Head Above Water (Nightshade MC Book 4) (33 page)

“Not yet, we really should, though. This is the birth certificate.” He tapped his fingers on the paper. “So, what are we going to name our daughter, hon? Just nothing too weird. And not Marilyn.”

“Marilyn was my first choice,” she replied playfully.

“What's your middle name?” he asked. “And I can't believe that I don't know this already.”

“I don't have a middle name, so you wouldn't have known. I had a saint name, Maria, but no. Maria Monroe sounds too cutesy.” Drea looked over as the door opened. The social worker was back, with a nurse and baby in tow.

Drea focused on the small pink bundle. She'd never been the type to go crazy over babies; most of them just looked smooshed or something for the first few weeks anyway. This little girl was just perfect, with a little bow mouth and wisps of brown hair escaping from beneath the gender-neutral yellow beanie she wore. “Look who I found,” Emma said with a smile. “Would you like to hold your daughter?”

Monroe rose to his feet, looked down at the bundle. “She's so small.”

“She's not going to break, sweetheart,” the nurse advised with a chuckle. “Just cradle her head and support her body and it'll be smooth sailing.”

Drea stifled a laugh as Monroe reached for the baby. The expression on his face was something close to fear. He was stiff at first; the baby stirred but settled down when he shifted his hold on her. “Look at her, hon. She's perfect.”

“Yes, she is.” She stepped closer to him for a better view. An ache bloomed inside of her, something completely unknown. “Can I hold her?”

“Of course,” Monroe replied, his voice soft. “Say hi to Mommy,” he cooed to the baby as he passed her over.

It had been a long time since she had held an infant, but she remembered how instinctively. In her arms, the baby shifted and opened her eyes. Drea feared that the baby would start crying but instead, it was like she looked right at her, right into her. Logically she knew that the baby had such blurry vision, she couldn't see anything, but still it felt like they were connecting, like it was a sign that they'd be okay. Tears blurred Drea's vision; she sniffled them back.

“You okay, hon?” Concern was obvious in Monroe's voice.

“I'm good, really good.” She continued to stare down at the baby. “I think that we should call her Kimberly. She looks like a Kimberly.”

“She does, doesn't she?” Monroe moved in close to her. “What do you say, Kimberly? You ready to go home?”

THE END