Coyotes Ever After (Colorado Coyotes #7)

Chapter 9

CHAPTER NINE

ONE YEAR LATER

Cam

“Oh, Tess.” I look up from my four-month-old nephew Ryland’s face to meet my sister’s eyes. “He’s an angel. Are you sure he’s Dom’s?”

She rolls her eyes and takes a cloth from Ryland’s diaper bag, leaning over to wipe a little drool from the corner of his mouth. “You’ve seen the side-by-side photos. There’s no doubt this is Dom’s son.”

“Well, keep trying. Maybe the next one won’t be.”

I love my brother-in-law. No one else better make fun of him in front of me, but Tess and I get a free pass. He feels the same way about me.

Tess cackles at that. “Dom’s getting snipped next month. They couldn’t get him in any sooner. So I’ve only been allowing oral until then because I would literally lose my mind if I got pregnant again.”

“He must be thrilled.”

“You should hear him whine about it. It’s like having two babies.”

“Did I hear something about whining?” My husband Rowan walks into the room. “You must be talking about Dominic J. Locke.”

Tess stands up to hug Rowan. She and Dom flew into Chicago, our home since Rowan got traded to the Chicago Blaze four years ago. My youngest two sons, Max and Oliver, come racing in behind Rowan. They’re just getting home from youth hockey practice.

“You look great,” Rowan tells Tess.

“Hey now,” I tease.

Tess laughs and waves. “He means great for a woman who had a baby four months ago. I’d die for your Orange Theory body.”

“I mean, there’s a day care. Working out is actually a lot easier than taking care of five kids.”

Rowan comes over and kisses me, then steals our new nephew.

“Hey, big guy.” He cradles him and I swear my ovaries start quivering.

We’re done having kids, but there’s something about seeing my husband holding a baby and remembering him holding our kids as newborns that gives me major baby fever.

“Aunt Tess!” Max, who is five, hugs Tess and gives her a sweet smile. “Do you have any candy?”

I answer for her. “No candy. Uncle Dom and Mae went to pick up pizza.”

“Yeah, kids,” Rowan quips. “Eat your nutritious pizza before the candy.”

I shrug. “I mean...there’s tomato sauce?”

Somewhere around kid number four, I stopped worrying about getting a balanced meal on the table every night. Now I just make sure there’s a meal, and it’s carryout a couple times a week.

Our youngest son, Ollie, has developmental delays and he goes to therapy three times a week. He doesn’t talk a lot, but he absolutely loves ice skating with Rowan. He’s one of the peewee players who’s just learning to skate, and it’s been incredible to find something he loves.

Mae is six and she’s Ollie’s biggest champion. She reads to him and often lies next to him at night to help him fall asleep.

Sam and Tate are somehow almost seventeen. Rowan and I take turns taking them on college visits so one of us can be home with the other kids, and it makes me teary-eyed every time. In my eyes, they’re still little boys with sticky hands, shoving toys down the toilet and drawing me pictures of our family with hearts on them. In reality, though, they can both drive, they work part-time jobs and they can grow facial hair.

It helps to have a four-year-old nephew to love on. Rowan did all the parenting alone for a week when Tess was due with Ryland so I could be there when she went into labor. The house looked like a tornado had touched down inside when I got home, but I didn’t mind. I got to be there with my sister and my kids were loved and cared for.

“Hey, baby hog.” I give my husband a look and open my arms.

He passes Ryland back to me, his brows lowered in a serious look. “Just don’t get any ideas.”

“Uh-huh.” I take the baby back and he wrinkles his face and starts fussing, so I gently rock him.

“When will Sam and Tate be home?” Tess asks.

“Who knows?” Rowan says. “They show up when they’re hungry, or they need to sleep.”

Rowan retired two years ago, but the twins were already so settled in and happy here that we decided to stay until they finished high school. We plan to move back to Denver then to be closer to Tess, Dom and several of Rowan’s former teammates.

Dom and Mae come through the garage door into the kitchen, Dom carrying a tall stack of pizza boxes.

“Whoa, how many pizzas is that?” I ask, walking into the kitchen.

“Nine. One with pepperoni and extra cheese for my favorite sister-in-law.”

Dom sets down the boxes, grinning when he spots Rowan. They bro hug, clapping each other on the back.

“What’s with the face fuzz, man?” Dom asks.

Rowan strokes a hand over his beard. “You jealous?”

“Yeah, a little. When I try to grow a beard, I look like a walking mugshot.”

“Uncle Dom, can we play video games?” Max asks, his hands clasped in front of him in a begging motion.

“That’s up to your parents.”

Max turns to Rowan with the pleading hands. “Please, Dad?”

Rowan grins. “We’ll see.”

“That means no,” Mae says smartly.

Max’s face falls. “Does it?”

It usually does. Mae’s a quick study. Rowan had developed a habit of telling the kids to ask me instead of him when they wanted something so he never had to be the bad guy. I talked to him about it and he’s trying to do better.

“Is your room clean?” I ask Max.

He gives me a wide-eyed look, wanting to say yes, but knowing if he does, I’ll go check.

Last time Dom and Tess came, Rowan and Dom played video games all night long, like they used to. Max made it until eleven p.m. and thought it was the best night of his life. We usually limit the kids’ screen time.

This time, though, I’m not sure Dom will want to be up all night playing video games when he and Tess are taking care of Ryland.

I still can’t believe those two have a baby. But the way they both cried when he was born, I know it was meant to be. Tess sends me sweet photos of Dom and Ryland all the time. Ryland curls up on Dom’s chest while Dom’s sitting in his recliner, his legs pulled up beneath him and both of them asleep. My favorite picture is the two of them sleeping in Dom and Tess’s bed, Ryland’s arms above his head.

I kiss the top of my nephew’s soft head, walking him around the house while Dom and Tess eat. When I make it back to the kitchen, Rowan has Max and Ollie both on his lap, one on each leg.

He’s letting Ollie feed him all the toppings off of his pizza. It’s one of his things; he loves feeding us the food he doesn’t want to eat. Rowan’s concentrating on whatever Dom’s talking about, nodding and opening his mouth as Ollie brings a pepperoni up to it.

With an arm around each boy, he can’t eat any pizza himself. We’ll both end up eating when everyone else is done. I love his patience and selflessness. Holding both boys and letting Ollie feed him means peace. And peace is everything in this house.

Ollie used to have meltdowns because he was so frustrated about not being able to communicate with us. Speech and occupational therapy have helped. Even when things were at their worst and we were exhausted from Ollie not sleeping well, Rowan has been my rock. He didn’t ask me if I wanted him to hire someone to clean the house; he just did it. He arranges a weekly date night for us every week without fail.

Sometimes, because of our kids’ schedules, date night ends up being on a Monday, but on that night, Rowan sets up a babysitter, dinner for the babysitter and the kids, and a dinner reservation for the two of us.

That night alone means everything. Our marriage is the foundation our family is built on, and we both want to keep it strong.

Ryland starts fussing and Tess shoves the rest of a piece of pizza into her mouth and gets up to take him.

“He’s hungry,” she says after finishing her food.

I meet Rowan’s gaze. “You want to eat?”

“No, you eat, babe. I’m good.”

He has to be so hungry. I don’t think he’s had time to eat anything today, between picking up our grocery order this morning and going right to hockey with the boys.

When he winks at me, my stomach flutters. I don’t think he’ll ever stop having that effect on me.

It took me a long time to find him, but I found the best and he was so worth the wait.