Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 85711 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 429(@200wpm)___ 343(@250wpm)___ 286(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85711 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 429(@200wpm)___ 343(@250wpm)___ 286(@300wpm)
“Hi, baby,” I say to my son as he opens his eyes and just looks at me. “He looks like Michael,” I say, sobbing out. “How do I carry him for nine months, and he comes out with not a piece of me?” The whole room laughs, and when the nurse comes to take the baby, I look over at Michael. “You follow her, and you don’t leave her side for nothing.”
Allison steps out of the room, and I hear roaring go through the hospital a second later when she tells everyone we have a boy.
I’m a freaking mess. All I can do is cry every time I look down at him. The door opens, and Julia comes in with Alex beside her, both of them with tearstained faces. Max follows them, his face ashen as he looks around and spots Allison, who walks over to him. She buries her face in his chest.
“Everyone,” Michael says, sitting beside me on the bed as I hold our son. “We would like to introduce you to Jamieson Max Horton.” He looks at his father who is silently sobbing, and I look at my mother, who is being held by Julia. “Named after both our fathers.”
Epilogue One
Michael
Three months later
I walk into the house and close the door softly behind me, not knowing if Jamieson will be down for his nap. I listen in the entranceway to know which way to go. When I don’t hear any voices downstairs, I head up to Jamieson’s nursery and stick my head into the room.
His crib is pushed against the wall with the gift that Dylan had made for him. It’s hockey sticks from each of the men in the family glued together with his name in tin across the middle of it. He gave it to him on his christening day as his godfather. I tiptoe into the room and see the bed empty and smile, knowing that he’s probably taking a nap in our bed.
I walk down the hallway to the bedroom and see the curtains still closed. Jillian lies on her side in the middle of the bed with her eyes closed, and right next to her is our son on his side facing her. They own my fucking heart. “Morning,” I say softly when I get close to the bed, and her eyes flicker open.
“Hi,” she says, looking down at Jamieson as he just sleeps. “Did you just get in?” she whispers, and I nod. “It’s like if he doesn’t smell his next meal, he can’t sleep.” She wants to be mad, but then she leans in and kisses his head. “What time is it?”
“Just after ten,” I say, leaning down and kissing her lips. When my alarm rang this morning, she wasn’t the only one who groaned. Practice is back in full force in a couple of weeks, so I am doing my preseason training, and it sucks ass. “I’m going to go shower, and then I can take him and you can sleep.” Jamieson was ten pounds four ounces when he was born, and since then, he’s almost doubled in size. From the time he came out, he’s been a master at eating, and nothing has slowed him down. He doesn’t care much for the bottle, but he will take it if it’s from someone other than Jillian. If he sees her or even smells her, he’s not having it. He wants it straight from the source.
“Why don’t you shower and come join us in bed,” she says, turning back and closing her eyes. I look down at her and wonder how I could love her more. She’s been the best fucking thing that has ever happened to me. And to think our meeting was all a mistake. Shaking my head, I walk over to the bathroom and shower in record time, knowing I’m going to go back to her.
I walk out with the towel around my waist and walk to her side of the bed, slipping in behind her. I grab her in my arms and bring her closer to me. “Why are you in bed naked?” she mumbles when she feels my cock on her ass. She moves her ass from side to side. One thing that has not slowed down is the fact that I want her all the fucking time. Waiting six weeks after Jamieson was born was honestly the hardest thing I’ve ever gone through. No matter how many blow jobs or hand jobs she gave me, nothing was better than sinking into her. When I bend to kiss her neck, she slowly turns over to face me, hitching her leg over my hip. “Nothing says good morning…” she says, rubbing herself against me and then stopping when we hear the front door open and close.
“We are changing the locks,” I say, and she rolls her lips. “Third time is going to be a charm.” I’ve changed them twice already when Alex showed up at two a.m. once out of the blue and then another time when Julia and Alex both showed up in the middle of the night, and we found them in the living room passed out on the couch.