Hot Shot

  I’d like to think that he helped Emily develop so quickly. As I hold her in my arms, she’s no longer the bright red little thing who was so weak she couldn’t even feed. Now she’s six and a half pounds, up from the five of her delivery and she’s getting stronger every moment.

  “Are you ready to go?” Fox asks, coming inside the room.

  “I’ll miss you too, you handsome thing,” Irene says to him with a big smile. “My favorite lumberjack.”

  He looks down at the green plaid shirt he’s wearing, his jeans and Timberland boots and shrugs. “She’s got me there.”

  I give Emily to Irene and Fox helps me out of bed. I got dressed earlier, which was a tiring operation, but it was nice to be able to put on soft leggings and a giant tunic instead of the hospital gown. I wish that my prolonged stay in the hospital meant that I had lost my baby weight but I swear to god I’ve somehow gained while I’ve been here. The doctors say it’s just water retention from the preeclampsia but whatever it is, it makes me feel like my legs, stomach, boobs and face have turned into jiggling bowls full of jelly.

  But I’m counting my blessings. I nearly died, and I could have lost Emily too, and I didn’t. I’m lucky to be alive.

  Even luckier to have this man by my side.

  The man who has never left my side.

  The man who has given me his heart and I have no intentions of ever giving it back.

  Emily goes in the car seat.

  Fox carries it with one hand, his other hand strong and protective around the small of my back. He leads me out of the hospital to his Jeep.

  I blink at the light. I’ve been outside a few times over this past week but today it feels like freedom. Like I’m getting a chance to start again. Like the world has opened just for me.

  “It’s so gorgeous out,” I say softly, closing my eyes briefly as I let the warmth sink all over me. Spring is everywhere, all around us, in our veins.

  Emily’s birth.

  Our rebirth.

  Our love.

  “You’re gorgeous,” Fox says to me, kissing me on the forehead. Then he bends over and kisses Emily. “And you’re gorgeous too, sweetheart.”

  God.

  My heart.

  I might have to go back into the hospital if he keeps this up, this big burly man and his tiny, dainty daughter. The love between them makes me want to melt into puddles and that’s a problem because he’s her father, and I’m going to be seeing a lot more of this scene.

  But when we get ourselves all strapped into the Jeep, we don’t head straight to my house like I thought.

  “Where are we going?” I ask. My mother is supposed to be waiting there with cake. I want cake something fierce.

  “You’ll see,” he says.

  We head over the bridge over Queen’s River toward Ravenswood Ranch.

  “I thought we were going to my house?” I say.

  “Change of plans.”

  “But the cake,” I say feebly. “The welcome home cake.”

  “You’ll get your cake you cake monster,” he says to me with a grin. “Just have patience.”

  “Fox. I’ve been in the hospital for ten days with Emily. Our patience has run out.”

  He glances over his shoulder at Emily sleeping in the back. “She looks pretty patient to me.”

  “Fine. But if I don’t get cake to calm these raging hormones and that shitty hospital food…”

  “You’ll what?”

  “You don’t want to know,” I grumble. Probably just be a snippy brat, that’s what.

  “You’ll get your cake, Del.”

  He pulls the Jeep up to the house and there I see what he means.

  A huge Welcome Home Emily & Delilah banner hangs across the front of the house while white and pink balloons sway from the front porch, anchored in place by cowboy boots.

  “Oh my god,” I say, shocked to say the least, as I get out of the car.

  Fox immediately comes around to help me, holding onto my hand tight while Rachel darts out of the front door of the house to snatch Emily from the back seat. I mean, she literally snatches the carrier and then gives me a quick, impish smile before running back into the house with Emily and closing the door behind her.

  “What?” I cry out, pointing with my free hand. “Babysnatcher!”

  Fox leads me to the house but then stops a few feet from the front porch.

  Holds both my hands.

  Faces me so we’re inches apart.

  Stares deep into my eyes.

  And we’ve been in this situation before.

  Only this time it’s different.

  This time I’m absolved of all fear.

  Of all doubt.

  Because I know this man loves me for all I am.

  “I’m going to make this quick. Again,” he says with a chuckle. He’s still nervous though, which is absolutely endearing. “Because no one should have to hear my bumbling words twice.” He takes in a deep breath, lets out a shaky one. Squeezes my hands.

  I squeeze them back. “You know I’ll hear all your words, Fox,” I say softly.

  He licks his lips, the pink of his tongue appearing for a second. “You’ve been in love with me for most of my life and though you never confessed it to me at the time, I felt it. I knew it on some level that you were the one for me, the one I was supposed to be with. But that’s the problem with knowing things on some levels. Sometimes those levels are layers deep and you’re able to bury everything until you were sure it never existed to begin with. That’s what happened with us.”

  He goes on, voice soft as silk. “I pretended we were just friends because I never wanted to look deep inside myself for anything, let alone you. And then, I guess, things changed. Shifted. Little things moved in our lives so we could finally come together. Maybe it wasn’t in the way we wanted or the way it should have been. It was messy. It was imperfect. Raw and real. And it was the way it worked for us. It was how we found each other. Then lost each other. Then found each other again.”

  I stare at him, soaking in each word, each piece of himself, because I’ve been waiting so long to hear it. In some ways it doesn’t feel real but then I know it is because my heart is beating fast and my throat is dry and every single cell in my body is buzzing and alive.

  So alive.

  We’re so alive.

  “Del, I’m sorry that it took me so long to come around. To realize what you meant to me was more than I was willing to look at, let alone admit. But when I found a home in your heart, I realized that was all I’ve ever needed. Loving you is like every lost part of me has returned and made me whole and, fuck, I want to marry you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want to be your husband and love you to death and love Emily and be a family and be all the things that I know in my heart that we are.”

  He drops to his knees.

  Again.

  Brings out a ring.

  Again.

  But this time it’s in a velvet box.

  He flips it open to reveal a sparkling diamond and emerald ring that catches the light like otherworldly jewels.

  His voice is choking up as he speaks, “Emerald is the birthstone of Emily’s original due date. It signals rebirth and the spring and things starting over. Not to mention it sort of matches my eyes.” He gives me a sheepish smile at that one. I may have commented on his emerald eyes a million times throughout his life. “And the diamond is for now, when Emily was born. They’re rare and unique, just like she is. They symbolize love, like the love I have for you.”

  With a trembling hand he takes the ring out of the box and holds it poised at my ring finger.

  I’m crying and not even realizing it.

  “Delilah Gordon will you marry me?”

  I nod, the tears spilling, my lips quivering as I say, “Yes. Yes, I’ll marry you Fox.”

  He grins, a dashing beautiful smile that radiates like the sun and he gets to his feet, pulling me to him, kissing me with so much love I fear my heart might
burst.

  “I love you,” he whispers into the top of my head. “I’ve never known love like this Del, never thought I could. But I love you with all my heart. I am madly, chaotically in love with you. And I will do whatever I can to make you and Emily feel happy and loved, I promise you that.”

  He cups my face in his hands and peers down at me, tears in his eyes. “Do you want that cake now?”

  I laugh.

  Happy.

  So happy.

  And yes please, cake.

  The front door to the house opens and then everyone comes streaming out, smiling, laughing, matching our joy. Rachel holding Emily, my mother with bottles of what look like kombucha, Shane, Riley and Mav with beers, Hank and Dick (just drinking whisky straight out of the bottle now). Then Vernalee with the cake.

  My mother hands me and Fox the kombucha, something for us to have since Fox quit drinking alcohol, and we raise our drinks in one giant group toast.

  “To the newest Nelsons,” Hank says. “Emily and Delilah. Welcome home. Welcome to the family. It’s finally official.”

  “We’ve only been waiting twenty-seven years,” Dick speaks up. “Now let’s eat cake.”

  Amen.

  24

  Fox

  Six weeks later

  “Delilah, sweetheart, you need to give her gripe water.”

  “Mom, we’ve been over this. I’m going to a lactation consultant on Thursday. We’ll figure it out.”

  “It’s nothing to do with foremilk and hindmilk,” Jeanine says. “It’s just bad luck and Emily is a colicky baby. I’m telling you, you were colicky too and gripe water always worked. Plus, you could use more bone broth in your diet.”

  “Miss Gordon,” I say as politely as possible. “I’m surprised that bone broth isn’t coming out of your ears. Now what the hell is gripe water?”

  Honestly, I have no clue what these two are arguing about, all I know is that our daughter has colic and has been crying for two weeks straight, I swear, from three p.m. to three a.m. Everyone is on edge.

  “Gripe water is what I used to give Del,” she explains, her voice loud in order to be heard over Emily who is screaming and crying in Del’s arms as she attempts to swaddle her. “Back in the day, it had alcohol and sugar, so I’m not sure how effective it is now but it’s worth a shot.”

  “I’ve read that it doesn’t help,” Del says, her voice raised and frantic, “and it can cause vomiting. I’m not giving it to her. It’s got to be something in my body, what I’m eating but I’ve cut out dairy and gluten and sugar, what can it be?”

  “I’m telling you, you need more bone broth.”

  I look at Del and see she’s at the breaking point, her skin wane from lack of sleep, her eyes watering, lip trembling.

  It hasn’t been easy since we got back from the hospital, not even a little bit. We’re both so grateful that the baby and Del are doing well that we’ve tried not to complain about it, but let’s be honest—it’s been hell.

  Because I was out fighting the fires and Emily was born prematurely, our lives weren’t really ready for her. Del had a nursery all set to go in the house she shared with her mother but ever since we left the hospital together, ever since I proposed and she, thank the lord above, said yes, we decided that it made more sense for both Del and the baby, and her mother to move into my house.

  No, having your future mother-in-law live with you isn’t ideal, but she still needs helps with some things and to be honest, we need help too.

  Luckily, there’s a lot of room and Jeanine has moved into Maverick’s old bedroom, while we’ve turned his old office into the nursery.

  Today we’re almost done with the nursery too, only a few more finishing touches that I’ll most likely be doing myself because Del just fed Emily which in turn spurned on the next twelve hours of colic-o-rama, the worst ride in town. There’s absolutely nothing worse than the way she cries. Her little body cramps up in obvious discomfort and there’s almost nothing either of us can do to soothe her. It’s painful to watch.

  And hear.

  Still, Del needs a break. I need a break.

  We need a moment to be alone.

  “Jeanine,” I tell her. “It would mean the world to us if you could put Emily in the stroller and take her outside. Just around the block a few times. It’s sunny, it’s a gorgeous spring day. The fresh air might help her.”

  “Fox,” Del says. “She can’t do that. You’re asking too much of her.”

  Jeanine gives her daughter a sharp look. “I’m not crippled,” she says. Then she seems to reconsider that. “Only sometimes. Not today. I could use the fresh air and exercise too, believe it or not.” She grabs her stomach and jiggles it. “I’m not the only one who gained weight with this pregnancy.”

  I know Jeanine didn’t mean anything by that since she’s usually very supportive of Del but that was the absolute worst thing to say. Del’s been extremely self-conscious about her weight gain, even though it hasn’t been much and she’s even more gorgeous to me now with soft silky curves replacing all that muscle. She glows inside and out, even when she’s only getting three hours a sleep a night.

  “Thanks a lot,” Del cries out. “I’m trying my best. Everyone always says that with breastfeeding you drop, like, fifty pounds at once, like splat, it goes out with the milk.” I wrinkle my nose at her analogy. “But it’s not working at all with me.”

  “You look fine Del,” I try to reassure her. “You look better than fine. You look like a warrior, a powerful human being who brought a life into this world.”

  She gives me the most unimpressed look. “Oh, cut the crap, Fox. I’m hideous.”

  Jeanine gets to her feet and takes the baby from Del’s arms. “I’m going to take her out before you two start killing each other. Remember that you love each other and everything is going be okay.” She smiles at Emily and takes her down the stairs to where the stroller is by the front door. I can hear her saying, “Grandma is here to save the day again.”

  We don’t breathe, we don’t look at each other until we hear the front door close and the crying starts to fade away as Jeanine and Emily head down the street.

  “Thank you for that,” Del says quietly, leaning back against the couch. “I was starting to lose my mind.”

  Her words are a trigger for me so I sit up straighter and take her hands in mine. “You are okay though, right? You just have the baby blues, it’s nothing more serious? You know you have to tell me if you’re having any bad thoughts, Del.”

  She gives me a weak smile, her head lolling to the side. “I’m just tired. Don’t worry. I’m not thinking anything bad, I just want nothing more than to have a good night’s sleep. I want to be able to eat the things I had to cut out for Emily. Like a pizza. A big pizza with extra helpings of gluten. And cheese. So much cheese.”

  “I promise you we have a whole future of extra glutton cheese pizzas ahead of us.”

  “And beer. And wine.”

  “And everything you want. And peace and quiet and long restful sleeps.”

  She laughs, the most beautiful, joyous sound in the world. This is the best part of being engaged to her, knowing I’ll be spending the rest of my life trying to make this incredible woman laugh.

  “You do know that we have to be parents beyond this colicky stage and I don’t think we’ll have peace and quiet or solid sleep until Emily is like eight years old, right?”

  “I choose to be optimistic.”

  She looks me up and down and grins. “Wow. You really have changed.”

  “In some ways, yes,” I tell her, leaning over her until my nose brushes against hers. “In some ways I’m exactly the same.” I run my hands down the sides of her arms, wanting more but trying to be as respectful as possible.

  Other than a few kisses and hugs, we haven’t been all that physical with each other. I’ve wanted to, of course. I’ve never not wanted to. Even when it’s four a.m. and I’ve fallen asleep in the recliner with Emily on my ch
est and a hairdryer in my hand (the sound stops her from crying), if I happen to see Del padding into the kitchen to get a glass of water, I want her. She’s just the sexiest thing on earth in every way shape or form, and that will never go away.

  But I’m used to functioning on little to no sleep and in some ways, taking care of a newborn is a lot like fighting a forest fire, albeit an unpredictable one that rarely responds to any of your techniques. I also wasn’t the one who had to go through the physical transformation that Del did.

  “Fox,” she whispers.

  I glance up at her with my brows raised, my hands resting at her hips, ready to back off.

  “I don’t think I’m ready for that,” she says like she’s embarrassed. “I’m not confident. I’m not ready for you to…touch me.”

  It hurts to hear that but I’m learning not to take things so personally. “I totally understand,” I tell her, placing a soft kiss on her forehead. “Whenever you are ready, you know where I am. How about we take advantage of this quiet though and finish up with the nursery.”

  She agrees to that and I help her to her feet.

  The nursery is between our bedroom and her mother’s so it’s the perfect location for either one of us to be there in a moment’s notice. Del opted to paint it a soft yellow since she’s not really a fan of pink and the other day we stuck fluffy clouds on the ceiling. All that’s left is to pick which mobile we want and hang it up.

  One of them has the sun and moon and stars.

  The other one has squirrels.

  Yeah.

  The squirrels were Del’s idea.

  “I miss Conan,” Del says with a sigh, picking up the squirrel mobile and gazing at it as she spins it around.

  “But he’s only living with Shane and Rachel for a few more months until we get settled, and then he’ll be back here. So Emily won’t be missing out. Plus, Conan can live into his twenties. We’ll have that furry bastard for a long time.”

  She laughs again. “I know. But I still miss him. I miss having something that doesn’t cry all the time.”

  Even though she had literally just told me not to touch her, I grab her by the waist and pull her to me. “Are you talking about me or Emily?”