She tries to make it sound casual, but can’t quite hide the hint of disappointment.
“You’ve met my parents, right? They like roaming around naked.”
I mock-shiver.
Actually, not so much ‘mock’ since I’ve seen my parents’ wrinkled bare attributes one too many times growing up.
Still, it earns me her grin. She has met them. She knows what they’re like, she’s just never had to be witness to it. They tend to get dressed for company.
“You saw me naked yesterday,” she teases. “You didn’t seem offended.”
“No comparison. You I wouldn’t mind naked all the time.”
I’d love to capitalize on the flash of heat spreading over her face and the slight puff of air leaving her lips slightly open, but we’ve reached the NICU and Dimi is walking toward us.
I’ve never seen my brother like this. He softens when he looks at his wife, clearly loves her to distraction, but this… He radiates happiness.
Damn if my heart doesn’t squeeze in my chest. My brother, who I’ve been at odds with more often than not, who came back from his last rotation a shell of the man he was going into the armed forces, who battled through the loss of his leg, and the resulting PTSD, to become one of my most valuable operatives and a fantastic husband to Willa.
I’m proud. So fucking proud of him.
His eyes, the same green color as my mother’s, are bright and full of life as he walks right up to Bree and greets her with a hug and a kiss. Then he turns to me, that goofy grin still on his face as he pulls me into a hug.
“I wanted you to be the first to meet him,” he relays softly before he lets me go.
“Fucking happy for you, Brother. So fucking happy.”
“We can only have one visitor at a time in there,” he says apologetically.
I look down at Bree, whose eyes have become suspiciously shiny at the brotherly display.
“You go,” I tell her, but she vehemently shakes her head.
“No. You. I can watch from here.”
She puts her hands on the wheels and rolls herself to the large viewing window. I follow her and lean down.
“Sure?”
She smiles up at me.
“Yeah, go.”
I press a kiss to her forehead and turn to my brother, who is looking at me slack-jawed.
“No shit?”
Then he grins even wider at my casual shrug.
“About fucking time.”
Willa is sitting in a rocker when we walk in, a tiny bundle pressed against the skin of her upper chest.
“Meet Max.”
His face is a little splotchy, his little fist tucked under his chin, and his mouth open in a sleepy pout. He looks peaceful and comfortable in Willa’s arms.
I reach out a tentative finger, but Willa nods her encouragement. My God, so little, so vulnerable, and so soft.
“Let’s switch spots and you can hold him.”
“Fuck, no. What if I hurt him?”
She chuckles.
“You won’t. Now sit your ass down.”
She makes room for me and my stomach gets tight when she places that tiny human in my hands. Christ, he could fit in one of them.
“Put him against your chest, he likes listening to a heartbeat,” my brother suggests. “Just be careful of that big noggin of his, it tends to wobble.”
I curve a hand around the back of his head and carefully lay him down against my chest. The kid doesn’t even flinch, just as comfortable as he was with his mother.
My eyes drift to the window where I catch Bree wiping at her eyes. Willa follows my gaze and immediately walks out of the room.
“She okay?” Dimi asks.
Frankly, I don’t know, which bothers me a little. I can normally read her pretty well, but I saw that scar on her belly and if it means what I think it does, that might suggest this wasn’t such a great idea after all.
Ten minutes later, however, I’m the one behind the window with my brother, watching Willa place the baby in Bree’s arms and the smile almost cracks her face wide open.
“When can you bring him home?”
“If he does as well as he has the last twenty-four hours, he can come home tomorrow.”
I glance at Dimi.
“Are you ready for him?”
“He’s little, his needs are simple. We’ll borrow some stuff from Jake and Rosie, and the rest we’ll pick up and learn as we go along.”
I envy my brother his laid-back attitude. I imagine if I were in his shoes, I’d be running this like a structured operation. Pretty sure my brother’s way is better.
Not long after, we’re on our way to Bree’s place with an everything pizza smelling up my vehicle. As per usual, Bree dives right in as soon as I have her on the couch, eating straight from the box.
“Save some for me,” I tease, handing her a paper towel to wipe the tomato sauce off her chin.
I want to ask about her reaction at the hospital but decide to wait until after we eat. She’s more receptive on a full stomach.
Unfortunately, I don’t get the chance, because the doorbell rings just as I’m clearing away the empty box.
“Oh, I forgot,” Bree says. “Radar called, he and Hillary wanted to pop in and say hi.”
Great. There go my plans.
The first one through the door when I open it is that unsightly little dog of his, Phil. She pointedly ignores me and waddles straight to the couch on those stumpy legs. Bree bends over and lifts her on her lap, letting the dog lick her face.
“Come in,” I try to be gracious.
Either Radar doesn’t buy into it, judging from the grin on his face, or maybe he doesn’t care. He looks a lot like my brother did earlier.
Giving Hillary a kiss on the cheek, I take her coat. It’s been getting cooler at night.
I play host and make sure everyone has a drink, giving them a chance to catch up before I sit down beside Bree. I tuck an arm around her shoulder.
“Told ya,” Radar directs at a smiling Hillary.
“So you did. Are you gonna tell them or do you want me to?”
“I will.” Radar turns to us and that smile is back on his face.
I have a sneaky suspicion of what is coming and tuck Bree a little closer into my body.
“We wanted you to be the first to know. We’re pregnant.”
Bree’s body startles beside me.
Chapter Ten
Bree
“Oh my Goddess, Brianne! What happened to you?”
Mrs. Mazur fawns over me as Yanis carries me inside his house.
He played on my guilt to get me to come. Said his mom would be disappointed if I didn’t. I’m not sure how much he’s told them about the current situation, but I know he’s right about Anna.
Yanis and Dimi’s parents are relics from the flower-power days. I swear they haven’t even changed wardrobe since then. Big-hearted, peace-loving, pot-smoking, and without boundaries, it’s a miracle they managed to raise two badasses like the brothers.
Anna and Max also claim the roles of surrogate parents to anyone they deem worthy. Jake was claimed from a young age, but over the years they’ve claimed quite a few of us associated with PASS, treating us as their own.
As soon as Yanis sets me down on his sectional, I’m wrapped in Anna’s solid arms, a waft of patchouli and pot hitting my nose. They not only grow the stuff; they use it liberally. In joints, pipes, cookies, brownies. Hence the lingering scent. Something I’d normally pull my nose up at, but on Anna and Max it’s a comfortable smell. Familiar and warm.