She inhaled sharply, and her lips parted.
I moved in for the kill, ready to make the fuck out with my woman when she shrieked, “No!”
My head reared back. “No?”
“You’re about to meet Imogen for the first time,” she cried. “And I’m wearing bright red lipstick. If you kiss me,you’llend up wearing bright red lipstick, and how are you meant to snuggle with your baby girl for the first time ever, wearing another woman’s bright red lipstick and having Rosie breath?”
The bubble of laughter rose through my chest and burst out of me.
Maybe it was the relief of getting custody after days of worry, and my stress levels slowly beginning to melt away, but I stood there between Rosie’s thighs, shoved my face in her neck, and roared with laughter.
After a minute, she started to chuckle too. I lifted my face and stared her into her eyes. “Thanks for coming. It means fuckingeverythingthat you did this.”
“You’re welcome,” she answered with a soft smile. “Missed your face, O’Shea.”
I’d missed hers, too. I wanted to tell her, to say something about how I’d memorized the perfectly carved cupid's bow of her full, plump lips, and the cute little frown line that creased between her eyes every time she furrowed her brows. And how I’d dreamed about the curve of her ass and the scent of the sweet, musky perfume ingrained into her soft skin.
Except I couldn’t.
Rosie would probably laugh at me and call me a fucking sap.
Instead, I went to the place I always did and planted another lingering kiss on her neck before pulling back and nuzzling her nose with mine.
“It’s hell not being able to make out with you,” I muttered, leaning forward and resting my forehead on hers.
Her fingers slid up my back and curled around my nape. “Is this going too fast?”
I pulled back again and cocked an eyebrow. “I’ve known you ten years.”
“Yeah, but we only got together a few days ago, and already we’re declaring that we miss each other’s faces.”
“We’ve been three years in the making, baby,” I shot back, my tone incredulous.
That was when the door flew, the force of it banging against the wall while Ma’s voice filled the air. “What is it with you and ladies' rooms, Donovan O’Shea? I pray to sweet Mary, mother of Jesus, that you haven’t got some sort of weird bathroom fetish.”
“Sorry, Maureen,” Rosie called over, grinning. “Donovan got a little emotional and needed to get himself together. We’re coming out now.”
“Good,” Ma said with a small huff. “My granddaughter, baby Imogen, will be here any second, and I won’t be waiting for you to get your arse outside to give her a cuddle. If you’re in here, I’ll be the one to welcome her into the family.”
My spine snapped straight.
Over my dead fucking body.
Rosie cocked an eyebrow. “We'd better get outside.”
“Yeah.” I grabbed her waist and lifted her back down to the floor, then with shaking hands, I entwined our fingers together.
“We’ve got this,” Rosie said softly, stilling my hand with hers and squeezing. Her voice was filled with so much certainty, so much damned confidence that my self-doubt began to ebb away.
Then we walked outside to meet my daughter.
Together.
—————
Twelve minutes later (yes,I was counting), Jen walked into the room where we all waited.
She was carrying Imogen in her arms.
