“Or I’ll take you.” She said, giving him a quick kiss and pulling away.
He grabbed her wrist and stopped her from leaving the bathroom. “Hey.”
She paused and glanced over her shoulder. “What?”
“Thank you for putting up with me.”
She stared at him for the longest time, her face unreadable.
“And my family,” he quickly added.
“I only put up with you because you come with them,” she teased. Her face went soft. “But they’re my family, too. I can’t imagine life without them.”
“I could.”
She laughed and he watched his beautiful, naked, pregnant wife walk out the door.
Chapter Three
Matt & Carly
Carly turned over and her hand went out.
Nothing.
Matt’s side of the bed was empty. Shit.
She shot up in bed, willing her eyes to focus.
Had he had a nightmare again and disappeared?
Her gaze landed on his cell phone on the nightstand. Shit.
She couldn’t even ping his location. He wasn’t supposed to go anywhere without it. He had agreed to that. This way if he went into a dark headspace, she’d at least know where he was and if he was safe. She’d have some way to track him down. Or have a location to send one of his brothers to find him.
They had agreed.
Especially after he’d disappeared when they first lived together. When he had checked himself into a mental health facility for a month without a word.
He’d been so good about keeping his phone with him. She hoped he wasn’t slipping.
Not now, not when...
She glanced at the digital clock. 4:02.
She’d been up half the night because Levi had been fussy. She listened carefully and didn’t hear a baby crying or a man moving around the house.
It was too quiet. But then their bedroom door was closed. She never closed it so they could hear Levi in the room directly across the hall.
She shoved the covers off and slid out of bed. She padded barefoot across the room, out of the bedroom and was surprised to find the nursery’s door closed. Had she closed it automatically in her exhaustion?
She quietly opened the door and peeked into the dark room only lit by a nightlight. It was bright enough that she could see them perfectly.
Her husband sitting in the rocking chair, holding Levi against his broad chest, giving the baby a bottle. His head was dipped down and he was talking in a low, soothing voice...
Telling Levi a story Matt was making up as he went.
Her heart swelled and she put her hand over her mouth as the first tear slipped from the corner of her eye. She didn’t want to disturb them, but she couldn’t not watch the two bonding.
Father and son.
Levi had downy hair, as dark as Matt’s, and right now had blue eyes. Hopefully they would remain blue, just like his birth mother’s. Just like Matt’s.
She wiped away another tear that ran down her face. She had worried about him, but she had no reason to. He had stepped in to take care of Levi without her asking.
To Matt, having a baby didn’t come naturally and he had to work at it. But he was willing. He was willing to do whatever he needed to do to give her her dream of having a child.
And that right there caused another tear to fall.
His deep, smooth voice tapered off and he continued to stare at Levi for what seemed like minutes, when it was probably seconds. Lifting his head, he spotted Carly standing in the doorway.
“He was fussy again,” Matt whispered, carefully rising to his feet, the baby tucked in one arm, the empty bottle in his other hand.
He placed the bottle on the changing table, carefully moved a sleeping Levi to his shoulder where he had a towel draped over it and gently patted the baby’s back until he let out the smallest burp. Matt grinned and laid Levi in his crib on his back.
“Does he need to be changed first?”
Matt stared into the crib and murmured, “Already done.” He nodded, like he was assuring himself that Levi was fine and he could leave him. With a last look, he turned and approached her, still stuck in the doorway.
“You could’ve woken me up. You have to work today, I don’t,” she reminded him.
“I know. But I wanted to help. He’s my son, too.”
Oh yes, he certainly was.
Jesus. She couldn’t stop crying. He wiped a tear off her cheek with his thumb.
She dropped her forehead to his chest and his arms automatically came around her. “God, Matt. I got scared when I woke up and you weren’t in bed.”
“I didn’t take my phone.”
“I know.”
“We have an agreement that if I leave the house, I take my phone.”
“I know.”
“I wanted you to get some sleep. You’ve been up most of the night.”
Her third “I know,” never quite made it past her lips since a sob beat it. He kissed her forehead and wrapped his fingers around the back of her neck.
“C’mon,” he urged, steering her around with the grip on her neck and back across the hall, leaving Levi’s door partially open.
He left their door only open a crack. She normally liked it wider than that and when she went to push it open, he snagged her wrist and stopped her.
“Leave it for now.”
She flicked her eyes up to his face and noticed how his eyes had darkened and his nostrils flared. That was one way to get rid of her tears.
“What do you want, Marine?” she whispered.
“My wife.” He grabbed her hand and pressed it to his erection under his boxers, proving what he said was true.
She pinned her lips together so she wouldn’t smile. “You’re assuming your wife wants you right now at zero dark thirty after a couple hours of sleep at most.”
He lifted one dark eyebrow. “Does she not?”
“She might be able to drum up some enthusiasm,” she teased, sliding her fingers over the long, hard ridge. “Especially since you’re already at attention.”
He grinned and thumbed her nipples through the long-sleeved cotton nightshirt she slept in. The one that said, “Lay down the law, do a cop,” across the chest. He had bought it for her last Christmas as a joke. But she wore it all last winter and had dug it out again this year once it got cold.
She supposed it was fitting since she was about to “do a cop.”
The brush of his thumbs made her nipples turn to tight nubs, then he pinched the tips gently.
“Stay right where you are,” she ordered, walking past him toward the bed, pulling off the nightshirt as she went.
“Yes, Ma’am,” he answered.
She tossed it onto the nearby chair, knowing it would drive him crazy that she’d thrown it haphazardly. She slipped out of her panties and threw those on top, too, then turned to face him after rethinking climbing onto the bed. That could wait.
He had plans. Well, so did she.
She saw where his head had turned and noticed his shoulders had tensed. “My clothes are on the chair. What’s more important? That they aren’t folded, or that your wife is currently naked?”
Having a child would test his Post-Traumatic Stress-induced Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder, so she was trying to work with him to let the less important things go.