And then . . . the cry of a boy pierced through the room, and tears immediately hit us. They held him above the barrier, and we both held on to each other while looking at our son for the first time.
After he was cleaned and wrapped up, they brought him over to us while Penny was being stitched up.
I’ll always remember Penny’s speech about love, how it grows and intensifies, starting as a kernel and turning into something so much bigger than you can imagine. With our son, it was different. It was like a tsunami of love just tackled my heart in a matter of seconds. One look at his tiny face, and I was done.
Love at first sight . . . just like his mom. But this time, I actually knew what that feeling was.
Now that we’re in our room, Mama is doing great, baby is latched on, and I’m cradled in next to my family . . .
Fuck, my family.
It’s been so long since I could claim such a notion. But here I am, sitting next to my girl—my soon-to-be wife hopefully, if I have any say in it—and my son, and I couldn’t feel more whole.
Fulfilled.
Life is funny. You never really know what you’re missing until you get a taste of something good. I got a taste of what it felt like to be wanted, to be a part of something bigger than myself, and there was no turning back for me. Once a player, now a father, a man so far in fucking love with his girl that I can’t dream up a situation where I’m not one of the luckiest guys on this planet.
“He looks like you,” Penny says softly as she raises her hand to the back of my neck. “He looks just like you, Eli.”
“He does,” I say, getting choked up. “I can only hope he has your heart.”
“Funny, I hope he has yours.” She leans back and presses a soft, gentle kiss to my lips. “I love you,” she whispers.
“I love you, too.” There’s a knock on the door, and Pacey and Winnie quietly walk in with balloons and flowers. Right behind them are Posey, Taters, Blakely . . . then Holmes.
And there they are, my support system. The people who first taught me about loyalty and dependability. The guys who have been there for me through thick and thin, my second family. This is what it’s all about. This right here, the love in this room, is overwhelming, and it only took a moment for me to recognize it.
“Hey,” I say quietly. “Do you guys want to meet our son?”
They all nod.
I kiss Penny’s forehead and move aside, giving them a view of my sweet baby son with his beautiful mama. God, I love her. And him. “Meet Holden Hornsby,” I say, my eyes falling on Holmes, whose eyes are lit up with tears. “We thought the name should live on.”
And it does.
The name lives on to be one of the greatest there is.
Our son will be great because he’ll know unconditional love from his first breath to his last. He’ll be given hugs and never believe they make him weak. He will never be discarded, but affirmed and believed in.
And he will know those things because of the incredible woman beside me. The woman who persisted and didn’t give up on me until I fully understood what love meant. A woman who is quirky, cute, and sexy. A woman who never stopped believing that one day I’d be able to say those three little words that are true game changers. Words I now live by. Forever.
Keep reading for an excerpt from Pacey and Winnie’s story, Kiss and Don’t Tell.
Also, do you want a sneak peek of Meghan's upcoming October release RUNAWAY GROOMSMAN? Keep reading to the end.
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Excerpt - Kiss and Don’t Tell
Prologue
PACEY
Man, I’m a fucking idiot.
Bet you haven’t heard that from a man before . . .
Yeah, every man on the face of this earth has uttered those sacred words at least a dozen times.
I’ve been a fucking idiot so many times, I’ve lost count.
But this . . .
This is by far the biggest screwup I’ve ever made.
Oh, you’re intrigued? You want to know what qualifies this particular situation as my biggest screwup?
Easy.
One word . . . love.
Okay, okay, I know I’m not the only guy who’s fucked up when it comes to love. Frankly, I believe it’s human nature to fuck up with matters of the heart. But it’s my first time. That’s what makes this so special.
Yup, first-timer.
A virgin . . . well, not a sexual virgin, a love virgin. I’ve had plenty of sex. Not that we need to get into that, but I’m not a virgin.
See, this is the problem. This right here. The rambling, the not using my brain. I would like to blame my almost season-ending injury, but that would be a scapegoat. I’m just a dumbass.