Page 68 of Four Tattoos

“The contractions are close now,” the nurse says. “I’ll go let the doctor know it’s time.”

It’s time.

I didn’t know it was possible for my heart to beat as quickly as it is while I’m standing still.

“You’ve got this, Rose.” Disregarding my clammy hands, I give her arm a squeeze and watch her face, hoping she’ll give me a smile. There’s a hint of one, behind her grimace, and my heart clenches as if it’s in a vise.

I remind myself that billions of women have been through this, and in my mind, I replay the videos we watched. There’ll be pain, but the end result will be amazing.

“You’re doing great,” I tell her. “It’s almost time to meet our baby.”

From there on out, everything happens in a blur. The doctor strides in, a reassuringly calm look on her face as she directs the nurses, talks to Rose, and gets her into position on the table.

This isn’t the doctor we’ve been seeing at appointments; she’s from the same practice, and happens to be the one working the rotating shift at the hospital today, which is how we were warned it would be. “Who’s the daddy?” she asks, looking around at all of us.

“We all are,” Hutch says, a shaky quality to his voice that tells me he’s feeling exactly the way I am.

Her brow lifts slightly before she gives a single nod. “Okay.” She invites us to stand near her to watch the delivery, but I’m not leaving Rose’s side nor letting go of her hand.

Christian stays opposite me, and the two of us do everything we can to support her as she pushes, and pauses, and cries out, and pushes some more to eventually deliver our amazing baby girl.

I watch through tear-filled eyes as our child, so tiny, so precious, so incredibly perfect, is placed on Rose’s chest. It’s the single best moment of my entire life.

“You did it,” I say, leaning close to Rose’s ear, kissing her cheek, amazed that the love I already felt for her has somehow multiplied beyond all calculations.

“Wedid it,” she says, taking her eyes away from the baby briefly to meet mine. Her face is filled with more joy than I’ve ever seen; she’s made of pure light and warmth.

I kiss her cheek again and then her forehead, before resting my hand gently on the baby’s back, her skin softer than anything I’ve ever felt. Mace comes to stand beside me, his hand joining mine, and across from us, Christian and Hutch do the same.

All five of us—now six—connected. Always.

52

MACE - FIFTEEN MONTHS LATER

Over the top of my sketchbook, I see Rose roll onto her back and stretch her arms overhead.

“Was it a good nap?” I ask, joining her in the middle of our giant bed, lining my body up with hers.

She smiles at me, her eyes crinkling adorably at the edges. “Very good.”

After her stretch, she goes still, cocking her head in a way that tells me she’s listening for sounds elsewhere in the house. “Is Ryleigh sleeping?”

“I think they finally got her down. Hutch, Christian, and Zipper were rocking her to sleep.”

“All three of them?”

I nod as I stroke my hand over her hip and down her thigh. “When I looked in, Zipper was holding her, and Hutch and Christian were singing a lullaby.”

“Wish I could’ve seen that,” she says, her face melting into anawwexpression. Rolling onto her other side, she clicks on the baby monitor, and muffled singing fills the bedroom, making her giggle. After listening for a minute, she turns it off and rolls back toward me.

I lean in and give her a kiss. “Are you feeling rested enough to have some fun?”

“What did you have in mind? A board game, or maybe a card game?” she teases.

I pull her closer, bringing our hips together. “How about making another baby?”

“Ahh, maybe in another year,” she says.

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