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“Daddy, move,” she ordered, huffing in frustration. “Why are your legs so hairy and yours aren’t?” she asked me then Harper, who stretched her arms above her head and cracked open her sleepy eyes.
Working her way out of the covers, Layla’s head popped up alongside me, her hair wild and full of static electricity. Her little hands cupped my cheeks in the special way she had of keeping me where she wanted me. Pushing them together to make a pouty mouth with my lips, she bent over and kissed me. “Good morning, Daddy. Does this baby have ears yet?” she enquired, staring expectantly into my eyes.
“No, Baby, it can’t hear you yet, that doesn’t happen for a couple of more months.” I suddenly had a vague recollection of having read something to this effect.
“Well, that was a waste of time. I thought it was ignoring me.”
Harper turned on her side and scooped her into a hug. “I love that you want to talk to this little bean, but it won’t have all its little bits until it grows some more.”
“Is it a boy or a girl baby?” she asked with a frown.
“We haven’t asked because we want it to be a surprise,” I offered, knowing Harper wanted to wait until the birth like she reckoned everyone should. I loved that about her, she had no preference; then again neither did I. As long as they were both okay I didn’t care about anything else.
“When will it get here? Will I be in school when it comes?”
Sitting up, Harper pulled her onto her lap. “Well, this is what I was thinking,” she began, her eyes darting to me, and then back to Layla. “If everything goes well, I figured I should have it right here in the house, maybe in the huge square bath on the ground floor.”
We hadn’t discussed this, and I almost choked at the thought of her taking a risk like this when I knew exactly what could go wrong. “Oh, now wait—”
“Yay, and I can see it come home?” she asked a little confused at what Harper meant.
“Actually, Layla, if everything is going well with me and the baby, then yes, there’s no reason why you couldn’t see your new baby arriving here in the house.”
“Baby, can you go tell Matty we’ll be down in ten minutes for breakfast, let Spot out the back too. I want to talk to Harper for a few minutes alone; then we’ll be right down.” Immediately, she scooted down the bed and out the door, her feet thundering down the hallway like a baby elephant. For someone so little, she sure made her presence felt.
Throwing the comforter off, I slid off the edge of the bed and I could feel my blood running hot from the bomb she’d just dropped.
“You’re not having this baby at home,” I stated categorically.
“We’ll see,” she replied calmly, and rose to her feet from the other side of the bed.
“No, Harper, you can’t take chances with something like this.”
“Something like what? Natural childbirth? Women have been having babies for centuries, Cole. I’m healthy and we live in a first world country, why wouldn’t I take responsibility for where it’s born?”
“You’re terrifying me,” I told her.
“You’re affected by the past,” she countered, “I’m not Grace and there’s no reason to think there will be any problems.”
“But if there are, you’ll be miles from help,” I argued, as my chest tightened when the idea of what she had stated gripped me. Feeling distressed, I shook my head and grabbed my jeans, shoving one leg in then the other. “This conversation is far from over,” I ground out and stepped out the room, banging the door behind me.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Reaching the bottom of the stairs, I saw Stuart come out of his quarters at the end of the hall, and I could tell by his face, he’d heard my raised voice. Striding toward me, he stood between me and the kitchen door, preventing me from going inside.
“Breathe, Cole. What the fuck’s going on?” he asked, concern etched on his face.
“I’m getting some coffee. Saddle me up, I’ll be over in twenty minutes,” I barked, not entertaining his question at all.
“Calm down,” he warned. “Remember Layla’s in there, and you throwing a hissy fit won’t be good for the baby either, you need to modify your volume.”
If anyone else had spoken to me the way he had, I’d have decked the fucker and stepped over his body, but Stuart had earned an opinion after his years of dedication where his even temper and loyalty told me he’d never do me wrong.
“Just do what I’ve asked.” My tone was low; my temper sounding more contained than it was from the first time I’d spoken to him. Satisfied I was now in control, he grabbed his jacket and headed down the hallway, past my office and out into the yard.
Entering the kitchen, Matty eyed me with concern and glanced toward Layla. “Did you shout at Harper?” Layla asked, completely unfiltered, and with tears brimming in her eyes.
I sighed, heavily. “Oh, Baby, adults often shout at each other. It doesn’t mean we don’t love each other. It’s only that living in the same house and having different ideas can get frustrating sometimes.”
