A Bossy Roommate (Next Door to a Billionaire #2)

38. Eden

His handsome smiling face hovers above mine, tears in his eyes as the nurse places our daughter on my chest.

I barely remember the labor—that’s what I try to tell myself. At a certain point, your body goes into autopilot, and you lose focus of everything.

“I don’t care, just give me something !” I hissed between contractions. They gave me a shot of painkillers. Thank God for that. By the time my doctor came in, I’d already started pushing.

Our daughter was delivered safely, and that’s all that matters.

“Baby, she’s beautiful.” Carter kisses my sweaty forehead and reaches out to lay his hand on our baby’s back.

She’s gorgeous, even with her scrunched up, annoyed expression. Like she’s pissed we’ve interrupted her sleep. Actually, she looks exactly like Carter when she does that, and it makes me laugh through my happy tears. When I tell Carter my observation, he laughs out so loud I think the whole hospital hears him.

“That’s my girl,” he rumbles, looking at her, prouder than a bean stick.

After we’re both cleaned up and settled in our recovery room, Carter pulls a chair over and sits as close as he can.

“Do you want to hold her?” I ask.

He nods, his eyes wide like a deer in the headlights. It’s so rare for him to be out of his element that my heart, which is already a puddle of goo, melts even more. I put the baby in his arms, showing him how to properly support her head.

Seeing them together takes my breath away.

If I hadn’t witnessed it for myself, I would have had a hard time believing the man sitting there making cooing noises at our baby is the same grouchy man I met at that ice cream shop nearly a year ago. The same man who’d sworn up and down he’d never have kids and yet, had been ecstatic when he’d learned I was pregnant.

“You can relax, babe,” I say with a chuckle, reaching out to rub his shoulder. “She’s not made of glass. You aren’t going to break her.”

“She’s so little,” he comments, looking at me with those big brown eyes of his. “I’ve never seen something so tiny before.”

“That’s because you have massive arms,” I say, affectionately squeezing his muscles.

He gives me a kiss, then looks back at our daughter. “I never realized how much love you can have for someone you just met.”

“I know exactly what you mean.” My smile is permanent by this point, and I lean back against my pillows. I love that little girl more than I’ve loved anything. The moment my eyes landed on her it was like something clicked.

“It’s like all the puzzle pieces of my life have fallen into place,” he says, “and I know I’ll do anything to keep her happy, safe, and loved.”

That .

The door to my room opens and my sister comes in first, followed quickly by Hattie and Eleanor.

“Hey, sis,” Diane says, coming over to my side and smoothing my hair back. She leans closer so she can look down at her niece. “She’s soso beautiful. She reminds me so much of you, Eden,” she says, with tears in her eyes. “Wow, the resemblance is uncanny.”

“Really? I think she looks exactly like her father,” I say. “You should have seen her scrunched up face when the doctor held her up.”

“Let me guess,” Aunt Eleanor pipes up. “She looked pissed at the world. That runs in our family,” she says proudly. “I remember the doctor holding you up, Cartie, and I asked if babies always looked that mad.”

Everyone laughs and the low rumbling of our closest loved ones makes me unbelievably happy. My sister holds our baby close to her chest, humming a lullaby she used to sing to me when I was little. Eleanor stands by her side, her arm around her shoulders as they gaze at the baby together. I have the mental image of Carter and me, gray-haired and smiling, doing the same thing one day.

When the baby is nestled in Eleanor’s arms, she asks, “What’s her name?”

“Her name is Ellie,” Carter says.

“You named my great-niece after me?” Aunt Eleanor looks at us with tears in her eyes.

“That, my dears, is the most impeccable choice, in my humble opinion,” Hattie says.

“Oh, so I see you and Carter have realized that greatness should be passed down through generations,” Eleanor says, beaming. “I must have left quite an impression on you, mes chéris . Let the legacy of greatness continue!”

After everybody has shared their love and congratulations and told us how much they want to stay with us to help with the baby—to coo over and spoil her—the four file out to give us time to bond. I’m exhausted. I can feel my eyelids drooping as Carter takes Ellie in his arms again.

“Rest, babe,” he urges, leaning back in his seat. “I’ve got her. You don’t need to worry about anything.”

Reaching over, I squeeze his hand. “I know I don’t. Not with you around.”

Settling into my bed, I let the urge to sleep overtake me, and when I close my eyes, the last thing I see is Carter pressing a soft kiss to our daughter’s head.