“Hi, baby girl,” I say when her gaze locks on mine. “I’m your daddy.” The word doesn’t stick in the back of my throat like a taboo. No, it comes out naturally. The first words I have spoken that don’t pain me in any way.
“I don’t look like much now, but I’m going to get better, and we’re going to take on the world together. With your mama,” I rasp, looking up at Malena. She has tears pouring down her face. The strongest sense to love and protect rears, stemming from my heart and blooming outward. Everything in my power, and with everything I am, I will protect them. My eyes water, watching the woman I love. “Well done, Malena Winterset,” I proclaim. “Job well done.”
She laughs through tears. “Yeah,” she says, nodding. “I know.”
The baby coos, and I glance down at her squirming, warm form. “I’m never going to be able to repay you for this, Malena. For her. For giving me this precious gift.”
“I think you can,” Malena replies. “Get better.”
“Then what?”
Folding her arms across her chest, she tilts her head to the side. “Then you come home. To Bronze Bay.”
“What after that?” I widen my eyes.
Malena pauses, a comfortable silence, our gazes locked in challenge. “I haven’t worked that out yet. Do you have any opinions on the matter?”
I nod. “I never want to be away from you,” I say. “Or her.” Peeling back the blanket, I glimpse tiny fingers and ten little toes. “So that means only one thing.”
“It means a few things,” Malena teases. “But what did you have in mind specifically?”
“You have to marry me. Obviously. And stay with me forever. And ever.”
Malena shakes her head, a smile playing on her lips. “You sound like a crazy person.”
“A serial killer?”
“No, just crazy. One step at a time. I had to help you pee. Let’s work on getting you fully functioning before we talk about life commitments.”
“But I am committed to you. To both of you. I want to marry you. I want to spend my life with you and Luna. Almost dying has a way of showing you what’s important.”
Malena tucks her hair behind her ear and sits next to me on the bed. “She doesn’t sleep all night.”
“Perfect. I don’t sleep well either.”
Luna turns her head to glimpse her mom. “I’m moody, and my ass has stretch marks now.”
Turning my head, I meet her gaze. “You can’t scare me off. I love bad moods. And stretch marks.”
Malena rolls her eyes. “No one loves stretch marks. Or bitches,” she whispers into my ear.
A shiver rises up my spine. The combination of the curse word and her breath mingled together is a wild turn-on. Maybe my mind feels like only a day has passed, but my dick somehow realizes it’s been the better part of a year since it’s had any contact with its favorite playmate.
I turn so my lips are almost against hers. “I think I might love a bitch.”
The smirk on her face is delicious. I press my lips against hers and say, “And stretch marks.”
Kissing her chastely once, I lean away and readjust the baby. Her body is squishy, and no matter how I hold her, I’m worried I’m not doing it right. “Especially because you got them carrying my child.” My child. Mine. I might be a weak bastard, but the inner lion is roaring out in total domination.
Malena stays silent, a serene look on her face. “There are photos of me looking like a blimp. Don’t worry. You’ll get to see how the stretch marks came to be.”
Luna’s body tenses, and she wails.
“Hold her on your shoulder, she might be gassy,” Malena says.
I do as I’m told and am shocked at how warm the baby feels against my hospital gown, she is a tiny space heater. The connection I feel to Luna is immediate, and the weakness that resides behind that makes me nervous. The desire to get well is now amplified by a million. “You never did answer my question,” I say, raising one brow.
“Which one?”
