Chapter 304

Chapter 304
Rosalind

By evening, our living room looked like a toy store had exploded. Linda sat in the center of the chaos, surrounded by the mountain of gifts Everett had brought during his daily visit. He spoiled her absolutely rotten, and she adored him for it.

"Great-uncle Everett, look! This one has wheels!" Linda held up what appeared to be a remote-controlled unicorn that probably cost more than most people's monthly salary.

"Does it now?" Everett said, settling into his favorite armchair with the kind of satisfaction that came from successful great-uncle duty. "And what do you think we should name it?"

"Princess Sparkle Rainbow!"

"An excellent choice," Everett said solemnly. "Very regal."

I watched this interaction while cleaning strawberry stains off Linda's hands and face, marveling at how family could transform the most serious people into complete softies.

"Uncle Everett," Beckett said, surveying the destruction, "you realize she's going to expect this level of gift-giving forever, right?"

"Good," Everett replied unapologetically. "A great-uncle's job is to spoil his great-niece. Your job is to deal with the consequences."

"Speaking of consequences," Beckett said, scooping up Linda as her eyes began to droop, "someone needs a bath and bedtime story."

"Can Mama read to me tonight?" Linda asked sleepily.

"Of course, sweetheart," I said, following them upstairs. "What story do you want?"

"The one about the princess who builds castles!"

"Ah, your favorite," I said, not mentioning that the "princess who builds castles" was a story I'd made up about a female architect. Some habits die hard.

After Linda was bathed, read to, and finally asleep, I found Beckett in our bedroom, already changed into pajama pants and looking like a man who'd survived another successful day of single-handed toddler management.

"Come here," he said, pulling me into his arms as soon as I walked through the door. "I need to hold my wife before she gets distracted by quarterly reports or sustainable building materials."

I melted into his embrace, feeling the tension of the day dissolve. "I missed you today."

"You saw me all day."

"I saw Daddy. I missed my husband."

He kissed the top of my head, his arms tightening around me. "I have something very important to tell you."

"Oh?"

"We are absolutely, definitely, categorically not having another baby."

I pulled back to look at him, raising an eyebrow. "Is that so?"

"Rosalind, I love our daughter more than life itself, but you are a woman with the ambition of ten people and the energy of someone who doesn't have to chase a toddler around all day. If we have another child, I will never see you again. I'll become a full-time childcare service while you conquer the architecture world."

I stood on my tiptoes and kissed him softly. "But wouldn't that be wonderful? Another little person who looks like you and causes chaos everywhere they go?"

"You say that because you're not the one who found Play-Doh in the refrigerator today," he said, but I could see him weakening.

"I love watching you be a father," I murmured against his lips. "You're incredible at it."

"Flattery will get you nowhere."

I kissed him again, more insistently this time. "What if I told you I really want another baby? That I love our family and want to make it bigger?"

Beckett groaned, his forehead dropping to rest against mine. "You're not playing fair."

"I'm playing to win," I said, wrapping my arms around his neck. "Besides, think about it—Linda would love a little brother or sister."

"Linda would probably try to feed a baby brother ice cream for breakfast."

"And you'd stop her, because you're an amazing father."

He looked at me for a long moment, and I could see the exact moment he surrendered.

"You're absolutely terrible," he said, but he was smiling.

"Is that a yes?"

"That's a 'you're going to drive me insane, but I love you too much to say no.'"

I kissed him again, deeper this time. "I love you too. Now, shall we get started on baby number two?"

"God help me," Beckett muttered, but he was already pulling me closer. "What have I gotten myself into?"

"The best years of your life," I said confidently.

And as he kissed me back with all the passion of a man who'd found his perfect life in the chaos of family, I knew I was absolutely right.