Everyone has moments in their lives, which are superior to others. They become an obsession, your reason for living, and all my moments involve Dylan. The moment I saw her, standing at the end of my row next to Ian. Our wedding day, when she officially became mine. And now this.
She’s so tiny in my arms. I’ve held babies before. My nieces and nephews. Even Juls’ and Ian’s son. But none of them seemed this delicate. I’ve counted her fingers and toes several times. I’ve memorized the feel of her skin and every detail of her face. She looks like Dylan, except her hair is darker and apparently resembles mine after I’ve run my hands through it, whatever the hell that means. She waited forty-one weeks to meet us, but she still seems so small. I’ve been told seven pounds is a very healthy weight, but that information isn’t comforting me. I was a nervous wreck before she arrived and now, maybe I’m worse off.
“You’re going to stress me out like your mother, aren’t you?”
She coos against me, a reaction I’ve picked up on since I started whispering softly to her.
I never want to put her down. Ever. That crib I spent hours putting together weeks ago isn’t going to be used any time soon. I hold her closer to me, running my nose along her cheek, when I feel a hand in my hair.
I look up and meet my wife’s sleepy eyes. “Hi, handsome.”
Standing from my chair, I carry our daughter over to her. “Do you want to hold her?” Please, say no. Let me keep her for a few more hours.
She shakes her head slowly. “She’ll want me when she wakes up hungry.” She slides away from me, patting the bed. “Come here.”
I climb into bed, cradling Ryan against my chest. Dylan leans over and kisses the top of her head.
“Mmm. She might have you beat on smell.” She reaches for the birth certificate on the tray next to her and grabs a pen. “I thought of a middle name.”
I pull my eyes off the only other girl who commands my attention and look over at my wife. “Yeah?”
She looks at Ryan, then at me. “Love. Ryan Love Carroll. Whatcha think?”
I smile and her face lights up before she begins filling out the blank box on the birth certificate. We picked Ryan months ago, something I threw out as an idea. But we couldn’t settle on a middle name. And Dylan refused to pass hers down.
She caps the pen and pushes the tray away, just as her phone beeps on her lap. Grabbing it, she looks at the screen before smiling over at me. “They want to meet her.”
I pull Ryan away from my chest when she begins to stir. Her body goes rigid in my arms as her lips part with a yawn. I relax when she stills, looking over at Dylan. “Five more minutes?”
“You can’t keep them out forever. Your mother is probably going crazy.” She rolls onto her side and runs her hand over Ryan’s head. “This hair,” she says with snarky disapproval.
“She’s perfect.” I look up. “She’s just like you. She’s already hit me in the face twice with her tiny fists.”
We both laugh as I shift onto my right hip, turning my body toward her and lying on my side. I hold Ryan between us as Dylan drapes her arm over my body.
“Do you have everything you want?” she asks through a yawn, her eyes struggling to stay open.
“Not yet.”
My answer puzzles her. I smile at her confusion and lean in, pressing my lips against hers. “I want to do this again.”
She leans back. “You know we have to wait six weeks before we do anything again, right?”
“What?”
She laughs, lying her head on her pillow. “No sex for six weeks, handsome. Doctor’s orders.”
I feel my jaw twitch as my hand pulls her hip so she’s closer to me. She’s never close enough. I could crawl inside her skin and bury myself there and I’d still need more.
“I’ll be speaking to him about that.”
Nobody gives me the go-ahead to touch my wife. I’m certain rules can be stretched. In fact, I think I read it somewhere. As long as she’s comfortable. Shit. What did that article say?
“You’re thinking very loudly over there.”