He tried, latched on, and then lost it.
She enticed him again, and this time, it seemed to work.
“Very good,” said the nurse. “You’re a natural.”
Roark stood beside her and watched her nurse. “I’m so proud of you. You gave birth to him like he was your tenth child, not your first.”
Her eyes widened and her brows went up. “I am not having ten children. If you insist on that many kids, we’ll adopt.”
He laughed. “I’m not proposing you have that many children. I suggest we see how we do with this little mite before we plan on having more.”
She let out a breath and relaxed. “Thank you. You had me worried for a moment.”
“No worries, my love. We’ll take all this slow and learn as we go. We have outstanding teachers in our parents. I’m sure they will be more than happy to answer any questions we have.”
“That’s true. We are so blessed. I love you, Roark Sullivan.”
“I love you, too, Jessica Sullivan. Forever.”
“And a day.” She pulled him down for a kiss that was punctuated by a tiny cry.
“I think he wants to be involved.” She lifted him and kissed one cheek.
Roark kissed the baby’s other cheek.
And then they kissed each other.
The happiest family.
In Denver, an old Romany woman laughed with glee.