Page 17 of His Bride

He goes to check on his new little family, and promises to bring Noah out so we can seehimsoon.

I turn to Beth, who is crying happy tears that match my own. “A boy,” I whisper to her, overwhelmed with happiness for Max and Violet. “Howamazing.”

Gavin tugs me close, his arms going around my waist as he presses his face into my hair. He wants this, too. I close my eyes and sink into his strength, letting him hold me. We can’t rush starting a family. It’ll happen, one way or another, and until it does, we’re blessed with a new nephew-of-our-hearts.

The next time Max appears, he’s holding a baby. His baby. A swaddled, flannel-wrapped bundle ofperfection.

Beth is closest, so she takes him in her arms and oohs and ahhs over how perfect he is. My arms ache to hold him, too, and when she passes Noah over—ever so carefully, because he’s the most precious little person in the world right now—I can’t get over how lightheis.

And how beautiful he is, too. Tiny nose, tiny mouth, fuzzyblondhair.

Little Noah takes mybreathaway.

When it’s Gavin’s turn to hold him, he lays Noah carefully along his forearm and rocks the baby back and forth like an uncle with a lot of practice at that, whichheis.

He’s going to be the world’s greatest dad, I tell myself, and my insidestightenup.

“Hey, little man,” my husband says, rubbing the tip of his finger over Noah’s tiny fist. “Ready to take on theworld?”

Noah yawns inresponse.

My shoulders shake with silent laughter as Gavin returns the littlest Donovan to his father, and then the giggles burstforth.

“You think that’s funny?” Gavin says as he kisses mytemple.

“Verymuchso.”

“He might change his mind when he’s a littleolder.”

“And in the mean time, we’ve got you to fight the good fightforus.”

Ifall asleepwhen we get home, an accidental nap caused by reading in the sitting room upstairs, where the summer sun streams in at just the rightangle.

When I wake up, I feel all kinds of discombobulated and I go in search of Gavin. He’s in his library on the main floor, on the phone with Stew. I grab a sticky note and scrawlDo you want tea?onit.

He shakes his head and blows meakiss.

The kettle has just boiled when he comes to find me in the kitchen. I’m standing in front of the fridge, trying to decide what I want to eat, so he pours the hot water over the loose leaf teaforme.

“Thank you,” Imurmur.

“Hungry?”

“Not sure. I’m something. Can’t decide if the nap made me queasy or hungry. Tea might settle mystomach.”

“Maybe you should take apregnancytest.”

I whirl around, letting the fridge door thumpshut. “What?”

“Your period is weeks late,” he says, his eyes soft and sweet as he glances down my body. “And your breasts have been more sensitive in the last few days. If you’re feelingnauseous…”

“I took a test,” I mutter, hope fluttering in my chest.A week ago, says a little voice in the back of my mind. I don’t want to take another one, not if it’ll be negative. “And going off the pill can make cycles a bit wonky atfirst.”

He nods, but he’s still looking at me with that curiously warmexpression.

“I’ll take a test in a few days if my cycle hasn’t startedagain.”

“That’s agoodplan.”

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