Page 138 of Taken In Trade
“Love you too,” she says, her contentment spilling into the bond. “God, what is breastfeeding doing to me? I swear, if Magnum doesn’t hurry back with my food, I might actually eat someone’s face off. I deserveallthe cheeseburgers.”
“That, you do,” I agree. “Would you like me to run down to the cafeteria or check the vending machines?”
Hawk stepped out to call his mom, but he’ll be back soon. If my hands weren’t full, I’d text him to stop at the nurse’s station to ask for the snacks the nurse mentioned they keep on hand for just this kind of emergency.
“No, let’s pray Mag gets back soon. I don’t want to risk both of them crying as soon as I’m alone,” Vanessa says, running her finger over Arkadiy’s cheek. “Two babies at once is twice as terrifying.”
“We’ll manage just fine, and luckily, you have three of us to split shifts.” I study Luca’s face as he pushes his lips together.
It is scary, but it’s also exciting.
I can’t wait to see what the future holds for the six of us.
Epilogue
Hawk
Another Three Years Later
The boys run around the living room, causing pure chaos. I’m just contemplating if I’ll be able to sweet-talk them into a nap. We try to get them to at least lie down and rest, but most days, we get lucky and they knock out.
Pregnancy with rambunctious twin toddlers is an entirely different experience than the first go-round.
Vanessa is radiant, and the pregnant belly makes me rock-hard, but my wife is clearly exhausted.
She’s six months along with another set of twins. This time it’s girls and they’re fraternal. Theoretically, one of us could have fertilized both eggs, or the girls could have different fathers.
That’s a mindfuck.
Being biologically related to the kids doesn't matter to me a bit.
Arkadiy and Luca likely belong to Magnum or Moretti. The boys kept the blond hair they were born with, but it's lightened with age. That could be due to the fact they spend so much time playing in the yard.
It’s always a possibility that they’re biologically mine. Though I doubt it. They don’t have any of my features.
I’m sure Vanessa’s DNA would help offset mine, but I know I’m an ugly motherfucker. I would never wish my genetics on the girls, so I hope one of the others lucked out with fertilizing their eggs.
No matter who their father is, I hope the girls end up looking just like Vanessa. She deserves at least one of the kids to be her mini-me.
My wife sits on the couch next to me, resting her head on my shoulder.
I bring my hand to her stomach, giving the babies a tender rub. This entire pregnancy has been the opposite of the boys’, since she’s always on the go, chasing after them.
“How about I watch the boys while you run up and take a nap?” I offer.
“I wish you could sleep with me,” she says around a yawn.
“We could get a nanny to come for a few hours every afternoon. That way, I’ll be free to snuggle up with you for your daily nap.” I’ll be shocked if she agrees.
We’ve brought up the idea multiple times, but I know how much she worries about passing off the boys’ care to anyone. She wants to be present and parent them herself, which I get. Hell, I barely leave the house anymore, and if I do, it’s because I’m responsible for Vanessa’s security.
Magnum has mostly taken over as Moretti’s number two, and I don’t have even an ounce of resentment. I was built to be a stay-at-home dad.
The only downside is that I can’t be in two places at once—watching the boys and cuddling with her.
She’s busy baking not one but two human beings, and having one of our scents close helps to settle her instincts.
“It might not be a bad idea,” Vanessa says. “We can’t just count on your mom while I’m in the hospital. I mean, I know she said she would watch them, and Angel offered to help, but they never stop moving. It’s probably smart to get them used to someone now, so they won't freak out later on.”
