Page 24 of Better Than Baby (Better Than Stories #9)

I called his name again, holding out a treat. Murphy stopped and wagged his tail. He was about to trot to my side when Curt waltzed into the room with a stranger, sending Murphy into a barking fit that echoed off the high ceilings.

“Uh, Matt,” Curt called out above the din. “This is Deon, the home inspector.”

Oh.

Fuck.

Murphy jumped on Deon, because…of course, he did.

“Sorry, sorry. Hang on.” Shit, shit, shit. First things first…I bribed Murphy with a few more snacks than usual, found his leash, and excused myself. “I’ll be back in one minute or less. Curt will um…offer you a drink.”

“Uh…yeah, of course.”

I didn’t stick around to make sure Curt could handle my guest. I also didn’t bother with a jacket. Yeah, it was fucking freezing outside, but Todd and Jess lived close by and this was an emergency.

“Matt! Hi, I was just going to pop by to?—”

“I can’t talk,” I intercepted, shoving Murphy’s leash at Jess. “The inspector showed up early, Murph destroyed the house, and it’s a whole situation.”

“Go…and good luck.”

I raced up the path to my house, slid on a patch of ice, and accidentally tripped and landed in a snowbank.

Oh, for fuck’s sake!

I brushed my cold, red palms on my wet jeans, skidded onto the porch, and turned the knob. It was locked.

Well, this probably didn’t look good, but I had no choice but to knock on my own door.

Curt answered. “Oh, hi, honey.”

“Very funny,” I hissed. “Where is he?”

“In the kitchen. I gave him water and—oh, damn. Is that Aaron?”

I swiveled on my heels toward the driveway where Aaron was getting out of a car I sort of recognized. Maybe his mom’s. I waited for him ’cause yeah, I was definitely going to have to explain the fuckery unraveling inside.

Shit .

“What are you doing here?” I squeaked.

“The inspector is on his way, and Gabby said we should both be at the house.” He gave a tired smile. “I tried calling you, but—you’re wet. What happened?”

“Uh…I’m…yes. And Murphy had zoomies, but he’s with Jess and Todd and—” I blew out a deep breath and squinted. “Where’s Mia?”

“My mom stayed at the hospital so I could come home for this. I didn’t have my car. Dad dropped me off, and—hi, Curt.” Aaron narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “Why are you blocking the door? What are we waiting for?”

Aaron didn’t wait for an answer. He moved around Curt and me, and gasped. One of those full-stop, hand on your heart gasps.

Curt and I shared a panicked look before braving the chaos within…the strewn pillows and toys everywhere.

Deon, a middle-aged man in his fifties with dark skin and gray hair, was at the island sipping water, his sharp eyes cataloging the aftermath of Murphy’s mayhem while Aaron gaped.

Great . We weren’t off to an ideal start, but the ball was rolling and there’d be no redo.

I cleared my throat and stepped forward, offering Deon my hand. “Hi, again. I didn’t have a chance to introduce myself properly. I’m Matt.”

“Nice to meet you. I’m Deon and your hand is freezing,” he replied, his eyes crinkling with humor.

“Sorry. I fell in the snow.”

“Happens to the best of us.” Deon motioned to Curt. “And this is your husband?”

“Gross, no,” we said in unison.

“I’m Aaron, Matt’s husband,” Aaron interjected, skewering us with a stern stare that under different circumstances would have been hot as hell. “Something tells me that you may have met Murphy.”

“A furry ball of energy about yea high?” Deon stooped to give an approximate measurement of the red menace.

Aaron picked up a few pillows and held the pink bunny by its droopy wet ear. “That would be him. I apologize for the mess. I promise we’re usually very tidy.”

Another wicked glare.

Deon grinned. “No need to apologize. Real life is messy. How old is your dog?”

“Almost a year.”

“I have a note in the file that you have a daughter too.”

“She’s one day old. Just born yesterday.” I rocked on my heels, unable to keep my proud new dad smile in check.

“Congratulations. Looks like you have your hands full,” he commented.

“Yes, but…we can handle it. We’re very responsible, I swear.” Aaron gnawed his bottom lip. “Matt hurried from the hospital to install the babyproof locks and…and…maybe we should show you the nursery.”

Deon inclined his chin. “Lead the way.”

Curt motioned to the toys and whispered, “Go on. I’ll take care of this part.”

“Thanks.”

We’d commissioned an artist to hand-paint animals on the eucalyptus walls: a giraffe, an elephant, a lion, and dozens of birds in a tree with long branches and a thick trunk where a bespectacled owl read a book.

A bookcase lined the wall under the window and was filled with board books and toys.

A glider rocking chair was positioned between the crib and a changing table.

A colorful mobile hung above the crib, and a pastel-toned baby blanket was draped over the side.

Aaron had plans to monogram the baby’s name—names…

everywhere, but for now, the tone was neutral.

Not pink, not blue. It was green and beige and orange with hints of yellow and red.

He’d put his heart and soul into this room, arranging hidden alcoves for diapers and baby lotions and stocking the closet with extras of everything.

We were ready.

“The second crib will be delivered in a few days. There’s space for it along that wall.

” Aaron gestured across the room, and continued in a rush.

“Mia will be with us for at least a couple of weeks, so this will be where Xander sleeps. We have clothes, toys, bottles, and baby food for him. I even bought a cookbook to learn how to make our own healthier baby food…no preservatives or additives. And of course, we have emergency kits and those little gates to keep them out of harm’s way.

And Matty—I mean, Matt—babyproofed the whole house. ”

I nodded enthusiastically. “I did. Let me show you.”

We gave Deon the full tour, ending up in the kitchen where Curt was perched on a barstool, scrolling his cell.

“I would have bounced, but Deon parked behind me in the driveway,” Curt muttered for my ears only.

“No problem. I think it’s almost over.” I watched Aaron, showing Deon the yard from the bank of windows off the kitchen.

Deon hadn’t said much. Just hummed and nodded. I couldn’t tell if that was good or bad, and damn, my stomach was in knots.

“That’s everything,” Aaron concluded with a too-cheery expression. “Or did you want to see the bottles and formula we bought?”

“That’s not necessary.” Deon set his tablet on the island and reached for the water bottle he’d abandoned earlier. “I understand you’ve been through this part previously.”

“Yes, but not the final inspection,” I clarified.

Deon uncapped the bottle. “This isn’t an inspection. It’s a home visit.”

“Right. We went through this last year, so we’re probably rusty, but?—”

“Nonsense. Your home is beautiful, and you’re obviously very well prepared to welcome children into your lives—a daughter and a son. Congratulations on your adoption. And congrats to Murphy too.”

The relief was so intense, I could have fallen to my knees. This was years in the making, an uphill climb fraught with some of the lowest lows we’d ever experienced as a couple.

And now…we’d become fathers of two.

“What happens now?” Aaron rasped, his hands shaking.

Deon opened a tab on his tablet. “I’ll send the forms through to Gabby immediately. Let me just get your son’s full name.”

“This would be the perfect time to switch his name to Curtis,” Curt piped up, a shit-eating grin on his face. “Just sayin’.”

“I don’t think so,” I commented.

“I like Xander Matthew Mendez-Sullivan.” Aaron offered.

“Ah, pulling the dad card. I see how it is,” Curt joked, slapping my back.

“What do you think, Matty?”

We’d established that I was the calm and collected one in our relationship. I prided myself on keeping my cool under pressure. No tears, no coming undone, no unraveling in the face of emotional trauma. Not me.

But the well cracked and words weren’t something I could do just then, so I scooped Aaron into my arms and held on tight.

Aaron threaded his fingers in my hair and kissed my damp cheek, wiping his own eyes as he pulled away. “You’re going to be the best dad ever.”