Page 114 of Before You Can Blink
I reared back so suddenly, it jostled Daisy’s arm, and Cash let out a tiny whimper. “Three? Who’s three?”
My wife turned to me, mouth opening and closing like a goldfish.
“Daze . . .”
Knowing she’d been caught, she wrinkled her nose and groaned. “I wasn’t supposed to say anything. It’s still early yet.”
“Well, you said enough already, might as well spill the rest. Like who I’m expected to act surprised for when they tell me themselves.”
Head dropping back on the couch, she said, “Aspen. Around Christmastime.”
“Damn.” I shook my head. “They’re popping kids out fast and furious around here. If I weren’t fixed, I’d be concerned there was something in the water.”
Daisy gave me a side-eye. “You run a breeding ranch. Can’t be too surprised when some of that energy rubs off on its human inhabitants.”
“If I remember correctly, you and I were the original breeders on this ranch.” I flashed her a cocky grin.
That got a laugh out of her. “That we were.”
I pressed a kiss to her temple. “If chasing after three little ones under the age of two every day is what will make you happy, I say go for it. A few more years, and I might be able to join you in your version of retired bliss.”
The smile that split her face was damn near blinding. “Have I told you lately how much I love you?”
Crooking a finger, I tapped it against my lips, asking for a kiss. “Yes, but I’ll never grow tired of hearing it.”
“Good, because I’ll never grow tired of saying it.” Obliging my request, she leaned in to press her mouth to mine softly. “I love you, Jett Sullivan, and this amazing life you’ve built for us.”
My eyes slid shut, and I breathed out, “God, I love you, Daze. You make me a better man than I ever thought possible. Everything I do is for you, for our family.”
And to think I’d never wanted to saddle myself with the responsibility of a wife and kids.
How very empty and meaningless my life would have been.
Chapter 27
Jett
Age 57
December
Droolandsnotsoakedthrough the fabric of my T-shirt thanks to the toddler sobbing uncontrollably in my arms.
“Da-da!” Reagan cried, the word coming out broken on a hiccup.
Bouncing her gently, I paced the confines of my bedroom in the middle of the night. “Come on, Ray. You saw Daddy this afternoon in the hospital, remember? He has to stay with Mama and your little brother, but they’ll be home tomorrow. If you go to sleep now, they might even be here when you wake up.”
I was well aware that attempting to reason with a seventeen-month-old was futile, but she’d been at this for hours with no sign of stopping, and I’d tried just about everything else I could think of.
The minute we had walked out of that hospital room, she’d flipped her shit, trying to run back in, and throwing her body on the floor when we tried to guide her down the hall. Then, Mac had gone and made it worse,popping his head back out at the sound of his daughter’s distress, and that turned the tantrum nuclear.
Unlike Cash, Reagan had never done an overnight at Gramma and Grampa’s house before. She was firmly attached to her daddy, the pair of them inseparable. I could only imagine how well it would go over when Aspen and Mac brought Bentley home and our granddaughter was forced to share her father’s attention.
“Give her here.” Daisy eased Reagan from my arms before speaking to the little girl. “Let’s go down and look at the Christmas lights. How’s that sound, sweetheart?”
“Dada!” she wailed in response.
Suddenly, I had a new level of sympathy for what my ma had gone through during those few weeks she’d attempted to watch Tripp as a baby. My ears were ringing, and I would do just about anything to make this unique brand of torture stop. I loved the girl, but it was enough to drive a person insane.
