This Is Love, Baby (War & Peace #2)

And the first time I tasted her, sucked and nibbled on her sweet clit, I was a goner. When it came to her body, I was free. She was a healer, not an infection. I’ll never get enough of what she so gladly offers me.

I’d be a fool though if I said we were perfect. We’re far from it, in fact. Twice a month, Baylee and I attend our counseling sessions. Most times, we go together but on occasion we go alone. There are some memories my girl still has trouble dealing with—the loss of her parents, the fact she was a victim of sexual violence, and the betrayal of three men she cared deeply for. And I tend to flip the fuck out from time to time—the fear of losing the ones I love to disease, accidents, or some freak murderer hangs heavy in my heart continuously and no matter how hard I try to shake it away, I simply can’t. But together, we emerge from the darkness that shadows our minds and we find a way to survive. Happily.

Together we find the light.

Baylee stands and she shields her eyes as she looks up at the house. She doesn’t have to see me to know I’m always watching her. My heart flops when she waves and blows a kiss in my direction. I wish I could run down the stairs now and trudge through the gritty sand toward her. To take her in my arms and kiss her pretty mouth.

Of course I can’t.

Well, at least not yet.

When she turns her back to me again, I drop my gaze down to the glass near the floor. It’s smudged all to hell and gives Greta hives when she comes over. I beg her not to clean them away but she pulls the know-it-all motherly card and says it needs to be sterilized. That I can’t capture every memory in the way of snot and slobber. The memories stay in the heart and mind, she says, not on glass. My how the roles have changed.

I flick my gaze over to the clock on the wall and my heart begins to thump wildly in my chest. It’s almost time. Thirty-eight more seconds before Baylee says it’s okay. If it were up to me, I wouldn’t count the hours and minutes and seconds. I’d lose them all in the scent of blonde curls, bright blue eyes, and slobbery grins.

But I’ve learned my lesson.

When I break Baylee’s rules, we spend the rest of the day battling tears and meltdowns.

So, I count the hours and minutes and seconds.

Twelve seconds left.

Flickering my gaze back to my dad, I smile to see him hugging her. Those two cling to one another and it fills my heart with joy. She’s the daughter he lost. And he’s the father she lost. A perfect pair, those two.

Click.

I’m already stalking away from the window toward my bedroom as soon as the last second passes. The time is now. For kisses and soul-melting babbles.

“Dadadadada.”

I stop in the doorway, frozen by the sight of perfection. My little cherub stands in the playpen, grinning at me with the world’s cutest toothy smile. Her blue eyes glitter with excitement when she sees me and she reaches for me. Stepping over Baylee’s discarded nightgown and one of my shoes, I make my way over to my baby.

“Hey there, angel. Did you wake up?” I scoop her into my arms and kiss the soft hair on her head.

She babbles about her dreams, speaking a language only she knows, while I carry her over to the bed to change her. The sheets and blankets are a mess with Baylee’s psychology books still open to the last chapter she was reading for her college classes. A couple of years ago, I’d have flipped out over the mess. Now, I can’t stop smiling because it means Baylee has left her mark on my life.

“Did you poo-poo? You know Mommy changes all the poo-poos,” I chide playfully as I grab the wipes and a diaper from the end table.

“Mamamama,” she explains and scrunches her nose.

She’s so fucking cute, I laugh out loud. “Fine, you get out of it this time.”

Like the practiced dad I am, I change her with only a few gags that I’m pretty sure are normal for something that smells that rancid. Once she’s in the pink bathing suit Bay left out for her, I carry her on my hip toward the door.

“You ready to go play with Gramps and Mommy at the beach?”

She buries her sweet face against my chest and I melt. My girl has me wrapped around her tiny finger and I don’t care to ever be released.

“Papapapa.”

“Yeah, Gramps will be excited to see you.”

I step outside of my home and inhale the warm, salty air. Once upon a time, I shuddered at such a concept—breathing sea air. Now, I practically need it to survive. Barefoot, I trot down the steps and through the hot sand toward my family. When Baylee sees us, she stands and waddles my way. I’ll never tire of seeing her big and pregnant with our children. Before it’s all said and done with, we’ll have our own little army.

“Hey, honey,” she calls out to me. “Hey, cutie.”

Hannah reaches for her mommy and Baylee takes her. I come around behind her and wrap my arms to touch the sides of her belly. My mouth finds the shell of her ear and I kiss it tenderly.

“Papapapa!” Hannah shrieks upon seeing him and wriggles to be set down.

We both laugh the moment Hannah is free and clumsily makes her way to Gramps who is waiting with an undoubtedly sandy cracker my mother would approve of.

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