Chapter 43
Chapter Forty-Three
W yatt
“I swear we’re being punished for the whole step-brother and sister illicit relationship thing,” Harper moans as one of the babies starts to wail from their basket.
It’s 3:14am and only five minutes since we settled the other twin back to sleep after a night-time feed. The babies are three weeks old and we haven’t slept for all of those twenty-one days.
I’m not complaining though. In fact, I wouldn’t change those twenty-one days for anything in the world.
I never thought I’d be a dad. I never imagined I’d be lucky enough to get that chance. Yet, here I am surrounded by the people I love, raising two more adorable little people. Even the things I thought I would loathe – like changing diapers, rocking them to sleep and endless cleaning – have been rewarding and magical. I can’t get over how perfect these tiny creatures are. I can’t get over the fact we made them while loving each other.
“You stay there,” I tell Harper, rolling over and kissing her mouth. With a bit of effort, I drag myself out of bed and walk the one pace from the side of the bed to the two baskets standing side by side in our bedroom. I peer down.
It’s Leo who is wailing – his face flushed in anger. But little Frida is awake too and staring up at me with those impossibly big eyes.
“Did your brother wake you up?” I ask her, as I scoop Leo up into my right arm. The screaming settles down a notch or two but he won’t be content until he’s fed. “Well, how about a Daddy cuddle while Mommy’s feeding him, huh?” I lift Frida up into my other arm and hold her against my chest as I pass Leo down to Harper. Our omega yawns as she snuggles our son into her chest and feeds him.
“Frida would probably just drift back to sleep in her basket,” Harper says, hands cradling the back of Leo’s head.
“Yes, but Daddy wants a cuddle.”
She smiles at me. “You’re such a softie. I thought you’d be the strict one, Wyatt, but these kids are going to walk all over you.”
“Yep,” I say, “I’d do anything for them.”
I kiss the top of Frida’s head. She’s already fast asleep again, making little snuffly sounds, her head burrowed under my chin.
Harper laughs sleepily. “They’re going to wrap you around their little fingers.” She peers down beside her, where Owen and Daxton are watching her, both awake now too. “I think they’re going to wrap all of you around their little fingers. Leo and Frida Stanton will be the most spoiled, overprotected kids in Rockview, possibly the world.”
“You bet,” Owen says. “I’m going to buy them every toy their heart ever desires.”
“And once Frida hits puberty,” Daxton adds, “I won’t be letting her anywhere near boys, let alone a pack of them.”
“In my experience, packs are the best,” Harper says. “If my daughter is an omega – or my son,” she points out, “I hope they find their forever pack like I did.”
“Me too,” I agree. “I can’t imagine how couples do this,” I say, gesturing to the babies, “sleep deprivation is real and brutal.”
“I’m so tired I think I actually saw a cat fly past the window today.” Harper giggles.
“I couldn’t remember my own name yesterday,” I confess.
“Then you’re really going to have to stop helping with the night-time feeds after the weekend,” Harper says. “Back to work on Monday and nobody wants a sleep-deprived surgeon.”
“I don’t want to go back to work,” I say.
“Wyatt, are you serious?” Daxton says in astonishment. “I’ve never known you miss a day of work – well, apart from that heat. Even after you had your appendix out, you were back at work the next day. You love being a surgeon. If you remember, it’s why we nearly lost Harper.”
“Yes, but I think I love being a dad and a partner even more.” I hesitate, not sure if I should say more. Usually I’d be reluctant. I’m not good at confessing my feelings. I tend to mess my words up. But tonight, I plunge right in. Maybe it’s the sleep deprivation, or the baby euphoria. I can’t keep the words in. “I think I’d enjoy being a husband as well.”
“A husband?” Harper says.
“Yes, I’d like for our relationship to be official.”
“We’re bonded, Wyatt,” Daxton says. “It doesn’t get much more official than that.”
“It does,” I insist. “I want for us to get married. That’s if Harper will have us.”
“I already have you,” she says, smiling at me. “But,” she adds, sensing I’m about to argue with her, “I’d like that too. I’d like to be married.”
“Marrying your step-brother,” Owen teases, “people will talk.”
“I don’t think they’ve ever stopped,” Harper says. “And besides, we owe it to them to provide something fresh to gossip about, don’t you think?”
Owen rolls over and kisses Harper’s shoulder. “I’m beginning to suspect you may actually like the attention.”
“Err, definitely not,” she smiles slyly, “but I wouldn’t mind seeing all their jealous faces as I walk smugly down the aisle towards the hottest men on the planet.”
“Is it even legal to marry your step-brother?” Owen teases.
Harper thumps him playfully on the arm.
“It is. I checked.”
“You checked, did you?”
“Uh huh.” Her cheeks pinken a little. “Just in case.”
“I already asked you to marry me,” Daxton points out, “and you said no.”
“I didn’t say no.”
“You didn’t say yes.”
“Daxton, you asked me in a hospital bathroom.”
“He’s always been a romantic.” Owen chuckles.
“I have my moments,” he says, a little grumpily.
“Sure,” Owen says with what I think is sarcasm.
“I do.”
“Uh huh,” Harper says, joining in with the teasing.
“Prove it,” Owen challenges him.
Daxton’s face flushes a smidgen – something I’ve never witnessed before. Then he shuffles out of the bed and stands there naked as the day he was born. He reaches for his cell phone and switches on the torch function.
“Erm, what are you doing?” Owen asks.
“Shut up, Owen,” Daxton mumbles, shining the light down onto his muscular groin. He’s covered in a web of inks here, scribbles, images and words that cascade down both his thighs. “Here,” he says, pointing to one of the small pictures tangled in among the others. I know my packmate intimately. We’ve spent a hell of a lot of time in bed together pleasuring our omega, but I’ve never properly examined these tattoos. My focus has been elsewhere.
“What is it?” I ask, squinting over the distance, my glasses somewhere on the bedside table.
“It’s … it’s a harp,” Owen says in astonishment, leaning closer to inspect the tiny tattoo.
“What?” Harper gasps. “Wh-wh-when did you get that?”
Daxton’s complexion flushes even further. “I don’t know, about ten years ago, I guess.”
“I … I never noticed,” Harper says. “It’s beautiful.”
“Just like you, Harper.”
I watch as our omega laughs, smiling at Daxton and Owen, her eyes bright and pretty, our son cradled in her arms. The dull lamplight catches in her fair hair making it golden and her skin radiant. I wish I could capture this moment, hold it in my mind and heart forever. If I had Harper’s talent maybe I’d even attempt to paint it.
It feels so special and I decide I want to make it even more so.
Still holding Frida in my arms, I sink down onto one knee beside the bed.
“Harper Hall?” I say and she turns her head to look at me, her smile growing even wider. “Will you marry us?”
She laughs again. “I was beginning to think you’d never ask.”
“Will you?”
“Yes,” she says simply. “Yes, I will.”