Page 120 of Before You Can Blink
If you added all those surrogate grandkids to our biological ones, the count came in at eleven.
With my arm slung around the back of Daisy’s chair, I jerked my chin in the direction of the playing children we loved dearly before leaning in to whisper in her ear, “Eleven’s not twelve, but it’s pretty darn close.”
Dropping her head onto my shoulder, she sighed. “Best family we could ever ask for.”
She wouldn’t hear an argument from me.
Penny cleared her throat gently, drawing our eyes to her. Standing like she was about to give a toast, she began, “So, I know this is Daddy Jett’s day . . .”
My eyebrows shot sky-high as several of the ladies fought to stifle laughter, while across the table, Tripp dragged a hand down his face, muttering, “Jesus.”
Looking down at my son, his wife huffed, “What? There’s a lot of daddies around here these days, so I didn’t want there to be any confusion.”
From my left side, Mac leaned in, chest puffed up with pride as he declared, “Daddy Jett. I started that.”
“’Course you did.” The words were uttered under my breath. To Penny, I said, “You’ve called me just Jett all your life, darlin’. No need to change it up now.”
Pink crept onto her cheeks, and she ducked her head. “Right.” Sucking in a deep breath, she went back to the beginning. “While I know this is Jett’s day—”
“And Paisley’s,” I was quick to add, not wanting to forget the actual birthday girl.
“And Paisley’s,” she agreed with a smile. “Tripp and I”—she reached down to grasp her husband’s hand—“thought that since we were already celebrating, now would be a good time to share that we’re expecting.” The pink hue on her cheeks deepened to an even darker shade of scarlet. “Again.”
That stunned the table silent, everyone’s eyes going to Sawyer, tucked to Tripp’s chest. Sure, none of their children were very far apart in age, but it didn’t take much mental math to figure out the next baby would be born before Sawyer turned one.
Mac was the first to recover, folding both arms over his chest and pouting. “Everyone gets a new baby but me.”
“Here, you can take this one.” Aspen transferred a sleeping Saylor into Mac’s arms.
Only mildly pacified by holding their friend’s baby, he whined, “But I have to give her back.”
Tucker chuckled. “I mean . . . if you’re feeling so inclined as to keep her, we have an extra.” He dipped his chin toward Oaklynn, which caused Bex to elbow him in the side playfully.
Aspen patted her husband’s shoulder. “Only way you’re getting another one is if you carry it yourself, buddy.”
“That’s not fair,” Mac cried. “I can’t physically do that!”
“You know,” Tripp broke in. “The usual response when someone tells you they’re having a baby is ‘congratulations’.”
Ma had been a silent observer this whole time but chose now to speak. “You’re right. Let’s give the boy a big ole round of applause for having so much unprotected sex that his wife’s never not knocked up.”
“Fuck my life,” Tripp groaned.
“Watch your mouth!” Mac whisper-hissed. “Baby ears over here.” He placed a protective hand over Saylor’s tiny head in an attempt to muffle her hearing.
Aspen rose from her chair to pull Penny into a hug, directing an exaggerated “congratulations” over her shoulder toward her little brother.
Everyone followed suit, but before I could stand, Daisy leaned in, a smug satisfaction in her voice. “That makes twelve.”
Yes, yes, it did.
Pressing a kiss to the side of her head, I murmured, “Was a fool to ever doubt you, honey.”
It only took four decades to get there, but we finally had the big, beautiful family Daisy had always dreamed of, and I’d gotten us to a place where we could provide them with stability and security for the future.
Now it was time to sit back and enjoy everything we’d worked so hard for.
Chapter 29
