“Yeah,” I said, handing him his controller. “And we gonna let her. Deal?”
He nodded, serious about it like he was really responsible for something.
Mama was in the kitchen cooking breakfast. Jo was cleaning the house from top to bottom and Rich went out to get more groceries and things Stormi would need. I was in charge of the boys and keeping them quiet, and I was failing horribly at that. S3 shouted at the video game he was playing, scaring Shiloh out of his sleep and the moment that boy locked eyes with me and realized I wasn’t his mama, the yell that came from his mouth screamed more than stranger danger.
I grabbed the bottle out of the warmer full of his mama’s breast milk, hoping this would soothe him for now.
“Baby boy, you good,” I whispered to Shiloh as he screamed to the top of his lungs, refusing to take the bottle.
I rocked him in the rocking chair, even stood and rocked and walked him. He wasn’t having it. Checking his diaper to makesure it wasn’t wet and even his diaper was good. He just was screaming.
“Can I help?”
Stormi’s voice floated into the room, soft but tired, and it cut straight through Shiloh’s screams. She stood in the doorway, hair messy, eyes heavy, but still the most beautiful thing I’d seen all damn day. The second Shiloh heard her voice, his cries shifted less anger, more need.
“I was trying not to wake you,” I said, crossing the room to her. I leaned in and pressed a slow kiss to her lips.
She kissed me back, soft but full of warmth. “I know… but the bed gets a lot colder when my boys aren’t there.”
I couldn’t help the smile that crept up. “Always tryna be cute,” I murmured.
Stormi smirked, but the moment I placed Shiloh in her arms, everything inside that little boy changed. His cries faded, then softened, then disappeared altogether. It was like he felt her heartbeat and instantly remembered he was safe.
She walked over to S3, bending slowly so she wouldn’t disturb the baby in her arms. “Hey, my love,” she whispered, kissing him on the forehead.
“Mama Stormi,” he whispered back with a grin.
Then she headed toward the rocking chair the same one I’d been sinking into not ten seconds ago and settled down with her spoiled ass son. And I swear, the moment her body touched the seat, Shiloh melted, arms relaxed, shoulders softened, and chest settled like he’d finally found his peace.
“Did he eat?” she asked, her eyes flicking toward the bottle sitting on the play table.
“I tried,” I said, moving closer and handing it to her. “He wasn’t having it.”
It was like Shiloh looked at that bottle, then back at Stormi, and turned away from it so dramatically we both couldn’t help a small laugh.
“He is so damn picky,” I muttered.
“He just wants his Mama,” she said softly.
And we both knew it was true. Stormi grabbed a receiving blanket and draped it over herself, shielding her breast from S3. With the ease of someone who’d been doing this forever, she lifted her shirt, guided Shiloh close, and let him latch. Instantly, he calmed. No crying, no fussing, just soft breaths and satisfied little gulps.
I leaned against the wall, shaking my head. “You see he already attached. Same effect you had on me.”
Stormi looked up at me, eyes warm. “So, it’s too late to try and run,” she teased.
But she knew it was the truth. Her presence, her touch… she was peace wrapped in skin.
Shiloh ate until his little eyes started fluttering shut. When he finished, she shifted him to her shoulder and burped him like it was nothing. A soft pat, a gentle rub that’s all it took for her to get that burp.
I laughed quietly. “See, now if that was me, I’d still be over here holding him up ’til dinnertime trying to get one little burp out.”
Stormi smiled, brushing her cheek against Shiloh’s head. “That’s why we balance each other,” she whispered. “You hold the chaos. I hold the calm.”
And damn… if that wasn’t the truest thing she’d ever said.
“I’m hungry!” S3 yelled, not really talking to anyone. Just whoever he thought would move the fastest.
I chuckled. “Grandma cooked. Let’s go downstairs and get breakfast.”
