Page 19 of Insta-Family (Forbidden Descendants 3)

Vaughn hitched up his chin silently to Beau, then dragged his gaze across the room to the rocking chair where Bentley still sat. He started to give her a respectful nod, but then the baby in her arms made a noise, and he jolted, instantly dropping his attention to the bundle.

The air hissed from his lungs, and I held my breath, anxious for his reaction. I’d been in this strange, dazed sense of awe since the moment the nurse had placed my daughter into my arms. She was just so—

I couldn’t even come up with the proper words to describe the humbling sense of honor I experienced, knowing she was mine to raise and nurture and spend the rest of my life loving. It didn’t feel as if I should deserve such a prize.

I wanted everyone else to experience that same overwhelming sense of peace and joy in her presence as well. And it seemed like Vaughn was the perfect tough and judgmental candidate to really test her power of influence on.

If he was impressed by her, then my own assessment would be validated.

Lips parting, Vaughn set the gift bag down next to where he was standing in the middle of the room, and he drifted toward the rocking chair as if a rope were towing him in against his will.

“And that’s Ava Grace,” I said softly.

“Ava?” He glanced my way. “It’s a girl?”

I nodded.

Returning his attention to the rocking chair, he peered down as Bentley opened a flap on the blanket wrapped around the baby so he could see her better.

“Shit.” Sucking in a breath, he set a fist against his mouth and rasped, “Jesus, she has his widow’s peak.”

He looked so taken with staring at her, that Bentley sent me a questioning glance as if asking what she should do.

I was too busy trying not to cry to know how the hell to respond, though, so I shrugged, clueless, wishing there was some kind of manual to help guide a person through this type of situation.

Finally, I cleared my throat. “Do you, uh, do you want to hold her?”

Vaughn shot me an incredulous glance as if that were an awful question, but then he licked his lips, looking tempted, and croaked, “I…” He shook his head. “I’ve never held a baby before.”

“Oh!” God bless Bentley; she was the one who brightly perked to life. “It’s simple. Here.” She rose from the chair, still holding Ava as she did, and Vaughn lurched a worried step back. “You sit,” she offered, “and I’ll just slip her into your lap, nice and easy.”

He looked uncertain as he glanced at me. I bobbed my head, encouraging him.

He blew out a breath and sat. “Okay.”

“And here she comes,” Bentley murmured gently, giving him fair warning because he seemed jumpy and tense enough to need it.

He alertly watched her, then brought his arms in to shelter the infant as soon as she was his responsibility. Big hands cupped her around the head, providing a pillow, and then he traced his thumb slowly across her brow.

When she opened her eyes, she seemed to look right at him.

Now, I know babies have really shitty vision when they’re first born, but being her mother, I had to think Ava Grace had amazing eye contact when she bothered to open her lashes. And at that moment, Vaughn seemed to be fully sucked in and locked on to her direct gaze.

“Hi,” he whispered, looking as if he’d just been punched in the diaphragm. “I’m your uncle Vaughn. And you…” He shook his head and squeezed his eyes shut. When he reopened them, his chin trembled. “You’re the only family I have left.”

As those words grated their way from his throat, his knee started to bob. He sniffed and shook his head, fighting some inner battle. But he must’ve decided the bobbing probably disturbed Ava, so he stopped abruptly and muttered, “Sorry,” only for a sob to explode from the base of his throat. “Aah, hell.”

Another sob emerged. His face turned a deep red as twin trails of tears dribbled down his cheeks. Then he rasped out a hoarse, indistinguishable sound and bit his lip.

But it didn’t help. Losing control of his emotions, he hunched over the child, his big shoulders trembling, and he wept.

Vaughn was not an easy weeper, either. He constantly tried to rein the pain back in, which only caused these worse bursts of grief to explode out of him violently whenever they broke free.

When he finally gave up on trying to prevent it, he lifted Ava to his shoulder, where he buried his face into her blanket and rocked, holding on to her as if only she could soothe his wounded soul.

Realizing Ava Grace was the only living piece of his brother he had left, I covered my mouth with my own hand as I felt tears welling.

“Damn,” Beau breathed next to me as he gaped, watching the poor guy completely lose it.

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