Total pages in book: 23
Estimated words: 21278 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 106(@200wpm)___ 85(@250wpm)___ 71(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 21278 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 106(@200wpm)___ 85(@250wpm)___ 71(@300wpm)
He pauses there and when he speaks again his voice is thick, “Neither of us knew she had a heart defect. It went undetected until she went into early labor. They did everything they could, but it was too much for her. I went from the elation of being a new father to the terror of realizing they were too small to the anguish of kissing my wife goodbye all in the space of a few heartbeats.”
I don’t know what to say to that. I don’t know how to make it better for him. Grief is strange and hard. You think you’re doing fine then something reminds you of the ache and it feels like the chasm opens up all over again. “The twins are lucky to have you.”
He chuckles but it’s a sad sound. “They’re why I survived. I had to keep putting one foot in front of the other for them. They were so tiny. They needed someone to fight for them.”
“You’re doing a good job,” I remind him. In all of my time as a daycare worker, it’s the one thing I’ve found that parents need to hear. There are a million choices to make when it comes to raising your child and there’s no shortage of experts telling you the “right” way to do it. But ultimately, you’re the one that has to make the hard calls. Because you know your child best and sometimes, all you can do is trust that inner knowledge.
He nuzzles my neck, pressing his warm lips against my skin.
I turn onto my back, hoping for another round when I hear Leo’s voice calling for his dad. He’s already standing in the doorway, Bunny clutched to his chest.
“Did you have nightmares again, buddy?” Lincoln pats the bed and Leo climbs onto it, reaching for his dad because his legs are just a little too short to make it. Lincoln helps him up and the little boy settles between the two of us.
He smiles sleepily at me, all little boy innocence. “Bad dweams too?”
“Bad dreams too,” I answer.
“Daddy helps,” he says, burrowing closer to his father.
Lincoln puts an arm around him. “You’re safe now. Monsters can’t get to the big bed.”
“Daddy!” Lyla’s sharp, alarmed cry comes from the hallway.
“In here. Leo and Bunny too,” he says.
A moment later she appears by the side of the bed. He reaches out and helps her onto it, hissing out a breath when she elbows him in the rib as she climbs.
Lyla’s eyes grow big when she sees me. “Daddy,” she does her stage whisper again, “Lucy is here.”
“Yep, she is.” There’s a small note of amusement in his voice.
“You were right,” I tell her, reaching out to run my fingers through her soft hair. She’s such a sweet little thing and I wish that I could give her back her mother. “The big bed is just right.”
“Like Goldilocks.” She confirms with a nod before trampling her brother to get closer. She snuggles next to me. “Told you.”
Lincoln chuckles and even though the kids are between us, his hand somehow finds mine underneath the blankets. He threads our fingers together.
Falling for this man could be a heartbreaking mistake. After all, I saw firsthand what happened to my mom. She broke into a million pieces when she lost my dad. But I think it’s too late for me. I think I’m already in love with Lincoln and his adorable twins.
10
LUCY
“No cookies,” Lyla sounds disappointed as she peers into the contents of the toilet bowl before I manage to flush it. That’s the third time this week that I’ve thrown up in front of the kids. Fortunately, Lincoln’s been busier than usual at the station, so he hasn’t been home enough to notice.
“Tossing cookies is an expression,” I tell her as I reach for my mouthwash and gurgle. I spit and explain the phrase to her.
It’s been seven weeks since that first night I met Lincoln at the club. We used a condom at the hotel, but we haven’t touched one since. Not that I was worried. I’m on birth control but now I haven’t had a period and I’m feeling queasy. I have an appointment with Dr. Cash in the morning that I haven’t told Lincoln about.
I’ve read the stories of women who wanted to be pregnant so badly that they started to believe they were. I’m not that different. I really want to think I’m carrying Lincoln’s baby.
I love Lyla and Leo. In my eyes, the four of us are a family and they’re my kids just as much as they’re his. But there would be something special about getting the experience of being pregnant, of bringing a little life into the world.
“Remember what I said?” I ask Lyla. Normally, I wouldn’t ask this of her. But I know what happened with his wife’s pregnancy and I’m worried that it might be difficult for him to hear I’m pregnant. That’s why I’m keeping this a secret until I know for sure. “Don’t tell Daddy.”