I watched Keeley watch me. “That was beautiful,” she finally murmured. “The give and take between you is perfection.”
“He’s pretty special,” I agreed, turning my attention back to him. His long eyelashes fanned out over his cheeks, his mouth was slightly open, and his breathing had slowed.
“He is.” She snuggled in closer to him and pressed another kiss to his nape. “So are you.”
I laced my fingers with hers and brought our joined hands to my lips, then kissed her knuckles. “Thank you for understanding.”
She squeezed my fingers and smiled softly at me before flicking her gaze to Bray. She leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his head. My heart was full when she whispered, “Good night, Spencer.”
“Night, Keels.”
***
I woke up to the sun flooding through a gap in the heavy curtains in the living room and Hannah fussing. It had been a restless night. I’d been up every couple of hours checking on Bray, but whenever I did, Keeley was already awake and talking quietly to him, handing him a drink or more pain pills, or adjusting the blanket over us. The two of them were now curled up together, fast asleep and sharing a pillow.
Before Hannah called out for her mum again, I eased myself out of the bed, slipped into a pair of old pajamas—plaid pants and a soft grey T-shirt—and padded out of the room. I barely got the door closed before Hannah shouted in an excited voice, “Pencer!”
“Good morning, sweet pea. How about we get you out of that wet nappy and fill your tummy with some breaky.”
She rubbed her belly and said, “Mmm, biscuit.”
I laughed and replied, “You can’t have a cookie for breakfast, sweet pea.”
“No cookie. Biscuit,” she insisted.
“Oh, you bloody Americans,” I muttered under my breath. “I’ll never get it right.”
I looked up the recipe for biscuits online, and there were a bunch of ingredients we didn’t have, but from every picture I’d seen they looked a whole lot like scones. I messaged Mum.
Hey Ma, can you send me your scone recipe?
I laughed at Mum’s response.
Oh, he’s alive! I was going to send out a search party.
I sent messages straight back.
Smart arse.
But seriously, I need the recipe.
It’s a hungry two-year-old baby emergency.
Huuuuuurry!
There was a pause before she responded with a row of crying laughter emojis.
Watch your language, you little shit. Whose two-year-old is it? Here’s the recipe. Call me when you have a minute. I need the deets and you owe me an update, kiddo.
I responded with one sure to have her full naming me.
Yes, Mum.
It was barely a second later that she responded.
Spencer Clay Anderson, I’m going to get that husband of yours to spank your behind for that!
She was so predictable. Laughing, I called her up and put her on speaker while I laid Hannah down on the floor and stripped her pajama bottoms off.