Second Chance with the Single Mom
Page 57
‘Are you sure?’ Sam’s mother enquired.
‘Ben’s going to love that particular challenge.’ Alistair smiled, putting his arm around Raina’s shoulder. ‘The design and the micro-electronics are the same, it’s just a different outer shell. Something the other kids can’t do, eh, Sam? Be a superhero...’
Another little piece of love that had been spread this afternoon. If they weren’t careful the tent was going to explode from the pressure of all the moments of magic that it contained.
* * *
At six o’clock the goodie bags were distributed, and the tent began to empty out. Clara and Gabriel found something in the house to catch Anya’s attention, and Alistair and Raina were finally alone again.
‘Clara and Gabriel have ordered us out of their garden.’ Alistair folded her in his arms and kissed her. ‘Clara says I can come back tomorrow to help clear up. But not until the afternoon.’
‘Mmm. That’s nice of them. What shall we do with ourselves until tomorrow afternoon?’
Alistair smiled. ‘I’d like to go home, and spend the evening with my family.’
‘That sounds nice. What then?’
He chuckled. ‘I want to spend the first night of the rest of my life with my beautiful fiancée. Soon to be wife...’
He wanted all the same things that she did. And together they could make them a reality.
‘That sounds perfect, Alistair.’
EPILOGUE
Exactly two years later
ALISTAIR HELPED HER out of the car, and Raina walked up the front path. Alistair followed, the same dopey grin on his face that he’d worn for the last thirty-six hours. He’d carried Raina over the threshold eighteen months ago after their wedding, and now he was about to do with same with their newborn son.
They’d explored all their options. It had taken a little medical intervention before Raina had been able to fall pregnant, but Alistair had taken much of the stress out of the process by telling her every day that he loved her and that he already had everything he wanted.
She put the key into the lock, twisting it and then pushing the front door open. Alistair took hold of her hand, and they stepped into the hallway together.
‘Welcome home, Alexander James Duvall.’ Alistair took Alex from the baby carrier carefully, smiling down at him.
‘Where is everyone?’ Raina looked around. The house was suspiciously quiet.
‘Come and sit down.’ Clara appeared from the kitchen, taking Raina by the arm and leading her into the sitting room. ‘Gabriel took the kids out into the garden. Anya was determined not to open any of her birthday presents until you were here...’
‘Wow! It looks so nice in here. Are you sure that’s enough balloons?’ Two huge bundles of balloons were clustered on each side of the bay window, reaching from the floor to the ceiling.
‘We reckoned that the pink ones would be for Anya and the blue for Alex.’ Clara looked round as a muffled bang sounded from the garden. ‘And the twins have found out that if you sit on a balloon it pops.’
Raina chuckled. Clara and Gabriel’s eighteen-month-old twins were into all kinds of mischief, often egged on by their father. ‘And who showed them how to do that?’
‘Well, Anya’s far too grown up for that kind of thing...’ Clara chuckled. ‘I’ll go and tell them you’re back.’
Alistair waited until Raina had made herself comfortable on the sofa and then delivered their sleeping boy into her arms. Sitting down next to her, he curled his own arms around them both.
‘This is...’ His expression was that of a man at the mercy of joy.
‘Fleeting, I imagine.’ Raina grinned at him.
‘One moment is all I need.’ He put his arms around her and kissed her.
They were interrupted as Anya tumbled into the room, followed by Gabriel, who had a twin under each arm. He sat them down on the floor and they both clambered to their feet, walking unsteadily towards the balloons. They’d clearly learned that a pincer movement meant that their father couldn’t grab both of them at the same time, and as Gabriel picked Sofia up Pietro managed to reach the balloons, tugging at them.
‘It’s your own fault, Gabriel.’ Clara entered with the cake. ‘They weren’t interested in the balloons until you started popping them.’