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“Sweetheart’, I don’t even have words for what I’ve witnessed in you today,” I replied, and bent over to kiss her softly.
“Yuk!” Layla shouted, and I pulled my face away. Tracing her gaze, I saw Natasha doing something funky with the placenta. “We don’t have to keep the jelly fish as well, do we?” Layla asked in all seriousness.
“Cole, maybe you can take her through to the kitchen now for cookies and milk and let me get out of here,” Harper prompted. Moving forward, I stood up in the bath and Layla shook her head.
“Daddy, where are your pants?” she asked, running over to the towel shelves and dragging a hand towel over for me. I chuckled as I took it.
“Something wrong with this picture, Sweet Pea. How come you got the big towel?” I asked.
“I was covering my whole body; you only have a little bit to cover.” All three women laughed, and I smirked as I climbed out of the bath holding the towel over my dick.
Less than an hour later, Harper had fed the baby in the bath before she’d been cleaned up, and strolled through to the living room with the baby in her arms like what had gone on was no big deal. It was the last thing I’d expected to happen.
“What are you doing? You should be resting in bed,” Matty admonished, as she gushed over our son.
“I’ve been sitting on my backside all day,” she countered.
“Here. It’s your turn,” Harper offered, wandering over to me and placing the baby in my arms. Layla immediately squeezed down the side of the couch next to me. Harper eased down on the soft cushion beside me and winced. I immediately frowned, and she smiled. “I’m fine.”
I turned my attention to our son and he lifted his outstretched hand. Touching it gently, I then placed my index finger along his palm and he immediately made a fist around it. He opened his eyes and blinked, and his tiny red lips made a neat little ‘O’.
Then he stared unfocused, but my eyes connected with his and it felt as if my heart had burst open in my chest. “Hello, little man,” I cooed, instantly recognizing the feeling of pure joy I’d missed out on when Layla was born. There are no words that could accurately describe what went on in my head at that moment. All I knew was I didn’t know my son yet, but I knew I loved him so hard and I’d give my life for him, just as much as I would have for Layla.
Blinking up at me like he’d been woken up abruptly, he pulled a face and pursed his lips like he was saying ‘oo’ and we all smiled.
“Twenty-one inches; seven pounds two ounces,” Harper informed me proudly. My seven-pound guess was almost spot on.
“So, what are we calling him, Mom?” I asked Harper. “Nine months and we’ve still not decided,” I mused.
“Can I name him?” Layla eyed first me, then Harper.
Harper smirked but decided to indulge her anyway. “What were you thinking?”
“Simba or Abu,” she said deadpan.
Both Harper and I bit back grins and Harper shook her head. “I think you have to be a lion to be called Simba,” Harper reasoned with a straight face.
“Abu Harkin… not really a big name is it? We need something special for him,” I suggested.
“Special?” Layla asked, tapping her lips with her forefinger. “I know,” she squealed, suddenly excited.
“What’s Santa’s name again?”
“Kris Kringle?” I asked and I couldn’t hold back my chuckle.
“No, the holy one?” Harper frowned for a moment; then it was as if a light bulb flashed behind her eyes.
“St. Nicholas?”
“That’s him… or Jesus?” she added. I looked toward Harper to rescue this.
“Nicholas? Nick Harkin? Not bad,” she mused. I had to agree, and we knew it would mean the world to Layla to be responsible for naming him.
“All right, Nicholas Harkin it is.”
Layla jumped up and down and ran to tell everyone else the baby’s name, as the midwives packed their equipment in preparation to leave for the night.
Turning to Harper, I cradled our new son in one hand, shifted to face her and cupped her cheek with the other. “Baby, you are nothing short of a walking miracle to me. You emit so much light you blind me. You have made Layla and I so happy.”
