FIVE MONTHS LATER ...
Dear God. I’d rather have my balls dipped in honey and be staked to an ant farm than let Tilly go through this ever again. She’s been in labour for six hours, and it’s been the longest fucking six hours of my life.
I’m propped behind her on the delivery bed, supporting her as best I can while another powerful contraction rips through her. The second it’s over, she sags against my chest, and I brush my lips against her damp temple. “You’re doing so good, babe, so good. We’re almost there,” I assure her.
She swallows then tilts her sweaty head back and looks into my eyes. “I love you,” she mumbles. “But if you even think about doing this to me again, I’ll—” Her threat is cut off by another contraction sweeping over her. She grits her teeth and bares down, pushing so hard I think she just broke my finger.
“That’s it, Tilly. We have hair!” the midwife calls from between Till’s parted thighs.
“Fucking finally,” I mutter as Tilly lets out a low guttural groan that I feel in my bones. “You got this, babe. One more push and you’ll be holding him.”
She nods, determination filling her gaze. Her hands flex over mine where I’m holding her knees, and she takes the next thirty seconds to catch her breath. Then, it’s go-time again. Her nails dig into the back of my hand, breaking the skin as she gives an almighty heave, then a piercing cry fills the air.
The midwife extends a tiny pink squirming baby to Till from between her legs, and my arms curve around hers as she holds our son to her bare chest. He blinks slowly then makes a little snuffling noise as he begins shaking his little head. Tears fill my eyes when he latches onto a nipple all by himself.
That’s my boy. Ain’t nobody gotta show him how to find the boobies.
“You did it, babe,” I tell Till, holding her against my chest, my chin resting on her shoulder. “You’re a freaking superstar.”
She sniffles, her eyes meeting mine, and our foreheads touch. She closes her eyes and relaxes into me, but our moment doesn’t last nearly long enough. Minutes later, her body stiffens, and she gasps.
Baby number two is on his way.
* * *
An hour later, I’m embracing Tilly in the shower off the birthing suite—hot water sluicing over our naked bodies—and I have never been prouder of the incredible woman in my arms. Her cheek rests against my chest as I gently run the loofa over her skin.
I rinse her off, towel her dry, then dress her. Her eyes can barely stay open, but she refused to sleep without cleaning up. The nursing staff cleaned off the bed while we were showering, and I carry her to it before placing her down with all the care in the world. She snuggles into the pillow as I tug the blankets over her, and she promptly falls asleep.
Both extremely healthy, our boys are sleeping soundly in a little plastic bassinet. I roll it to the corner by a big comfy armchair where I pick them up, careful not to wake them, then lower myself into the chair. My chest is bare, and the boys are wearing the tiniest nappies I’ve ever seen.
After snatching up a super-soft blanket from the arm of the chair, I tuck it in around Theo then Tyler and settle back into the cushions.
When I lost Tilly all those years ago, I lost my heart, my soul, and my happiness.
But she’s given it all back to me tenfold.
ONE WEEK LATER ...
Walking into my house with my brand-new babies in my arms and Lee at my side feels surreal.
A year ago, if you had said to me that I’d be with Lee and we’d have a baby together, I’d have been torn between laughing in your face at the preposterousness and punching you in the throat for even suggesting I would be giving birth again.
Yet, here I am, with my other half and not one, but two babies.
I swallow past the lump in my throat as my kids rush me before wrapping their arms around whatever part of me they can reach.
Sailor is the first to release me. He runs to his little armchair, shuffles back, and opens his arms. “I’m ready to hold my babies,” he says.
Astrid stomps her foot and speaks over him. “No, I’m the oldest—I’m first!”
“No, me! I want to hold babies!” Ari throws in.
“One at a time,” Lee speaks over their ruckus. “But not right now. Your brothers are hungry, and none of you have the required equipment to get that particular job done. So, who’s going to switch the kettle on for me while I give Mummy a hand getting Theo and Tyler latched on?”
“Me!” they each call out, shoving one another as they all try to be the first to the kitchen.
I take a deep breath and smile. As crazy as it is, this is my life now, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. Even if I did spot a few more silver streaks in my bush this morning ...
Thank you so much for taking the time to read this story. If you enjoyed it, please take an extra second to leave a review by flipping to the last page of this book.
While this is the end of the Awkward Girls, JB has a whole new rom com series for your reading pleasure. Turn the page for a preview of the first book in her Unexpected Lovers series, The Starfish Method.