Dr. Stud
“Did my water break?” I ask, looking from one to the other.
“I think maybe?”
Dillon jumps up and starts shoving things into a knapsack. “What do you need, Bella?” he asks, his face full of worry. “Pants? Got pants, pyjamas, undies…”
“Are you guys serious?” I ask, propping myself up on my elbows and glaring at one and the other. Then I look down and realize how much fluid we’re really talking about, and suddenly a contraction hits. My breath rushes out of my mouth as I grab my stomach. “You are serious,” I say when I emerge from the pain. “The go bag is in the closet.”
Emmet runs to the ensuite bathroom and comes back with a hot wet towel, sponging me off while Dillon throws him a pair of thick, soft sweat pants and a tee-shirt for me.
“I guess we’re going to the hospital, baby,” Emmet smiles, and Dillon runs over and kisses me hard, then holds up the ‘g0-bag.’
“We’re going to be daddies!” he says, and I struggle to get to my feet and put on the clothes. Dillon tries to run a brush through my hair as I pull the track pants on. I’m scared, but I couldn’t feel more cared for. Emmet is running downstairs to get the car, and Dillon turns to me.
“You ready for this, my darling?”
“Ready as I’ll ever be,” I smile weakly as he takes my arm.
So, I’ll save you the gory details, but I did give birth that night. It was lucky since the babies were early, they were a little smaller than normal. Not that it was easy. But the doctor delivering us was okay with both men being in the room, so I had as much support as a woman could have. And they were amazing afterward too.
We were all snuggled up on the bed together, and I don’t think I’ve ever been happier. One baby in each arm, and a man on each side. I know it’s an unusual relationship, to say the least, and we do occasionally get some looks in the street, but I’m not sure why. I would think that every woman would love to have two beautiful brothers like Dillon and Emmet give them their happy ever after.
We named the twins Henry Anders Riordan and Daniel James Riordan. Hannah sent a big package covered in tons of cellophane and a huge blue bow. We ended up donating the contents to the local Sally Ann and recycling the plastic, but Dillon sent her a thank-you note anyway. It was kind of him, I suppose, but I know that Hannah just wants to get in on my success.
The novel is done, and I can’t wait until it comes out to the world, so that everyone can learn everything about what it’s like to have your own fairy tale come true -- how things aren’t always what they seem, and wicked witches can be disguised as good fairies. And, of course, that even two men that seem beastly at first can be your Prince Charmings.
“Dillon, can you get Henry?” I call. “He’s awake. I can hear him in the crib,” I call out, holding my cell phone to my neck to muffle the sound.
“Already on my way,” he calls back. I’m so glad I can count on them. While they never seemed like family men from all the stories in the tabloids, Dillon and Emmet have fallen in love with Henry and Daniel.
As for me, I am surrounded by the masculine. Having two twin husbands, and twin baby boys, well -- such a life would have seemed completely impossible before. But they thrive on creating magic, my husbands. And all their tricks seem to revolve around making me happier and happier. Maybe we’ll try for a girl next time, just to even the score a bit.
“We’re prepared to offer you a healthy advance on your second book,” I hear over the line, snapping me back to the present. “We just need a precis for the shareholders, so if you can send it back with the contract, we should be able to take this thing to the next level.”
I try not to let my astonishment and happiness come out too much. I want to seem cool and professional. But as I agree to the terms, I’m dancing around the kitchen, and as Emmet stands at the door, his mouth stretches into a smile and his eyes widen.
“The publisher?” he mouths at me. He gives me a questioning thumbs up. I nod and thumbs up him back, phone cradled by my ear. He does his own happy dance and as I wrap up the phone call, he hugs me hard.
“Dillon,” he calls out, and then immediately covers his mouth. “Are the babies sleeping?”
“Probably not anymore,” I say and then the baby monitor squawks. Sounds as if they’re both awake.
“Come help me with the babies,” Dillon’s voice comes through.
We both run up the stairs to share the good news, and are met by Dillon changing Henry’s diaper.
“Can you grab Daniel?” he says, and I lean into his crib and pick him up. He snuggles right in, little face screwed up with the effort of being awake.
“Is he wet?” asks Emmet. He has a diaper ready in his hand.
“Man, you guys are on it,” I smile, and lay Daniel’s little body on the changing table, and Emmet takes over.
“Well, tell him,” Emmet prompts.
“Oh right! Dillon! I got a great advance for my next book!”
“Isn’t mommy the smartest?” Dillon croons to Henry. “Isn’t mommy the best writer of them all? She sure is! She sure is!” Henry laughs at his antics. Dillon picks him up and walks over, and Henry stretches out his arms to me. I take him and breathe in the sweet smell of baby, and Dillon kisses my cheek tenderly. “You’re a superstar, Bella. I’m so proud of you. And, I can start planning the book launch party.”
“Ahh! Thank you! I’m so excited.” I spin Henry around as he laughs some more, and soon we’re all dancing in the room, trading partners and babies, grinning and cheering.