Protector Daddy by Taryn Quinn
TWENTY-TWO
The next fewweeks went by in a blur.
Between working Dispatch and at the bakery—and suffering through Presley’s first cold which subsequently went from Tabitha to my brother to me and then to half the people we worked with at both locations—and learning how to be a couple, it felt as if we were always running. But even in the midst of chaos, the quiet cozy moments where we curled up on the couch with Boomer between us to watch a movie were my favorites.
When I walked into Christian’s home gym while he was working out on his Pilates machine to stretch his very fine back muscles or when I caught a glimpse of him doing laps in the pool were also very special occasions. I was tempted to snap pictures for my personal enjoyment.
I didn’t throw up again. We didn’t talk about possible babies or peeing on sticks. We just lived our lives in this kind of limbo, trying not to assume anything or worry either way. The time was passing fast enough.
Once, Christian and I babysat for Brady and Tabitha while Presley was at the tail end of her cold. If I hadn’t been in love with the man beforehand, watching him cradle my baby niece so carefully in his arms would’ve done it.
Add in the bonus of walking in on him in her nursery singing her a lullaby, and my ovaries basically landed in his lap.
If I hadn’t been sure about the whole baby thing at first, things had changed. Maybe it wasn’t a liberated view, but I wanted to give Christian a baby. To my way of thinking, the guy deserved one after being denied Reagan for so long.
Not that it could make up for the years he’d missed with his daughter. Nothing could.
Being a parent wasn’t all fun and games. I think he already understood that from seeing Moose, Travis, and Brady with their kids and just in general. But he wanted a chance to do it from the beginning, and I wanted to be the one to give that to him.
Hopefully, we wouldn’t have to wait too long.
Things between us were going so well that in mid-December, when Christian said he was getting one of the bathrooms remodeled so we could stay at my place to avoid “construction debris”, I barely blinked. Boomer didn’t mind the change in location, either.
Sure, it was sort of a weird request, but he could’ve said he needed room to store his alpaca and I probably would’ve been onboard. Not like he didn’t have other bathrooms or that the workers would be working overnights—especially since Lucky and Moose and some of the rest of Gideon’s crew had families so they wouldn’t be burning the midnight oil—but if Christian said it was necessary, I was okay with it.
Besides, I didn’t know how much longer I’d have my apartment. It wasn’t as if I spent any time there anymore.
For dinner, I made us big bowls of chicken pineapple stir-fry served in my funky orange Fiestaware found at the local secondhand store. I gave Boomer a giant rawhide bone and shut him in the bedroom with Puppy TV so we could eat without hot breath on our legs or pleading looks.
We were eating companionable silence when I opened my big mouth.
“I’m going to miss this place.”
“Why?”
I blinked. “We spend every night together at your house. I don’t really need to keep this apartment. I sublet it from my sister-in-law, but Mickey is getting forced out of her apartment so she will probably just take it over.”
Christian forked up rice, chewing thoughtfully. “What does this place have that mine doesn’t?”
“Nothing.” I jerked a shoulder. “Your house is gorgeous and perfect. Huge. Plenty of room to grow.”
“Yet you still like this one better?”
“Not better. Of course not. Just this was my first place of my own. I moved right from my mom’s house to here and then I’d barely finished unpacking before I hooked up with you. Of course, we’d spend more time over there than here. Your house is a dream.”
Christian pushed the chopped carrots around in his bowl. “Do you think you missed out on stuff? Didn’t get to experience enough of your youth?” He speared a carrot, took a bite, then dumped it back in his bowl and went for more rice and chicken. “I’m sure Mickey is always telling you that.”
“Actually, she’s not. She knows I’m happy and settled.”
“Just as long as you didn’t settle.”
“I didn’t mean it that way. I meant settled in the good way, Christian. Remember all I told you about wanting a family?”
“I do. Just the timetable has been faster than you expected.”
“Or you expected. Or that a lot of people in the Cove expected yet the couples I know make it work because they love each other.”
“Yeah.” Except he was back to pushing around the food he’d been scarfing down until we landed on this stupid topic.
Sometimes being in love was a thorny field to navigate.
“When I moved in here, I was so excited to be on my own finally. Felt as if I’d waited forever and now I could live however I want. Have wild parties. Move the furniture any crazy way I wanted.”
“How many parties did you have?”
I laughed, shaking my head. “None.”
“See, don’t you regret it?”
“That I didn’t have parties? No. I’m not a partier at heart. I just wanted to have the option.” I reached across the counter to lace my fingers with his. “We could have parties sometime, right?”
Not that my Christian was exactly known for being the partying sort of guy. But I appreciated him just as he was.
He was opening up more lately too. My brothers were actually hanging out with him now. Voluntarily and not requiring bribes.
“Sure. Don’t know how wild though with the baby. If we have the baby.”
His pensive expression was killing me. Waiting to find out if I was really pregnant was beginning to wear on both of us, but I didn’t want to test again too early. Even expecting that negative result, seeing that word had been a blow. I really didn’t want to see it again if I didn’t have to.
Unless I actually wasn’t pregnant, and then we’d just go from there.
I swallowed hard. “I’d rather have a baby than the wild party, truth be told. Though Van and Mav went to a club the other night in Syracuse, and Van danced until at least ten.”
Christian snorted. “Party animals.”
“She said it wore her out. But she slept right away afterwards. Insomnia be gone.” I rubbed his knuckles then went back to eating. He might have too many heavy thoughts to plow through his dinner, but I was not similarly afflicted.
One thing that made me suspect I really was knocked up—I was hungry 24/7. The other night I’d had two pieces of chocolate cake for dessert, and my waistline was expanding accordingly. And I didn’t even care. I was actually excited to be gaining weight.
I was possibly out of my mind.
“What are you smiling about?”
“I gained three pounds this week.”
“And you’re happy about that?”
“Yeah. I keep pulling up my shirt to see.”
“Come here.”
Reluctantly, I stopped eating and circled the counter as he shifted to face me. I stopped between his legs and he rested his big hands on my hips, staring expectantly at my belly as if it was a present he was waiting to unwrap. I lifted my shirt and took a quick peek myself.
Nada yet.
“I can’t see anything.”
“What are you expecting, a welcome sign?”
He chuckled. “No. That should be a little lower.”
I dropped my shirt and sifted my fingers through his soft, thick hair. He’d been letting it grow a little, and I didn’t have any problem with having more to run my hands through. “I love your house. I love you. It’s just bittersweet that the apartment I longed for ended up being just a resting place on my way to better. On my way to you. But I don’t regret a damn thing, Christian. I’m so grateful I went to interview with you that day.”
“I just want to make sure you’re happy. That you aren’t missing out in any way. You had other plans.”
“Yeah, and now some of those plans we’ll do together. Are you missing out on anything being with me?”
“Of course not.”
“Then why do you think the reverse might be true? Because I’m younger? That matters not one whit. It just means you had to wait longer for what I’m lucky enough to experience now.”
He cupped my cheek. “Honey.”
“Let’s go buy some pregnancy tests, okay?”
“We don’t have to do that now. It’s snowing.”
“It’s December in New York. That happens often.” I stepped away from him and headed over to the coat closet to grab our jackets and scarves.
“Wait, are you sure?” He caught my arm after I tugged on my gloves. “I know you wanted to make sure we gave the baby enough time to cook.”
“Yeah, but it’s heading toward seven weeks. Should be enough time. My jeans say it is. Unless I really have been eating too much.” I held up a hand. “Don’t answer that.”
“Every ounce of you is gorgeous.” He nuzzled my neck. “I can’t wait to see you grow and change. I mean, if it’s going to happen. If not, that’s fine too.”
I kissed him and tipped my forehead to his. “We just have to know. We’ll make ourselves crazy. Or crazier.”
He blew out a warm breath against my lips. “Yeah. You’re right. Better just to know.”
An hour later, three tests were lined on the sink. “Just time five minutes.”
“On it.”
When the alarm sounded on his phone, we both startled then looked at each other and laughed. We were both ridiculous. Not that ridiculous since our whole lives could change from this one not so little test.
“If it’s not, we can try again immediately.”
“We don’t have to rush into it.”
I grabbed his shirt to pull myself up off the side of the bathtub. He was so flustered he’d forgot to help me up, and he never forgot his manners.. “Fine, we can wait a week. Maybe two. Or can make it a Christmas bonus. But we both want this so unless you want to make sure you won’t get sick of me first—”
“Honey, I’m going to marry you. I won’t get sick of you.” He coughed. “If you say yes I mean. When I properly ask.”
“The man can learn.” I patted his cheek. “Don’t worry. I have it on good authority a yes is all but guaranteed. Now we gotta look.” I grabbed the first test and held it out to him, covering my eyes with my other hand. “You look.”
His hand shook as he took it from me. “Honey, look.”
I knew even before I opened my eyes. His husky tone told me everything I needed to know.
I rushed into his arms and he caught me, still clutching the stick as if it was his prized possession. And for this moment, it was for both of us.
“Guess we should set up that family get-together with my parents, huh,” I said shakily.
“Guess so. Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For giving me a family. For making sure I know you want me in yours.”
Grinning, I traced my fingertip over his smile. “Clarify which yours we’re talking about here. Because we could go the dirty way or…”
“Dirty always. But your family.”
“Our family. We started building it right away.”
He released a shuddering breath. “Yeah.”
“Oh, shit, I have something for you. Wait here.” I left him bewildered in the bathroom to run into the living room to snag my yarn project bag. I’d just finished my special surprise for him two nights ago.
Good timing.
I rushed back into the bathroom to see him holding all three sticks as if he didn’t believe it could be true. The dazed smile he wore made my heart squeeze so hard I was nearly dizzy.
In the very best way.
“Close your eyes,” I commanded.
He did as I asked, setting the tests in a paper cup.
“Okay, now open them.”
He stared at the baby onesie I held in bright green with the phrase Daddy’s Little Monster in blue embroidered across the front.
Instead of replying, he shut his eyes again, but not before I glimpsed the wash of tears in his steely blue eyes.
Which instantly made my own fill.
He reached out and grabbed my hand, crushing me to his chest and the onesie between us. “I love you,” he said thickly. “Am I saying that too much?”
“Absolutely not.” I covered his mouth with mine. “And ditto.”
“We have to tell Reagan.”
“Yeah.” I moved back and bit my lip. “We have to make it clear she still comes first. So she doesn’t feel left out.”
“You’re right.” He grabbed his phone and snapped a picture of the onesie before texting it to Reagan. I peeked over his shoulder at what he wrote.
How do you feel about being a big sister?
Omg, yes! That’s so amazing. I’m going to be the best big sister.
Of course you are.
Especially since the baby is already a Lady Gaga fan. Has good taste. ;)
Huh?
Lady Gaga calls her fans Little Monsters. Didn’t you know that?
Still peeking over Christian’s shoulder, I laughed. “Good thing I like Gaga.”
Christian reached back to hook his fingers in my jeans pocket. “And good thing I adore you.”
A couple minutes later, a call came through from the Chief, inviting us to meet baby Caden in a couple days. “Just a head’s up, invitations will be going out soon. We’re going to do our wedding over the summer and the reception at my brother Mason’s restaurant The Mason Jar. He’ll be coming to see the baby with you guys too.”
Christian put the call on speaker so I could squeal into the phone. “We’re so excited for you guys.”
“Thanks.” Jared sounded positively thrilled. “It’s about time, right? You two should move faster than the glacial pace we did.”
“Uh, we have no problem with that,” I said jauntily. “Considering the way we got together.”
Christian shot me a look, but Jared only laughed.
“That’s true.”
“Oh, and this is still a secret, I think, since we just found out, but considering your job brought us together you should know first. We’re having a baby.” I kissed Christian’s cheek as he reeled. “But you didn’t hear that from me.”
“Congratulations! Too bad there wasn’t time for a did they have sex poll.”
“Yeah, we already discussed that with Bonnie. Too bad,” Christian muttered.
“Hey, we should do a poll on the baby’s sex.”
“Go to it. Just know he or she is already a Lady Gaga fan.” I swallowed a laugh as Christian’s eyebrows drew together.
Teasing him was basically my favorite thing.
“Um, okay? Well, in any case, happy for you guys. Another CCPD baby on the way.”
We clicked off and grinned at each other like fools. “Damn straight.”