Accidental Surrogate

Ella

“And I am leaving immediately,” Roger adds in, making us all laugh. “Seriously,” he says, “I’m useless until the kid is old enough to throw a ball. Then, it’s all Uncle Roger.” (2

I smile at him, pleased, and take his hand to squeeze it, letting him know how glad I am that he came. His eyes soften as he looks at me, and I know he feels the same.

“All right,” I say, sighing and climbing into the bed. “Sounds like a plan to me.”

Then, everyone goes to their work, Roger and Hank leaving the room and Cora sitting next to me to help me through the first steps of breastfeeding. Sinclair sits close by, clearly interested, but not interfering as Cora shows me how to help the baby latch. I feel a whole new rush of emotion as I feel him begin to suck, as I feel the milk start to flow and feed my baby.

“There,” Cora says softly, and I look at her with tears in my eyes. “See? You’re a natural.”

“Where should he sleep?” I ask, looking around, suddenly desperate. We don’t have a basinet, of course.

Cora just shrugs. “You’ll figure it out. Use your mom instincts. People were having babies for thousands of years before hospitals came to answer these questions for them about how to have their first night.” She grins a little wickedly at Sinclair and me. “I don’t think you two are going to get much sleep anyway, but…you’ll figure it out.”

I laugh a little and return my gaze to my baby, whose eyes are closed as I hold him warm against my chest. “That’s right, baby,” I whisper. “We’re going to figure it out.”

“Okay,” my sister says, standing and giving me a kiss on the forehead. “You’re a marvel, Ella,” she whispers. “Call me if you need anything. I’ll see you at the hospital tomorrow.”

I nod, but don’t look at her, instead staring at my son. My new baby, this much- and long–desired child who is finally, finally here.

I feel the weight of Sinclair’s body on the bed next to me as the door clicks shut behind Cora, but I don’t take my eyes away from Rafe as Sinclair wraps his arms around me.

“Well,” Sinclair sighs, pressing a kiss to my hair. “This is the start of a whole new era. Are you ready for it?”

grin up at my mate, eager. “I’m ready for it. I’ve been waiting for this my whole life.”

palace but I also feel oddly…complete. It’s more than the general happiness I feel after one of my patients safely delivers a

the air. More than just a job well done. I reflect, suddenly, that maybe it’s the knowledge that I have a new little nephew now, to raise and to help discover the world. There’s something

guards standing at the bottom of the steps, wanting to make sure that it’s safe to leave, and begin to take a step when he

to. I turn, meeting Roger’s eyes. “I

ask, watching him as he walks slowly over to me, his hands sunk deep in his pockets.” Well, that’s not much of

his words as breath on my cheek, as well as hear

at my feet. “Well,” I say, a little awkward. I haven’t talked to Roger in

his hand reaching

ask, suddenly mad. “What are you even doing

perhaps wanting to pretend like he never reached but for mine. He gives a casual little shrug, looking out at the newly–quiet city. “The troops quelled the riots, but that doesn’t mean that everyone went home and no one’s lurking in the dark wanting to make mischief.” He looks at me then, pausing before he continues. “I wanted to make sure you got

away from him and heading down the steps to where my car is parked. “Thanks

his voice full

turning to glare at him. “What, Roger! I don’t need

he asks, challenging me. “You don’t need help getting home? Or you don’t need

damn it, Roger,” I growl, almost through my teeth, shaking my head at him. “Seriously? Now? You want to dig into this now, after months

he asks, his voice angry now. “The absolute nothing that

mouth to throw his words back at him, but he’s too

I wanted to,” Roger pushes, “how

going wide. “Is that the great barrier? Have you never heard

a phone, Cora?” Roger asks, closing the distance between us, his voice hurt now as well as mad. “That’s all you think it deserves?”

conversation?” I hiss. “Like you said. It’s the nothing that is us. There’s nothing to say.” I grit my teeth and turn then, heading back down the stairs, fast and mad, wanting to

him. Certainly not wanting him to see the new dampness on my lower