He took a step toward me, sliding a hand behind my back. “Sweetheart, I’m going to need you to hear me when I tell you you’re stunning, because I’m just realizing by the look in your eyes that you might not believe me.”
I looked away, but he gently turned me back to him. “I’m serious, Grace-alicious, when are you going to realize that I went from being wrapped up in you to wrapped up in us? This little family of ours? I’m all in. There is nowhere I’d rather be.”
Yep, I was going to cry and there would be no point in the pictures if I looked like a member of the band KISS. Instead of being a mature adult and responding to his words, I switched topics.
“We need to hurry; Mia doesn’t have any socks on,” I pointed out.
Aidan ducked until his lips were at my ear. “I’ll let you get away with that subject change now, sweetheart, but we will be talking later.” He pressed a kiss to my neck before continuing. “And no worries on her precious little toes because, fair warning, my mom has jacked up the heat inside, so we are practically living on a tropical island in there.”
“Got it, kids,” Sophia called, bringing me back to the present. “Ready?”
I turned my head toward Sophia while I felt Aidan move so that he was kissing my temple, and Mia looked at the camera and I could feel her happy coo as she posed like the model she was.
Wrapped up in us… I guess I could lean into that even if it was romance-book-level schmoopy. But we were going to talk more later? Would that mean just talking or something more? Heck, which did I even want?
Aidan’s hand slid lower, landing on my butt as he gave it a squeeze. I felt a flutter of excitement that had lain dormant for too long. Mmmm. Well, I guess that answered that. Oh boy.
Chapter8
Nothing Compares
Aidan
There was the normal flurry of activity around the “witching hour,” as Grace liked to call it. From about four in the afternoon until around seven in the evening, it was all hands on deck. Whether it was my coming home from work in the first weeks to months of Mia’s life or now, when it was Grace arriving, this was the time when dinner got prepped, some quick playtime happened, and then we ate, Mia got bathed, and bedtime routines began. In other words, mass chaos, and Mia was often fussy for it, especially in the beginning.
Tonight was even more so. After pictures on the porch, Mia had been grumpier than usual. Nothing seemed to make her happy other than being held. After a few minutes, Grace had noticed Mia’s cheeks were rosy and Mom had noticed the soaked bib. Sure enough, Grace checked out her gums and our little peanut had a tooth working on coming in soon. I thought three months might be early, but Mom assured us that both Declan and I had our first tooth around now. Tylenol before bed and nursing should help her relax.
Which simply meant that Grace, as always, had more to do than me or even my mom because when Grace was home, she wanted to nurse and not pump. Even now, after working a full day, she’d need to feed Mia—especially when our little girl was out of sorts.
I got it, I truly did. Mia had lost weight because she’d been born before Grace’s milk really came in, and that had stressed Grace out… big time. Mia had been a little jaundiced as well, and I felt like Grace had taken far too much responsibility for getting little Mia back on track. The nurses assured us that she’d be fine, and she had been. But on the journey to Mia being “fine,” I could see that Grace was blaming herself for anything that was wrong with our baby, and I hadn’t been able to do anything about it.
After it was said and done, the only thing I’d been able to do was support my wife and reassure her that all was well. A result, Grace was adamant that she needed to stick to her nursing schedule even now. I loved that she enjoyed it—nursing was truly a special bond between Grace and Mia—but sometimes I wondered if it was taking too much from her. I mean, she’d already had to carry our baby for forty weeks and deal with all the impact on her body from that, but now she couldn’t even go through a five-hour stretch without pumping, even if she wasn’t with Mia.
I’d known it wasn’t like our lives would go back to “normal” after Mia’s birth. We now had a “new normal,” as much as I hated that term. Still, I felt like the changes to Grace’s day-to-day life seemed far more than mine. It made me bow down to women everywhere. I had no idea how they did it.
Grace had scooped up Mia after the bath and headed to our room to nurse her, saying she’d give her some Tylenol once she was done. I finished wiping down the counters and was going to head up to read Mia a story and get her to bed if she didn’t fall asleep nursing. And then Mom was going to give us one last night of babysitting duty before heading home. Admittedly, I was hoping for some time to connect with Grace, but knowing Mia was feeling off, I’d also settle for Grace feeling as well rested as possible.
“Aidan.”
I looked over to the couch where my mom sat scrolling on her phone.
She continued without looking up. “I’m sending the pictures I took of you all on the front steps.”
The noise from my phone on the counter told me she’d done just that. I picked up my phone to take a look at the pictures she’d sent. Grace was gorgeous, naturally. Mia and Baxter were adorable, especially in their matching sling and dog sweater. I couldn’t wait to show the guys.
“Son.” My mom’s voice was gentle, which made me brace just a bit. What was she about to unload on me? “If you look at the pictures you have on your phone since Mia was born, who’s in them?”
I was certain my face showed my confusion at her comment, because she immediately clarified.
“Mia, of course,” she prompted. “Is Baxter in them?”
I nodded, thinking of the hundreds, low estimate, of the pictures starring our pup and beautiful baby.
Mom continued, “I’m certain I’m in some from the times I’ve visited because Grace has sent me those pics. Grace’s parents?”
“They came down for an afternoon when Mia was born, so I know she took some of them then.”
“You, of course.”
