TAMSIN
Reed finally went down in the middle of the second book.
He fought sleep on the first one like he always did, and then his eyes drifted shut, and he was out.
Our boy thought sleep was overrated and never wanted to miss out on anything.
He’d been like that as a newborn just home from the hospital, and I’d been sneaking in naps whenever I could for the past two years.
Gavin stood in the hallway with his shoulder on the wall and watched me ease the door shut. “Monitor?”
I held up the receiver and showed him the display screen with the live video feed from the camera aimed at his crib.
“Porch,” he murmured, sliding his palm against my lower back to walk me outside.
The rocking chairs were the same ones my grandparents had used before they passed away and left me the house. Gavin had sanded the arms last spring, and I’d picked out new cushions that were cushy enough I could sit out here for hours if I wanted.
My feet ended up in his lap just like always. Then he pressed a mug into my hands.
I took a sip and smiled. “Mmm, mint.”
“Made sure we’re stocked up since you’ve been in the mood for it lately.”
He was always doing little things like that to let me know he cared. Not much escaped his notice, something many people missed because of his easygoing demeanor.
“Thank you.”
He wrapped one hand around my ankle and left it there. “You’re welcome, pretty girl.”
The yard was dark past the reach of the porch light. Somewhere down the county road, a vehicle went by and kept going.
I was exactly where I wanted to be. On the porch my grandfather had built for the woman he intended to grow old with, sitting next to the man who’d made himself at home here from the very first day.
It was easy to picture us fifty years from now, spending our night the same way with one of our grandchildren down for the night. Gray in his dark hair, wrinkles around his eyes from smiling so much.
“You good?”
“I’m incredible.” I tilted my head back to stare at the trim I’d refused to let him drill into for the security system. “Just thinking about how happy I am to grow old in this house I love with you and the family we’re building.”
His hand left my ankle and settled over the small curve of my stomach where our baby rested, due in six months. “We keep this up, we’re gonna run out of rooms.”
“There’s always the office.”
He shook his head with a grin. “That’s my office.”
“Only if by office you mean a room with a desk you don’t use,” I teased, rolling my eyes.
“You might find me in there more as the house fills up.” He rubbed my belly. “Reed’s already talking about getting another baby brother or sister after this one is born. It’ll be hard to find quiet anywhere else.”
“We wouldn’t want to disappoint our boy.”
He tugged my chair closer until my knees bumped his.
Then he leaned forward to claim my mouth in a deep kiss, not caring if any of our neighbors walked by and saw us.
My husband had no problem with public displays of affection.
Sometimes I thought he liked them because they warned other guys off, not that he ever had to worry about me looking at another man.
I was as deeply in love with Gavin as I’d been back when we first fell for each other.
The monitor crackled, and an indignant cry followed. I started to stand, but Gavin squeezed my hip. “Stay. I’ve got him.”
He was up and inside before I could think about protesting. So I sat in the dark with the monitor on my lap and listened.
“Hey, buddy.” He used the soft tone that was reserved for our son. “You’re okay. Daddy’s here.”
There was a rustle, then Reed gave another little cry.
“Yeah, I know. Sleep is your enemy. But I promise you’re not gonna miss anything tonight.”
I heard the creak of the rocking recliner in the corner of Reed’s room.
“Mommy’s on the porch. You’re safe. Go on back down.”
There was the smallest sigh, then quiet. Gavin would stay there as long as it took to make sure our boy went back down. He was so patient with Reed. I couldn’t wait to give him another baby who’d grow up with the best daddy in the world.