Keeping Score

Hunter fastened a Santa hat to his head and started sorting the presents under the tree.

“Hold on, bud. We’ll be right back.”

Julie looked at me questioningly. I ushered her back to our room.

“What’s wrong? Are you upset about the baby?”

“God no. The opposite.”

My mouth landed on hers as I pulled her into my arms. My hands coasted to her breasts, squeezing tenderly, flicking over her nipple. She groaned as my tongue twisted along hers.

“So fucking beautiful.” I breathed.

My palm rested on her stomach.

“I can’t believe you’re having my baby. Our baby.” I looked into her eyes.

She nodded. “I am. We’re going to have a baby.”

“You have never looked so fucking sexy ever. And it’s killing me. You know that.”

“I know. I want you too. I want you like this. We’re getting married. We’re having a baby.” She pulled my hand to her lips, kissing my fingertips.

I groaned. “Did you ever think we’d end up here?”

“No. Honestly never.”

I wanted to shred that plaid robe from her and take her now. Love her like she deserved. Fill her with pleasure and joy. Give her the most incredible fucking Christmas of her life.

“Think he’ll notice if we’re gone a few more minutes?” I waggled my eyebrows.

She sighed. “Yes. Delayed gratification is going to have to be your aphrodisiac today,” she teased.

“It’s going to kill me,” I groaned.

She held up the rock on her hand. “We have time, right?”

“We do. We have the rest of our lives.”

“Merry Christmas.” She leaned into me and I devoured her lips as if they were made from pure honey.

“Merry Christmas.”

I don’t know how it happened. How a guy like me. A guy who made every wrong decision at every turn. Ended up with this perfect woman. With a son. With a baby on the way. But I did. And I sure as hell wasn’t going to screw it up.

Ever.

Ten months later

The alarm beeped. I rolled over. I had practice in two hours. Before I could turn it off I saw the lights on the monitor started to flash. Oh shit. I hurled myself toward it to silence the noise before Julie moved.

I sighed. Close one.

I stepped one foot on the floor, and eased my heavy frame out of bed. She had wicked mother instincts. If I didn’t get to Frannie’s room quickly, the crying would wake up my wife with or without the help of the monitor.

I tiptoed out of our room and crept along the hall to the nursery. I opened the door.

“What’s going on?” I whispered to my daughter.