shoulder, which I think surprises him, but he doesn’t pull away. “Thanks, Jameson. Really. You know, I could really use a man like you in the family business.”
Jameson barks a laugh and shakes his head. “Thanks, but no thanks. I like my nine-to-five where I don’t risk getting shot. Lower healthcare premiums, ya know?” He pats my shoulder as well. “But fuck with my sister, hurt her in any way, and I’ll make any one of your bulldogs look tame. Nam yasno?”
I whip my head to stare at him. When the fuck did he learn Russian?
My brother-in-law gives me the barest little smile. The kind that says he’s got more up his sleeve than he’ll ever reveal. To anyone.
My respect for him has just skyrocketed. I think we’ll be getting along just fine.
It’s strange. Alien, even, to fully comprehend everything my life has become. That I have become. Not only am I now Daphne’s husband, I’m a father. A brother-in-law. An uncle.
Someone people count on. Someone people trust.
Most alien of all: I’m someone people genuinely love.
With that increasingly uncomfortable thought, I make my way over to Daphne. She’s sitting with Taty halfway on her lap, halfway on Gentry’s, and he’s lightly stroking the downy hair of his baby cousin with tenderness and awe.
“She’s so little!” He looks up at me and gives me a toothy grin. “And so soft!”
“You were, too!” Daphne tells him with a kiss to his cheek. “So cute and tiny.”
Gentry scrunches his nose. “Nah. Not me.”
As everyone shares a laugh at his innocence, I can’t help but watch the way he holds Taty. He looks like Jameson. That stubborn chin.
What will Tatyanna look like when she’s a little older? What will she look like when she’s holding her baby brother or sister?
I damn near drop the glass in my hand.
I can’t believe I just considered—without hesitation—having another baby.
But watching Daphne with Gentry and Tatyanna only solidifies this idea in my mind until it becomes a goal in my heart. And my loins.
I want more kids with her.
I’m going to have more kids with her.
My hands sneak their way around her waist and I tuck her in closer to me. “I decided something,” I murmur in her ear.
“Oh?” She turns her head to squint at me. Her plump lips curve in a warm smile. “And what is that?”
“I’m going to put another baby in your belly.”
Her teeth scrape over her bottom lip just a little. Those lashes flutter again. But then she laughs and nudges me away. “You’re insane.”
“I’m serious.” I nip her lobe so she knows I’m telling the truth. “The second you’re good to go, I’m taking you to bed. You won’t be able to walk for a week. But when you do, you’ll have another baby. And I know you want it, too.”
She does. There’s no denying the slight wiggle of her hips against me, the sharp intake of breath.
Daphne composes herself, rolls her eyes, and laughs it off. I let her. We have guests, after all, so I really should behave myself.
Nothing is going to change my mind, though.
And she knows it.