“Come here, Mom!” Max says, waving me over. “Come look at this.”
And I do. Sliding from the chair, I join my family on the bed.
My family.
Tyson wraps an arm around my shoulders and pulls me in close. His other hand lands on my belly and he kisses the side of my head. “I love you,” he whispers.
“I love you, too.”
“Tyson, could you come in here a moment?” I holler from the bedroom. My eyes drift to the manila envelope clenched in my hand. My heart is pounding with excitement, and my body is tre
mbling with nervous energy at what I’m about to do.
Max’s unexpected trip to the emergency room was two days ago. Brit was right; thankfully his ankle was just sprained. Like a good little patient, he propped it up and iced it for the first twenty-four hours like he was told, and now that most of the swelling is gone, he’s been putting more and more weight on it.
Tyson has been the ultimate doting father, and to say that Max has him wrapped around his pinky would be a massive understatement. It’s been fun watching Tyson fuss over Max the past few days, which has only solidified the decision I had already made.
So, here I am, adoption paperwork in hand, signed and ready to be filed. My palms are sweaty and anxiety is coursing through my body at the thought of giving Tyson full parental rights. I guess it’s not really for me to give, because he and Max have already declared each other father and son … I’m just making it official.
Tyson pops his head around the corner. “What’s up, babe?”
“Can you come in here?” I say, laughing when he makes no move to come into the room. “I have something for you.”
His brows furrow and his eyes leave a scorching path as they rake over my body. “But you’re not naked.”
I glance down at what I’m wearing. “Nope.” I shake my head. “I’m not naked.”
“Okay, but right now I’m whooping Max’s butt at racing. So unless you’re naked, whatever it is will have to wait.”
He looks so excited, and I imagine he is because the poor guy can’t seem to beat our son at racing on the Xbox no matter how hard he tries. I hate to pull him away from their father-son time, but I know that this is something he’ll want to know.
“Here.” I take a step toward the door and hold out my hand.
Tyson’s beautiful chocolate eyes widen, his eyebrows pushing into his hairline as he glances at the manila envelope I’m holding out for him.
“Is that what I think it is?” he asks, stepping into the room.
“Well,” I say, cocking my head to the side playfully. “If you think it’s signed paperwork allowing you to officially adopt Max, then yes.”
The words aren’t even out of my mouth and Tyson is rushing toward me. The envelope is ignored as he gathers me in his strong arms. “Thank you,” he whispers, his lips against my neck. “I swear to God you won’t regret this.” Tyson’s voice is soft and shaky. “I promise you that I will be the best damn father that little boy could ever ask for, and I will love him just as much any other children we have together.”
My vision blurs, and when I blink, tears fall down my flushed cheeks. “You already are the best damn father,” I choke out. “I’m sorry I didn’t sign it right away.”
“Don’t be sorry,” he says, his lips finding mine for several short kisses. “You’re giving me a son … our son. Since the moment I found out about him, Max has been mine. But now it’s official … and you did that.”
“Well,” I say, batting away my tears. “I am sort of fantastic.”
Tyson tosses his head back and laughs, the sound shooting straight to my core. I squeeze my thighs together to suppress the growing ache, because right now there is something much more important that we need to do.
“Let’s go tell, Max,” I say, pulling out of Tyson’s embrace.
If it’s at all possible, his bright smile widens even more, and he grabs my hand and rushes in the direction of the living room. He stops midway and I nearly slam into his back. “Wait,” Ty says, spinning around. “Should I tell him or should you?”
“You should tell him.”
“Thank you.” Tyson gives me a peck on the lips before turning toward the living room.
“What took you so long?” Max grumbles when we enter the room. He’s sitting on the floor, his foot propped up on some pillows. He picks up the Xbox remote and nods toward the TV. “Let’s finish our game. It’s been on pause forever.”