by Susan Meier
Bev laughed. “Who’d have thought you’d break down at something as simple as a birth?”
Max hadn’t thought it. But he should have. He should have realized this would hit his mom hard. She might not have birthed Chance. But she’d raised him. Hugged him, cuddled him, kissed his cuts and scrapes, helped him with his homework.
Glancing at his own baby boy, he swallowed hard. Come hell or high water, he would get his brother home.
Kate looked at his mom. “So?”
She sniffed. “So I’ve always been fond of the name Clayton.”
Kate smiled, peeked down at her squirming bundle of joy. “Clayton.”
“We can call him Clay,” Gi Gi suggested.
Bev slid two fingers along the new baby’s knuckles. “Clay.” She smiled at Gi Gi. “I like it.”
Max laughed with relief. “Me, too.”
Kate smiled. “Me, too.”
And Max relaxed on his stool, enjoying the moment. Their family was so different now. Close. Comfortable with each other. Supportive of each other. There was no worry that he would take a drink. Not because he was foolish enough to believe he was cured, but because he was smart enough to be vigilant. Only a fool would risk this.
The nurses took the baby. The doctor finished up. Bev and Gi Gi kissed Kate’s cheeks, both suggesting she get some rest.
Max leaned in and kissed her forehead. “I love you.”
She mumbled, “I love you, too.”
“You do need to get some rest.”
“I could use a week of sleep.”
The nurse laughed. “Sorry. You get about an hour before they’ll ask you to try to breastfeed.”
Max kissed her forehead again. “So you rest and I’ll deal with the thundering horde in the waiting room. When I called Annette she said she was coming. Your mom saw your neighbor Mrs. Mayberry, so we know she’s here. And let’s not forget Mrs. Gentry.”
Kate laughed, but Max could see she was already drifting off.
So he left. He took off the surgical hat they’d put on his head and stuffed it into the pocket of the scrubs they’d told him to wear. As he shoved on the swinging doors that would lead him to the waiting room, a wonderful peace stole over him.
He might have had rough spots. He would definitely have more rough spots ahead of him—especially when he dragged Chance home; and if it killed him, he would. But right at this moment he was the luckiest man in the world.
* * * * *
We hope you enjoyed this Harlequin Romance.
You adore a feel-good love story! Harlequin Romance stories are all about real, relatable women and strong, deeply desirable men experiencing the intensity, anticipation and sheer rush of falling in love.
Visit Harlequin.com to find your next great read.
We like you—why not like us on Facebook: Facebook.com/HarlequinBooks
Follow us on Twitter: Twitter.com/HarlequinBooks
Read our blog for all the latest news on our authors and books: HarlequinBlog.com
Subscribe to our newsletter for special offers, new releases, and more!
Harlequin.com/newsletters
ISBN: 9781459230439
Copyright © 2012 by Linda Susan Meier
All rights reserved. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental. This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
® and ™ are trademarks of the publisher. Trademarks indicated with ® are registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office, the Canadian Trade Marks Office and in other countries.
www.Harlequin.com
