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“I’m so excited for today. You and Mitch are going to make the perfect godparents.” My best friend, Joanne West, thrust a male version of her Amazon Irish self—red hair and fiery temper to boot—into my wary arms.
“I hope you’re right,” I said, looking into the most innocent, baby-soft face. “What do you think, Jeremiah? Will I be a good godmother?”
Wide smokey gray eyes stared up at me, giving me hope for about two seconds. His little cherub cheeks scrunched up as he let out a bellowing squall to rival his Sasquatch father. Jo plopped a pacifier in his gaping mouth without missing a beat, and the screaming infant settled. She had only been a mother for a month and was already a natural.
“No worries, doll, you’ll get the hang of it.” She blew a kiss at me, looking fabulous and glowing with happiness. Meanwhile, the holes in my spikey blond hair still hadn’t filled in after Raoulle from Pump Up the Volume salon talked with his hands a little too much the last time I was there.
“If you say so,” I mumbled, my arms trembling with the weight of my new responsibility and the fear that I would be terrible at it.
Her new husband, Cole West, handed baby Collin—a calm, happy replica of himself with dark hair and dark eyes—to my fiancé, Detective Mitch Stone. They were best friends and Cole trusted Mitch with his life, especially after Mitch had saved him when he was framed for murder and had nearly lost everything. “You got this, buddy.” He straightened his tie, his neck tattoo peeking above the collar of his shirt. He looked just as tough in a suit with his buzz cut edged sharply and his muscles straining at the seams.
“I’ll try my best.” Mitch shook his hands out as if shaking off his nerves before gently taking the angelic baby
“I’m so excited for today. You and Mitch are going to make the perfect godparents.” My best friend, Joanne West, thrust a male version of her Amazon Irish self—red hair and fiery temper to boot—into my wary arms.
“I hope you’re right,” I said, looking into the most innocent, baby-soft face. “What do you think, Jeremiah? Will I be a good godmother?”
Wide smokey gray eyes stared up at me, giving me hope for about two seconds. His little cherub cheeks scrunched up as he let out a bellowing squall to rival his Sasquatch father. Jo plopped a pacifier in his gaping mouth without missing a beat, and the screaming infant settled. She had only been a mother for a month and was already a natural.
“No worries, doll, you’ll get the hang of it.” She blew a kiss at me, looking fabulous and glowing with happiness. Meanwhile, the holes in my spikey blond hair still hadn’t filled in after Raoulle from Pump Up the Volume salon talked with his hands a little too much the last time I was there.
“If you say so,” I mumbled, my arms trembling with the weight of my new responsibility and the fear that I would be terrible at it.
Her new husband, Cole West, handed baby Collin—a calm, happy replica of himself with dark hair and dark eyes—to my fiancé, Detective Mitch Stone. They were best friends and Cole trusted Mitch with his life, especially after Mitch had saved him when he was framed for murder and had nearly lost everything. “You got this, buddy.” He straightened his tie, his neck tattoo peeking above the collar of his shirt. He looked just as tough in a suit with his buzz cut edged sharply and his muscles straining at the seams.
“I’ll try my best.” Mitch shook his hands out as if shaking off his nerves before gently taking the angelic baby in his muscular arms. He was a big guy, ...
