Page 165 of Unwritten Rules

I gasp, smiling triumphantly. “I knew I was right.”

My love chuckles. “You’re always right, baby.”

My triumph is short-lived, and my face falls when I feel that now-familiar wave beginning to build.

“Oh no, there’s another one coming. Shit, fuck, bollocks, wanker!”

“Bear down with it, love,” Dana’s kindly voice calls from behind me, and I can’t help feeling an overwhelming urge to throttle her. “Baby will be here in another minute.”

Easy for you to say, Dana, you epidural-denying cow!

My body takes over and pushes for me, allowing the strangest feeling to take over my entire being when our child suddenly leaves my body. I feel empty, but simultaneously full to bursting.

Nate helps me sit back on my heels as the midwife places our son on the sheet beneath me, right between my shaking thighs.

Tears silently stream down my cheeks as our boy inhales his first breath sharply before opening his little mouth wide and screaming bloody murder.

A sob catches in my throat when I scoop him into my arms, and, with Nate and Dana’s help, I settle back against a mountain of pillows to cuddle him close against my bare skin.

The second his face touches my chest, he stops crying and frantically nuzzles against the swell of my breast. Dana places a soft sheet over the two of us, and Nate leans in close, his face beside mine as we take in the tiny miracle we created.

“You were magnificent, Hellcat.” His whisper ghosts across my face. “I’ve never seen anything as breathtaking in my entire life.” He presses a kiss to my temple. “Thank you for giving me the life I don’t deserve, but will be forever grateful for.”

I raise my tear-filled eyes to find my husband’s handsome face. We contemplate one another, soaking this moment in for a long beat.

Nate’s lip trembles as he breaks our eye contact to press a kiss on our newborn son’s forehead. “He’s perfect.”

I run the palm of my hand over the back of his dark head while he rests his head on my chest alongside our sleeping son.

Dana disappears and reappears several times as long minutes pass without consequence, letting our trio just be.

Eventually, Nate raises his head from its resting place. His dark orbs are brimming with tears as he palms the nape of my neck and brings our brows together so we can look down at the sleeping bundle in my arms.

“Have you two decided on a name for your little man, then?”

“Nathan Henry.” The words are out of my mouth before my husband has even blinked.

He pulls back to pin me beneath his intense gaze. The tears from before have fallen from his lashes, mingling with his facial hair. A bittersweet smile lifts his mouth as fresh tears fill his chocolatey depths.

My own lips lift upward easily, knowing precisely what he’s about to say and loving him all the more because the way this man loves me is inconceivable.

“As you wish, Hellcat.”

* * *

NATE

SIX MONTHS LATER

“I’m just going to pop Nathan down for his nap.”

Mila presses her lips to our sleeping son’s forehead as I walk through the kitchen before she returns her attention to finishing dinner for all our friends and family currently gathered on the roof terrace.

Slipping down the hall, I settle my boy into his cot, taking a long moment to appreciate him and all he represents.

A living, breathing testament to true love. To the kind of love my wife once taunted me with across a crowded lecture hall.

His sleep-flushed cheeks are rosy, but I can almost make out the single dimple in his left cheek, the one he’s gotten from me and my mother. The one that winks at me morning, noon, and night because he’s the happiest little boy that ever was.