Chapter 16: CHAPTER 15

Cara- One year later

She has pretty blue eyes and they're widened in excitement.

Actually, her whole body seems excited.

Sitting in her high chair, she's flailing her arms in the air, her tiny fists pumping, as she swings her cute chubby legs. And don't even talk about the noises she's making.

I'm convinced that her laughter and her coos, her excited squealing can melt any heart in this world and fill all the empty spaces with joy.

But maybe that's just me because I'm her mommy.

To be honest though, my Daisy is the most joyous baby ever.

Like, she smiles at strangers. She waves at them. If someone waves back — which pretty much all of them do because hello, Diasy is adorable — she completely freaks out with happiness, practically dancing either in my arms or in her stroller.

Oh and she loves dogs. Puppies are her favorite in particular.

If she sees one in the park, we have to go and say hi. We have to pet him and let him lick our faces or our hands at least, and we have to tell him how much we love him.

Which I do obviously.

Because Daisy can't talk but she does tell me what to say.

She nods her head at me, which in Daisy talk means 'tell him that I love him.' If she's waving her little fists and squealing, then that means 'tell him he's the cutest puppy ever.' But if she also tries to get out of my arms to go crawling over to him, then that means 'tell him I wanna take him home.'

I keep telling Daisy that we can't take someone else's dog but she's yet to believe me on that.

So then we get into this whole mess where she cries and gets angry. Snot runs down her nose and she gets all red-faced, breaking my little mommy heart.

But you know, kids need to learn that they can't get their way every time they cry and throw a tantrum.

Even though it's super hard when my baby girl's voice has gone all hoarse from crying and she looks at me with accusing eyes, I try to stay stern.

Not someone else though, no.

Someone else is a complete sucker.

Oh God, is he a sucker.

A slight tremble on her rosy lips and his frown comes out to play. If she points her finger at a toy in the store, he lunges to get it off the shelf. In case someone else gets their hand on it.

Even though we can clearly see that they have that toy in stock, like tens of them sitting on that shelf.

And God forbid if a tear rolls down her pink cheeks, his wrath will not be contained. He'll pace and stomp and won't settle down until his Daisy girl has what she wants.

And so after a long, long debate and discussion, we're giving her a puppy. Because as I said, he's a sucker and tomorrow's my baby girl's first birthday.

Of course, she doesn't know that.

Not about the birthday — I think she knows. I've told it to her a million times now and I think she totally understands me. But about the puppy.

It's supposed to be a surprise.

The one who can't see his Daisy girl cry, her daddy, is going to pick it up after work.

Anyway in this moment, my baby's excitement is due to something else altogether.

It's because we're baking. And Daisy loves baking as well.

She has to be present in the kitchen when I bake. She has to sit in that high chair and help me put the butter in the mixing bowl and measure out cups of sugar, add in a pinch of salt and everything.

And every time she does, we have little high fives.

But her favorite part is frosting.

I think she loves the colors. The brighter, the better.

And so I'm leaning across the island, flipping pages of an amazing baking recipe book that I found online, showing her all the pretty colors that she wants to see.

They have some elaborate decorations on their cupcakes. I'm an amateur baker; I can't do all that but I at least know how to whip up some amazing shades so I'm asking her: "Okay, this one?"

Her answer is to chew on her teething ring we bought her a few months back when her first teeth started to come in and she was miserable, she still loves it, and scrunch her nose.

"Hmm... so not this one then." I flip the page and show her a pretty green cake. "What about this one?" I ask excitedly. "How green it is. Look! So pretty. Like Mommy's dress. See?"

I'm wearing a light green sundress with white flowers that she sees but instantly dismisses by shaking her head and making protesting noises.

"What? You don't like Mommy's dress?" I pout and she shakes her head again.

Narrowing my eyes at her, which only makes her giggle and chew on her toy, I say: "All right, girlfriend, I'll remember this. I'll remember what you said about Mommy's dress. But for now we need to figure this thing out. We need to figure out what to color those cupcakes we made for Daddy and..."

I stop talking because that just gets her to another level of excitement, Daddy.

He's not the only one crazy about his Daisy girl actually. She's crazy about him too.

You can't say 'Daddy' in front of her, without her getting super excited. She'll flap her chubby arms, wiggle her tiny body and laugh and chuckle and squeal, fill the room with her happiness and joy at the mention of him.

Like she's doing right now.

And she'll say random baby syllables. "Da da... Da da da..."

"I know," I say, leaning further over to nuzzle my nose in her sweet smelling hair. "We made cupcakes for Daddy. He's gonna love it, right?"

She wiggles her little body even more, opening and closing her fists, as if calling for him. "Da da... da da..."

I kiss her cheek. "Aww, I know. I miss him too. He'll be back soon though. And then you can tell him all about your day. About how you made cookies with Mommy earlier and your birthday cake. And how we went to the park in the morning and when we came back, we picked out our outfit for tomorrow's birthday party." I widen my eyes and she does it too. "And oh my God, it's so pretty, right? It's pink!"

More random baby syllables and nodding.

I nod too to show her how excited I am, which I totally am. Because it is a cute outfit. It's a frilly tutu-style dress and I got my baby some cute little pointe shoes to go with them.

Along with her love of baking and puppies and her daddy, Daisy loves ballet too.

She loves to watch me dance. Sometimes I'll do a twirl just to make her laugh. She especially loves it when I don the whole costume, leotard and tutu.

"Yeah, it is," I continue, talking to her excitedly. "It's pink and it's pretty and it's so cute. Just like Halo. And my Daisy's gonna look like a little ballerina tomorrow, right?"

She keeps nodding and I kiss her cheek again, making her laugh.

"Okay, but we need to focus, honey, all right?" I tell her. "We need to pick out a color for Daddy's cupcakes before he gets here, okay? So I can make it all pretty for him and we can surprise him later."

At this, Daisy jerks out a nod, completely getting my meaning and going serious so she can pick out a color for her daddy.

And of course, she picks out her favorite color for him.

I shake my head at myself.

Because duh, I should've known. My precious baby thinks that the whole world loves what she loves. Anyway, I spend the next hour, making the frosting, putting it on cupcakes and getting the surprise ready for him.

I'm putting everything away, when I hear it.

The screech of the tires.

Followed by the typical bang of his car door shutting and then my favorite sound in the world, his thumping footsteps, bounding over the porch stairs before he clicks the door open.

Through all this, my heart is racing.

He still does that to me.

His arrival. His impending nearness. The fact that I'll get to see him in maybe about five seconds. The fact that he'll be deliciously rumpled and sexily worn out after his long day at the rink.

My thoughts break when he at last appears at the threshold of the kitchen.

All tall and burly, in his navy blue shirt. His hair, which he keeps sort of long-ish because I love it that way, is rumpled and his beautiful V-shaped jaw is covered in stubble that still irritates him. Even after I've spent hours and days, licking it and kissing it and caressing it.

And his eyes, wolfish and pretty, are on me. As always.

Smiling, I bite my lip and they glint and I can't wait to properly welcome him back home.

But I'll have to. Just a little bit.

Because there's someone else who wants to welcome him home first.

The little girl we accidentally made together on a night almost two years ago. Who's just as excited as I am at the arrival of the man she loves, her daddy.

The only difference is that she's going all out to show how happy she is to see him by squealing in her high chair and flailing her arms.

As soon as his eyes land on Daisy, my whole body sighs and my thighs clench because I'm about to see the most beautiful thing in the world.

The thing that's going to make me fall in love with him all over again.

First, it's his eyes.

Those pretty eyes of his melt and his ruby red lips stretch up in a small but tender smile. Then, he goes to her and bending down slightly, he picks her up in his arms, his biceps flexing under the sleeves of his overall.

And then, he says, in a voice that's so deep and smooth and so fond that my skin wakes up in goosebumps. "Hey, princess Daisy. I missed you."

Okay, I was wrong.

This is my favorite sound in the whole wide world.

When he talks to her in that soothing voice of his.

God, I don't even know how many times he's been able to calm her down by just talking to her like that. Or managed to put her to sleep on the nights when she's fussy and won't listen to me at all. And I'm so tired and irritable that I don't know what to do.

Sometimes I envy him that, the magical powers he has.

But right now, I'm totally falling for them. Just as my baby girl.

Because at his voice, she laughs and squeals again, kicking her chubby legs at his chest and clapping, making him chuckle and kiss her forehead.

But the show's not over yet.

The next part is my favorite part. Even though I always roll my eyes at it.

Daisy raises her arm then, tugs on her hair barrette — this one's white and shaped like a daisy — and gives it to him. Which he dutifully takes from her small hands. Before he sets her down on the island, her legs dangling off the edge, and combs her dark hair with his large, beautiful fingers, putting it back on.

She nods at him. Like this is such serious business, putting a hair barrette on, and he nods back like he agrees.

Like how Mommy did it before was wrong and only Daddy knows how to do it.

I'm about to roll my eyes at their cuteness when he looks up.

He smirks at me and I narrow my eyes at him, mouthing, I hate you.

Which only makes him chuckle and wink, meaning, No, you don't.

Ugh.

No, I don't. I can't hate him. I've never been able to. And these days, he's even more irresistible with how playful and amazing he is with Daisy.

Who wants his attention back on her so she waves her hand in his face, tapping his jaw and addressing him in random syllables. He picks her back up and with a last heated look at me, he takes her into the living room like he always does.

He's going to play with her for a bit, keep her occupied so I can work on dinner in peace. It's a routine we came up with in the beginning of this whole parenting thing, which I think is working out great for the most part.

Before coming to me.

Which he does about thirty minutes later.

I feel an arm sliding around my waist and his hard body settling against my back. I close the tap where I was washing the lettuce for the salad. Wiping my hands, I raise my arm and caress his stubble, sagging against him.

It's my turn now.

"Hi." I whisper, smelling his delicious scent of woods and wildflowers.

Spicy and masculine and so freaking sexy.

Aidan hums, rubbing his jaw in my hair as he takes a breath, his chest undulating against my spine. Like breathing my scent calms him. It calms me too.

Knowing that I give it to him.

"Did you bring it?" I whisper, talking about the puppy, burying my fingers in his thick stubble.

"Yeah."

"Is it cute?"

A puff of air escapes him. "Fuck knows. Jake liked it though. He'll bring it over tomorrow, at the party."

"I'm so happy they're finally pregnant."

Ella is currently twelve weeks pregnant with her first baby!

I tilt my neck up, my fingers clutching his sleeves at his biceps because there he is.

The love of my life. My hero.

"You're such a sucker for Daisy."

His narrow. "And why's that?"

"Because you got her a puppy."

"And?"

"I don't know if you know this, Aidan, but you don't have to give her everything she wants. You can say no to her."

"Why would I say no to her when I want to give her everything she wants?"

He looks so outraged right now. Like the thought of not giving Daisy something is offensive to him and it makes me chuckle.

It also makes me go up on my tiptoes to kiss his jaw. "That's the very definition of a sucker actually."

That's when he grabs my braid, pulling my head back, making my breaths scatter. He even goes so far as to press his hard body against my soft one and sighing, I sink myself into his harsh places.

He shudders and I shiver. Something that happens every time we touch and align ourselves with each other after a long day.

Keeping a firm grip on me, he flicks his eyes over my features. "You okay?"

God.

Sometimes I think he wants to kill me. That's why he does this, doesn't he?

That's why even when he's holding me captive like this, he has to go all protective over me and ask me about my day. He has to melt me with his mean fingers and tender voice.

He used to do this, ask me about my day, look me over to make sure that I was okay, back when I was pregnant.

He still does this.

Because pregnant or not, I'm precious to him.

I'm the love of his life. Just like he is mine.

"Yeah," I whisper, looking him over myself, looking at the tired but happy lines around his eyes and his gorgeous mouth.

"Daisy was okay too?"

"Yes. It was a fun day. We went to the park. We prepped for the party. Daisy loves her outfit for tomorrow."

"That's awesome, baby."

Then: "So I'm a sucker, huh. For bringing Daisy a puppy."

I nod. "Yup."

"Or maybe you're just jealous."

I frown. "Why would I be jealous?"

He flexes his grip on my hair. "Because I brought a present. For a girl."

"And?"

Smirking, he replies, "And that girl is not you."

I raise my eyebrows at him and his smirk only becomes more devilish.

Just to be a brat, I bite my lip. "Well, you got me. I am jealous. Because I thought I was your main girl."

"My main girl."

"For the rest of our lives."

"Until the end of time."

His jaw clenches with emotion and I can't help but whisper, "I love you, Aidan."

He swallows. "I fucking love you too, Cara."

At last, he bends all the way down and I stretch myself all the way up so we can kiss after a long, long day of being apart.

Because this is my life now, see?

This wonderful, lovely life where I get to kiss my villain whenever I want. Where I get to tell him i love him. Where he'll take my clothes off and kiss every inch of my skin. Even though I'm not the same after the pregnancy. I've got ugly stretch marks.

But it won't matter to him.

Because it's him and he still kisses my belly like it carries precious life.

For now though, we'll eat dinner.

Later, Daisy and I will show him the surprise we made for him — cupcakes with 'Daisy + Mommy loves Daddy' spelled out in pink frosting.

Which I know he's going to love.

I also know that he's going to choke up a little like he always does when Daisy and I make him something. Like he thinks he doesn't deserve it.

But it's okay.

I'll keep making him things until he believes it.

It will be bath time for Daisy then. Which is all handled by Aidan because she won't let anyone do this but him, not even Mommy. Followed by story time, which Aidan is in charge of again.

And then I'll get to witness another beautiful thing: Daisy sleeping on a bare chested and drowsy Aidan.

When I've had my fill of watching the two loves of my life, we'll put her in her crib, and I'll drag him to our bedroom.

And as I said, this is our wonderful and gorgeous life.