He has. Sort of. For the most part.
Yep, that’s what I said—Cookeplanned the wedding. The minute he proposed for a second time via FaceChat (the first time was at his flat in London) and I said yes (again), he started planning. Since I was pregnant and not feeling my best, he hired a fancy wedding planner from London named Bridget and proceeded to drive her bonkers for ten months. It got so bad, she threatened to quit several times. I finally sicced his mom on him after Bridget dubbed him “Groomzilla.” No joke. She actually called him that. To his face. It was awesome. It makes me giggle whenever I think about it. Right now is no exception.
“You’re laughing about Groomzilla again, aren’t you?”
“Yep.” I kiss his chest. “I may laugh about that for the rest of our lives.”
He sighs and pats my ass. “I can live with that.”
“Good.”
Just then, I hear a knock on the door and the cry of one very hungry baby. “Oops. Get dressed.” No way do I want my mom to see him in all his naked glory. Cooke Thompson nude is for my eyes only.
Reaching out, I grab my robe and slide it on as I make my way to the door. Harper cries and my heart beats in double time. I can’t stand to hear her cry. It breaks my heart.
“I’m coming, sweet girl,” I say loud enough for her to hear. It doesn’t do a dang thing to stop the crying. Only feeding her will do that at a time like this.
Looking back, I see Cooke has his shorts on, and he’s tugging on his shirt. Good enough. Pulling open the door, I reach out as Mom holds Harper out to me. With a scowl, Mom says, “She’sveryhungry.”
I’m not sure why, but seeing Mom’s face like that makes me giggle. “Sorry?”
She follows me into the room and sits on the sofa across from me. Cooke had the hotel place a rocker in my room for just this reason. Sitting down, I begin to rock as I pull my robe open. The second Harper sees what’s going on, she latches on and starts making her happy noises.
“She must take after Cooke, because you were never a fussy baby.”
I arch my brow at her. “I’m sure I wasn’t perfect.”
My mom shakes her head. “No. You were perfect.” Then she smiles. “But I’d say Harper is pretty damn close to perfect too.”
“Of course she’s perfect.” Cooke enters the living room of my little suite sounding a tad defensive.
“Nobody’s perfect,” I say to both of them. But when I look down at her eating like her life depends on it, I can’t help thinking she really is close with her light hair like her father’s and her bright blue eyes. I’m not really sure who she looks like just yet. I see both of us, but people who’ve seen her swear she looks like Cooke. I’m okay with that.
“So, you’ve pumped enough to last me the night and the morning, yes?”
“I have.” Mom and Dad are going to have Harper tonight while Cooke and I move into the honeymoon suite of this hotel. I know I’m going to worry because it’ll be the first night away from my baby girl, but Cooke keeps reminding me that if anything happens, we’re in the same building and can run down and get her if need be.
“Good,” Mom says, checking her watch. “You need to be down at the salon in twenty minutes.” She looks over at me. “Showered.”
I probably look crazy. Like I just had sex.Oops.
“I’ll be ready.”
“As soon as she’s eaten, Caroline will take over. She’s going to get her down for a nap.”
Caroline is Cooke’s mother. Between the two moms and Cooke, they’ve arranged Harper’s day like she’s a robot.
I’ve got news for all three of them. She’s not.
“If you can’t get her down, let me know.”
“It’ll be fine.”
If you say so.
Moving Harper over to my other side, I peek up at Cooke, who’s mesmerized by the feeding. Actually, the whole pregnancy and birth thing was something he took very seriously. He was frantic about making sure I ate healthy. Not only that, but he encouraged me to exercise, saying it’d help with the birth. I did it, sort of, along with everything else the doctors told me to do. The day I went into labor, I thought Cooke was going to have a coronary he was so stressed out. Because of that, I followed orders. Well, that is until she started to come out. Then all bets were off. Because, dang, that hurt. And I made sure Cooke knew. Needless to say, I wasn’t such a good patient during childbirth.
By the time Harper is finished eating, her eyes are droopy and her tummy is full. I feel better too.
