Immoral by Nicole Dykes
Things aren’t100 percent perfect. I mean, are they ever?
But they’re as close to perfect as I can imagine. Kristy is a perfect, happy baby. But she has her own personality, and she fusses, letting us know when she isn’t pleased with her dads. And yeah—she’s going to be spoiled as hell, but we don’t care.
“Fuck. I’ll get her,” Grady grumbles from his side of the bed, but I laugh him off.
“I’ll get her. It was your turn last time.”
It’s the middle of the day anyway, and we were trying to do what they say and nap when the baby is napping.
“Nah, you got her three times before that.”
He climbs out of bed, wearing only a pair of gray joggers that hug his ass perfectly and still turn me the fuck on even sleep-deprived and after nearly four years together.
There’s nothing he can do to turn me off.
But when he holds our two-month-old baby to his bare chest, bouncing her and soothing her?
Yeah. Nothing fucking hotter in this universe.
I don’t miss baseball as much as I thought I would. I figure in a few years, if I do miss it, maybe I’ll go into sports broadcasting or something sports-related. But I wouldn’t mind having a few more Kristys either. Of course, I’m pretty sure Jenny is out.
She loves being Aunt Jenny, but she told me, and I quote, “I’m not pushing anything else out of my vagina.” After that horrible image, Waylon, Grady, and I decided we were okay with that.
We can get another surrogate who won’t talk about all the gory details.
But we love Jenny. She’s not only my manager but has become one of our best friends, and we can never repay her for giving us Kristy.
“I think she’s hungry,” Grady says, laying her in my arms as he goes to heat a bottle.
I smile when I see a text from my mom, telling me they got their flight confirmation. I text her back, telling her we can’t wait and send her a quick baby pic to tide her over.
Kristy sucks on my finger as she waits somewhat patiently for Grady to get back. When he does, he takes her and moves to the rocking chair in the corner to feed our girl.
“Mom and Dad will be here next Wednesday.”
“Good.” He smiles, and it’s real. My parents attended our wedding and now seem to be pretty damn open and supportive of our marriage. My mom especially is excited about her beautiful granddaughter and never lectures us. She refers to Grady as my husband, as she should, and for now, all is right in the world.
Grady’s father has openly spewed hatred toward us, but we just ignore and block him. Because no one deserves that kind of toxicity in their lives. That’s what the block button is for, and yeah, you can use it in real-life.
No love lost there.
And thankfully, we have more than enough love in this house to make up for it. Our kids are going to grow up in a house full of love and acceptance where nothing else is tolerated.
And it’s a beautiful thing.
The End
