Chapter Twenty-Four

   Three Years Later

   “Quinn Frieda Billie Crow,” I say out loud, looking at the little bundle in my arms. She might not be of our blood, but I love her just like I would my own, and have since the moment I found out we were going to be adopting her. “She’s so cute, Crow. I can’t even deal right now.”

   “I know,” Crow agrees, kissing the bottom of her little foot. “She’s perfect.”

   I did end up having to have a hysterectomy about eighteen months ago. I wasn’t ready to give up my dream of being a mother, especially when Crow and I got married soon after Jasper was sentenced. It was my dream outdoor wedding, to my dream man, and I always knew that we would expand our little family somehow. Adoption ended up being the option we went with. We applied as soon as I had my surgery, knowing it could take some time. Crow was on board from the beginning, and he has never held it against me for me being unable to give him a biological child, or ever made me feel any less of a woman.

   I love him for that. He has been so amazing through the whole thing, so patient and open to all options and avenues.

   When we contacted an adoption agency, we were told it would be a long process. We were lucky enough that a young mother chose us to be the parents of her beautiful little girl. We saw Quinn’s birth, something I will never forget, and now we get to take her home. Molly, Quinn’s biological mother, wanted a closed adoption, and we’ve given her that. I know the time will come when Quinn will get older and want answers, and I need to prepare myself for that, but for right now, we get to raise this beautiful little girl as our own. I’ve never loved anyone more.

   It’s crazy how life can change. I couldn’t be happier right now, with my dream man and a beautiful daughter of my own.

   Crow kisses me and then opens his arms. “Are you going to share her?”

   “I guess,” I grumble, handing her over to him. “I’m just so in love with her, it’s hard to even let her out of my arms.”

   “I know exactly what you mean,” he says to her in a baby voice. “You are going to be so loved, little Quinn.”

* * *

   Abbie and Temper drop in that evening, and Temper gives me a stack of money as a baby present. “You don’t have to give me money, Temper,” I say, looking to Crow. “That’s a lot of money. You know a card or something would have been fine.”

   He waves his arm. “This is a Knight baby, and we’re all going to make a big deal. Use the money for whatever you want. Start a bank account for her. Take her to Disneyland. Whatever.”

   “Disneyland?” I repeat, laughing. “I’d love to take her to Disneyland Paris one day. This would cover the trip.”

   “There you go. Perfect,” he replies, grinning.

   “You know Abbie already bought us a lot of stuff and wouldn’t take the money for it.”

   “There will be plenty more coming,” Abbie adds, slowly rocking Quinn.

   “She looks good with a baby,” I say to Temper, arching my brow. “A little too good.”

   “I was thinking the same thing,” Temper replies, rubbing the back of his neck.

   Abbie’s cheeks start to redden. “Calm down there, let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”

   Temper holds Quinn next, and he looks so awkward I can’t help but laugh. However, the big, burly man is so gentle with her. It’s adorable to watch.

   After Abbie and Temper leave, Nadia and Cam drop in, and then my uncle. Once they’re all gone we order in some food and brace ourselves for Night Two with a newborn. When Crow suggests I have a little me time, I take a long, relaxing bath, using my new Baby Yoda bath bomb, closing my eyes and thinking about how goddamn wonderful my life is right now.

   When the water turns cold I get out of the bath, dress in some pajamas and find Crow and Quinn in the living room. She’s asleep on his chest and he’s watching reruns of Supernanny on TV.

   “Taking notes?” I ask, smirking.

   “Actually, I am. Our daughter is going to be nothing like these little kids,” he proclaims, wincing as a little girl hits her mom. “Yeah, there’ll be none of that. She’s going to show respect and not be a little brat.”

   I sit down next to him. “You know all toddlers are naughty, though, right?”

   “Yeah, but there’s naughty and then there’s that,” he says, pointing at the screen with the remote. “Does this time-out thing really work?”

   Feeling amused, I watch him freak out a little at all things parenting. “We’ll be fine, Crow. And so will she.”

   “With you as her mother, I have no doubt,” he says, turning his head to look at me. “And with her beauty, I’m also probably going to end up in prison at some point, but you know what? I was probably headed there anyway.”

   Shaking my head at him, I can’t help but laugh at that. “No one is going to prison. We need you here.”

   Quinn starts to fuss, so I take her to change and feed her, letting Crow have a little time to himself. Is this what parenting is? Tag teaming so much you barely see each other or get to spend any time together or do anything as a couple?

   No wonder only the strong survive.

   “But you, miss, are an angel sent from heaven,” I say, smelling her. “And you smell so good.”

   She holds on to my thumb with her little fingers.

   I don’t care if she keeps me up all night for the rest of my life.

   She is so worth it.

* * *

   “Crow, can you take your daughter, please? She pooped again,” I grumble, my voice thick with sleep.

   “So now she’s my daughter?” he asks, laughing to himself. “Come here, Quinn, let me change you.”

   “I never realized how much I was taking sleep for granted before this,” I say with my eyes closed. It’s been a week since I had a good night of it. “Broken sleep should be considered a reason to not have to go into work. It feels like shit.”

   “Go back to sleep, Bronte, I have her,” he says, and I don’t need to be told twice. I fall asleep instantly, and when I wake up again the sun is shining.

   Forcing myself out of bed, I head to the nursery where Quinn is fast asleep in her crib, while Crow is out in the living room.

   Doing push-ups.

   Shirtless.

   He has a sheen of sweat covering his body, and I find my lips suddenly feeling a little dry. Here I am, looking like crap, and he’s still looking like a Greek god first thing in the morning.

   “Good morning,” I say, enjoying the view. “Are you doing this on purpose? Because you’re not really playing fair right now.”